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bvidzsoo · 6 months

Text

Preying on you tonight

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: smut, cursing, alcohol consumption, violence, bullying (nothing extreme), saying wet dog as an insult, mentions of injury and blood

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Word count: 29k

Summary: Nocturnal Parade was a safe haven for creatures like yourself, vampires, and for creatures like Mingi, werewolves. After a misfortunate event, you come to hate the other kind with your whole being despite having to live in unity and peace. What happens after a drunken night spent with your enemy, a night which changes everything for forever?

A/N: Hello, lovelies!! Surprise, another Mingi oneshot! (because the brainrot is at its peak and I'm a Mingtis *cries*) I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading the story:

✦ 1. I did a different take on vampires and both werewolves here, let's say, it's my version of these creatures mixed with all the lore I know about them.

✦ 2. Please, please, please, imagine Halazia Era Mingi while reading this!!! And Deja Vu Era Yunho!

✦ 3. This is important! For the sake of the story, the siblings are all called Song, after Mingi's surname! (I didn't mention it in the story, but Mingi's fur is white!)

✦ 4. Yes, I used Katherine's surname because I have an unhealthy obsession with her and because Y/N's character was partially inspired by her. (my TVD lovers know)

Also, I feel like I accidentally made a lot of puns in the story, so don't mind me lol. I think that's all for now, and I'm veery excited to hear your thoughts about this story, so your feedback is very welcomed! I hope you enjoy it, and happy reading now! ^^

Taglist: @orshii @sharksandminhos @cheolliehugs @dollce-exe @kikiskz

Creatures like ourselves needed a safe haven away from the looming, close-minded, humans roaming the streets of cities, constantly pondering whether they’d fall victim next in our sharp claws. Their view of us was rather cartoonish, and disfigured, and we could only thank all those made-up legends for scaring humans away from peculiar creatures, like ourselves. We were nowhere close to being the scary monsters parents warn their children of in the bedtime stories they tell them, however, we could be dangerous if provoked and forced into an uncanny situation.

Communities have been formed a long time ago, altogether with a treaty, in hopes of making peace between the supernatural creatures roaming the same Earth as humans. However, most still didn’t take kindly of us, and therefore, we were forced out of their circles, made to fend for ourselves on our own. Laws weren’t abiding at first, quite deceitful when it came to the rights night creatures had, but after the Raging Revolution, everything changed. Humans became less animus towards us and finally started acknowledging us, step by step setting up things for us, allowing us to join their circles, of course, in a restricting and well-supervised manner. Therefore, after a party has been formed in order to defend our rights and fight for the future of the night creatures, a clergy was founded with it simultaneously, trying to prove to the humans that we were just like them, albeit a little rough and more menacing. We had the same beating hearts, the same iron and hot blood gushing through our veins; we weren’t indestructible either, and most of all, we needed the same resources as them. With the creation of the clergy, it had seemed that the humans had finally settled down, accepting us fully into their society. They remained cold to us, but they weren’t so rude and threatening anymore about their ideologies and beliefs.

This gave us the opportunities to finally meddle with them, to freely follow their footsteps, establishing a lifestyle similar to theirs. We were allowed inside their cities and towns, offered jobs and given permission to step inside the same buildings as them. Society was finally progressing after decades of oppression and pain, the night creatures were somewhat finally free from the clutches of their oppressors, living the lives our ancestors have fought so hard for. However, that did not mean that everything was joint, or that you didn’t have the choice of living secluded in the safety of your own kind. My parents have chosen to raise me up far away from the rambunctious big cities, instead settling in a heavily protected town, infused by only night creatures on the outskirts of the Haunted Woods, South from anything lively. But just because humans were scarce here, did not mean that our lives were quiet and boring. It was far from it. My life was anything but boring, childhood filled with mischief and misbehavior as I was always allowed to do whatever I wanted.

Perhaps it was the privilege of having extremely rich parents, being the descendent of a bloodline so ancient that I would get a headache trying to remember every family member that was still alive whenever we would gather for our annual new year celebratory balls. Raised in lavish and puff, I was content with the way things were, and I had no intentions of moving out of Nocturnal Parade anytime soon, if ever at all. My family had settled down here in 1250, and only those curious and adventure seeking ventured far from our homeland, sometimes returning with the promise of never wanting to join the human joint cities, with others never returning, calling our safe haven a lie and depraved of everything else the ‘real’ world had to offer us. To my parents joy, I had no such intentions, content with the Petrova family’s fortune and assets, rightfully so wanting to join the family business.

The Petrova bloodline had been around far before records were even made of humankind, they have survived plagues, wars, treason and disasters, always returning stronger and stronger, their names present in history books, marking historic events and building a community that welcomed any and all kinds of night creatures, not once discriminating anyone. There wasn’t an anarchy when it came to us, creatures, everyone was equal. That’s what the clergy preached and instilled in each one of us, however, I couldn’t help but harbor hard feelings against one kind, werewolves, more exactly. I most probably wouldn’t have had any problems against them, but an unfortunate event seemed to mark me for life, and I would carry it on with myself until the end of Earth. There was nothing and no one that could change my mind about those wild, feracious, and obnoxious animals. Even if the clergy said hating one kind meant being just the same as the humans were once towards us, I couldn’t help myself. Hating someone was not a crime, and with the deep webbed hatred in myself, not even the clergy could stop me from sending glares at those wet dogs, whispering threats at them, or making their days a living hell at our Academy.

Wilden Pine Academy was a place for Vampires and Werewolves; however, the occasional Fae and Druids would make their appearance as well. Nocturnal Parade was famous for its large population of Vampires and Werewolves alike; therefore it came as no surprise that the Academy closest to our town was littered with both kinds. A four-hour drive, deep into the Pinecone Forest, and you’d be presented with our majestic Academy, its towers high and dark for vampires not keen of sunlight, and fields widely expanding, perfect for the ever loud and restless werewolves. This place was made to bring everyone together, to strengthen the bond between the two kinds, their animosity against each other quite famous, well-known even between mere humans. And it seemed that Wilden Pine Academy did an extraordinary job at bringing vampires and werewolves to a truce, to control the deep-rooted hatred for each other, and to forge an alliance that became nondestructive over the decades as both remained on the front, fighting for the night creatures’ rights and lives. Not that those stupid history books could dictate how I would feel about such wild creatures.

The Academy was serene, with eager and passionate professors all around, spreading their knowledge about anything supernatural or quite mundane. Our curriculums were closely constructed in a way that would allow us to learn everything we needed to know about ourselves and our history, but also about the humans and their atrocious self-destructive stories. The grounds were separated in two, left wing for the vampires, and for the occasional fae folk, right wing for the werewolves and their little druid friends that would show up uninvited. Of course, there were more common grounds than one could possibly imagine here at Wilden Pine Academy, the academics following the clergy’s words like the Holy Grail. Everyone must be united at all times, discrimination between kinds to be severely punished, following the laws of the Night Creatures Rule Book. One of these said common grounds was quite unfortunately the study hall, which was open at all times, and warmly welcomed anyone who wished to catch up on their projects and homework. The separation between these two kinds was only ever present in my own mind, casting a glance upon the vast study hall, you’d realize that nobody cared who sat next to them as long as they didn’t bother them. Vampires next to werewolves were a common sighting, yet I couldn’t bring myself to stay in their vicinity for longer than three minutes. And even like that, I was being generous. I always made sure to pick the furthest table from those animals in the study hall, and was rather thankful that they weren’t stupid enough to approach my table. It didn’t take two brain cells to know I hated werewolves, and therefore, for most part they left me alone. Not that anyone had anything to say against a Petrova, now Bae, having changed our family name after the revolution due to some legal issues amongst the humankind.

People who usually came to the study hall did so because they wished to have a relaxed ambience around themselves, not quite as restrictive as the library as here you could eat, drink, and chat with your friends freely, without anyone giving you the stink eye or the librarian breathing down your neck to reprimand you. With that being said, the study hall had a friendly atmosphere made for the Academy’s students to be able to study in peace, which presented to be harder and harder to do with seconds ticking by. Of course, when a certain five wet dogs would show up, the quiet and peace wouldn’t even last for one second. Despite their table being towards the middle of the large room, and my own table towards the back, close to the large bookcases, their loud howls and laughter carried over. It blew my mind how nobody even as much as glanced their way or said anything to quieten their table down. Everyone seemed content with the ruckus they were creating, and it made my blood boil even more that I couldn’t be as unbothered as the rest of the creatures around me. But perhaps if it was a bunch of vampires being rascals, I also wouldn’t have batten an eyelash in their direction, but this was the Song family. A family I hated with my whole being, the five creatures having risen from Hell itself, marched all the way to Wilden Pine Academy to reign chaos upon its once peaceful grounds. I never thought a body could yield such strong emotions, until I met the Song boys, and girls as well, their disgusting scent alone driving me up the wall. Especially of one certain person, who smelled like an actual wet dog, mixed with fresh grass that would make anyone gag. His scent was just as atrocious as his existence, making me grit my teeth whenever I was in the vicinity of him. Which happened more often than I would have liked it to.

The Song twins, unfortunately, had been part of my life ever since I was eight years old. Not by choice, of course. If I could’ve, I would’ve eradicated their existence a very long time ago. The Song’s weren’t native to Nocturnal Parade, they have moved into our safe haven just before our first academic year would start, coating the town in chaos like never seen before. They were well-known for being loud and eccentric, their parents just as much of a bother as their children were. And there were five of them, five horrific werewolves, howling and cackling every time you’d cross their paths. Song Mingi and Song Yunho were not your identical twins, however, they did seem to resemble each other in more ways than others. Both were tall, boisterous, loud, and hyperactive to a point where once Yunho had to be sedated as he wouldn’t stop running around the fields before curfew. Despite Yunho being the louder twin, Mingi wasn’t far behind, his personality more irritating than the older twin’s one. He never failed to drop whatever he carried in his hands, bumping into anything possible as if his coordination was off—not that I had expected anything more from a filthy dog. And despite being similar, they were quite easily very different when it came to their styles. Yunho, ever colorful and peculiar when choosing his attire, his black hair highlighted with fiery red highlights, nails always painted either turquoise or yellow, and shoes mismatching for whatever mysterious reason that I really wasn’t curious about. Mingi, however, only wore dark clothes, with the occasional odd white colored graphic t-shirts—or that one funky white jacket with a bunny on it—always heavily littered with silver jewelry around his neck, wrists, and fingers, his nails never bare, always tinted black or chrome silver.

Both Yunho and Mingi had a phase, back when we were all fourteen, when they have started heavily smudging their eyes with black kohl eyeliner, always looking like pandas after we had to run around the flower fields while it rained heavily. It seemed that only Mingi stuck with the makeup, Yunho opting to experiment with different lip colors, weirdly sticking to a dark purple or light pink one for most times. I never allowed myself to ponder too much about their preferences, the twins a sighting everyone found odd at times, perhaps even intriguing as they seemed to have personalities that was liked by the masses, giving me a headache whenever I saw creatures flocking around them, vampires and werewolves alike, desperate for some attention from them.

But if having the Song twins a constant in my life until I would graduate from the Academy was bad, I really had no idea what more this family had in store for me. With the appearance of their younger brother, Wooyoung, I finally learned what absolute and utter chaos and madness meant, the boy a spawn of Satan himself, sent to destroy anything in its wake. The boy was a werewolf, yet he cackled like an old, evil, witch, his dark eyes staring into yours as if he wanted to suck your soul out. And he was cocky, way too confident in himself, perhaps a defective trait he learned from Mingi, who wasn’t lacking in the ego department either. And when I thought I was finally safe of that horrible family, two more additions of the family showed up at the Academy, two girls, their sisters. Yeri, who was three years younger than the twins and one year younger than Wooyoung, was a deceitful girl. Her angelic face had fooled everyone at first, sweet smile and soft giggles quickly making everyone fall for her charm naively. But that girl was another spawn of Satan, the biggest troublemaker dated at the Academy so far, every professor’s nightmare from the very first class she attended, successfully blowing up a frog to everyone’s horror, only giggling when brought to the Principle’s office, saying that she hadn’t seen the instructions in her book and decided to improvise. And if the family wasn’t complete already, their youngest sibling also showed up at the Academy, and she was the oddest of them all. Dahyun never really spoke until she felt the need to. Her face a constant mask of blankness, lips downturned and eyebrows furrowed. She’d hold eye contact with anyone who looked her way, and smile almost threateningly when they averted their eyes disturbed by her emotionlessness. She often whispered to herself and, to my utmost horror, I was unfortunate enough to catch her speaking to the air once I was out in the fields with a fae friend, whispering about some dead animal she had found a day ago. Three were rascals and two were possible future murderers, weren’t they a wonderful family?

My fist tightened, fingers flexing around the pencil I held in my hand, lower lip sucked in as my glare settled upon the loud Song table, blood boiling, and ears ringing from oversensitivity as I struggled blocking out their voices. Wooyoung had been cackling like a madman for over thirty minutes now, Yunho also constantly giggling as they were hunched over a book, scribbling in it furiously and snickering every time Yeri tried to see what they were doing. Mingi seemed to be the only one doing his homework, however, he would contribute to the mess by his own loud, irritating, laughter, unless he was pestering Dahyun about eating something, throwing chips at his younger sister’s face. The girl sat unmoving in her chair, staring ahead at one fixed point, her eyes slowly shifting onto Mingi every so often, almost smiling at him when Mingi was too busy furrowing his eyebrows as he probably struggled solving his homework. There was a knock against the wooden table, and my eyes finally snapped away from the distasteful scene, falling on my fae friend.

“Your homework won’t solve itself, Y/N.” Krystal, the Fae with undying beauty and velvety voice, said with a chuckle. Perhaps she was the least judgmental in our four-member friend group, always kind to others, and way too understanding.

“I can’t work when it’s so loud in here,” I said with a sigh, twirling my pencil around my fingers as I looked at my unfinished potion for Alchemy disheartened.

“Try blocking them out,” Krystal said with an encouraging smile as she patted my cold hand twice.

“Easy for you to say,” Seulgi hissed, turning back in her seat to glare at the Song family, “when you don’t have heightened hearing.”

Krystal chuckled, eyeing Irene for a second, who seemed unbothered as she sat next to Seulgi, head buried in her book, “Irene seems pretty unbothered.”

“That’s because I am.” Irene’s voice was lighter, a little on the shrill side, yet strong as she snapped. She looked up, amused for a second, before she placed her hand on Seulgi’s thigh, giving it a squeeze. I watched the action without saying much, but feeling suspicious of them lately.

“They’ve been in here for more than two hours and haven’t shut up for once, for fuck’s sake.” Seulgi gritted through teeth, the only one in our friend group who shared a hatred with me towards the Song family. Perhaps a failed relationship and broken promises lead to her current emotions towards the five people, but I wasn’t one to pry if she didn’t want to talk about it.

“You tell me,” I muttered, eyes falling back on their table, Mingi leaned over it and shoving chips forcefully in Dahyun’s mouth as she had opened it, only to bite down hard on Mingi’s thumb. Perhaps that was funny as I chuckled, trying to mask it with a huff, until the first spawn of Satan suddenly jumped up on the table, making my jaw drop.

“Ahoy, everyone get on board!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, finally everyone in the study hall looking at Wooyoung, “This ship is about to sail outside, who’s with me?!”

To my utmost disgust, there were people who cheered and suddenly approached the Song family’s table, jumping up and making sounds inadequate for such setting. They were howling, like dogs. I took in a deep breath, but couldn’t control my rage as it finally burst from all the irritation I had bottled up since the morning class I had to share with the twins, forced to sit next to Mingi by the professor, “Okay, that’s it. I need to leave.”

My friends looked at me, and Seulgi nodded as she started packing up, “Fuck, same. I’m about to bite Yunho’s throat off.”

Irene quirked an eyebrow at her friend, but said nothing, just chuckled. My hands shook as I pushed my chair back forcefully, making it screech loudly against the floor, yet the ruckus Wooyoung had created was overbearing, and nobody even heard my chair falling to the floor. I grabbed the two books I had picked in order to inspire me for my potion, and turned to head towards the bookcases. Krystal had an apologetic smile on her face as she raised one hand, “I think I will stay; I still need to finish my project.”

“That’s alright.” Irene said with a reassuring smile, her stoic expression instantly melting, “I also want to read some more. Should we head to a smaller table?”

“Sure!” Krystal grinned and both girls started packing their things as Seulgi and I made eye contact, her cheeks red.

“Do you mind if I wait for you outside?” Her voice sounded strained and I shook my head no, knowing that she was on the verge of snapping. Not that I was far off from doing the same. I picked my previously fallen chair up, and placed it back on its feet before taking off towards the very last bookcase, the returning band being placed there. Despite knowing where I took my books from, I found it only logical to place them on the return band, hence why it was put there. I bypassed a vampire staring at one of the bookshelves, almost crashing into them when they stepped backward, thankful to my quick reflexes as I avoided colliding into them. I gave them a glare as I continued walking, hurrying when the cheers of Wooyoung and those having joined him had gotten louder, making my jaw tighten as I sucked in another deep breath, ears ringing from the commotion. There were some days when I woke up overstimulated and sensitive to everyone around me. Even the softest of sighs could make my ears ring and bring forward a migraine, and today was one of those days, and the Song family made sure to worsen my symptoms with their loud antics.

I finally reached the band at the end of the bookcase, and neatly placed the two books on top of other ones, to be sorted and placed on their respective shelves later. A particular loud shriek made my body tense as it felt like a vein was close to popping in my forehead, head thumping, forcing my eyes squeezed shut. I took a second to regain my composure, gulping hard, and inhaling deeply, almost choking on the wet dog smell invading my senses. It took everything in me not to gag, and as I turned to speed walk out of this wrenched place, I crashed harshly against another hard body. They gasped loudly, books tumbling to the floor. As the smell got prominent, I jumped back upon realizing it was Mingi who had ran into me. My eyes instantly narrowed, piercing on Mingi as he looked at his feet almost defeated, five books laying scattered around him. His blonde hair with fading red at the ends was long, and in a half-up ponytail, with the front strands framing his sharp features, his thick eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me.

“Hey, next time—”

“Watch where you go, dog.” I hissed, voice low and threatening, “I’m sick of you always stumbling into me.”

Mingi’s eyebrows raised in disbelief and he scoffed, “You crashed into me, Y/N, not me into you.”

“Right,” I snapped, rolling my eyes, “because I could have possibly seen there’s someone behind me to purposefully run into them.”

“Don’t you have heightened senses for a reason?” Mingi mocked as he crouched down to gather his books, making me look down at him, glare furious.

“All my heightened senses are good for when you’re around is to smell the wet dog stench you carry with yourself.” I scoffed, quirking an eyebrow at Mingi as he paused for a second, raising his head slowly to look at me. His expression seemed to suddenly shift, eyes narrowing as he let the books stumble to the floor again.

“Excuse me?” His deep voice dropped even lower, raspy in its undertone as his jaw clenched.

“I’m sick of you and your inept family always creating a scene wherever you are,” I snapped, leaning down slightly as Mingi’s eyes slowly seemed to darken, pupils blown wide, “Always screaming, shouting, acting like delinquents, bothering absolutely everyone around yourselves.”

Mingi stood, looming over my form with his tall body, lips pulled into a sneer, “Little miss princess wants to teach me and my inept family some etiquette, when she can’t even bring her books back to their own places?”

I gulped, scoffing as I felt my blood pumping faster, harder, when Mingi’s eyes suddenly flashed their menacing orchid color. His wolf was probably fighting to come forward, but it looked like Mingi was trying to suppress it, “This band is here for a reason, Mingi. Lord knows you and your inept family need that etiquette lesson. Perhaps it would finally give you some sense, perhaps you’d finally realize you have no place at Wilden Pine Academy and Nocturnal Parade—”

My heated words were cut off by a loud gasp as I was slammed into the bookshelves behind me in the blind of an eye, hard wood digging into my spine as a strong grip curled around my left bicep tightly, claws almost piercing my skin. Mingi’s eyes shone a bright orchid, and his fangs suddenly grew as he hissed lowly, lowering his head to the point that it was in my face, mere centimeters away from my own. My body reacted instantly, freezing in shock, starting to tremble as my heart thumped wildly in my chest. I tried to fight the flashbacks, but the stronger Mingi’s grip got, the more frozen to my spot I was. I could picture Mingi shifting into his werewolf form, easily ripping me in half, the Petrova bloodline lost without me. We could only reproduce once.

“Mingi—” I gasped when I felt claws pressing into my flesh, making my eyes widen greatly. All of my heightened senses and strength was forgotten in that moment, body trembling uncontrollably. I was frozen to my spot, shaking eyes boring into Mingi’s orchid ones, throat constricting to the point I couldn’t breathe anymore. I struggled in gathering myself, my trauma response stronger than my will to push Mingi off myself and rip him in two. I was good under pressure, I rarely panicked and I prided myself for being level-headed, until a werewolf had me in its clutches, ready to end my life. I tried to take a ragged breath, and Mingi suddenly growled, something warm trickling down my upper arm. Frozen in terror, I could see this moment would be my demise, until suddenly voices flooded my ears, sounding rapid and panicked.

“Get him off, Yunho!” Still in a haze, mind jumbled, I realized slowly that Irene was shrieking next to me, suddenly cradling my head against her chest, but my eyes were on Mingi’s, who was trembling as well, but in anger.

“Mingi!” Yunho exclaimed, grabbing his twin’s face in both hands, yanking his head to the side as Mingi and I finally broke eye contact, “Release her, right now.”

Mingi didn’t budge for another minute, and I gasped when I felt my skin painfully pierced by his claws, but then it all suddenly stopped as Mingi jumped backwards, eyes wide as he looked around frantically. His orchid eyes flicked back to their usual warm brown tone, fangs still poking through his plump lips. Without Mingi caging me against the bookshelves, I crumbled into Irene’s arms, hyperventilating as my bicep pulsed, the painful sting clouding my vision with tears.

“Go away.” Yunho’s voice was stern as I squeezed my eyes shut, thankful for Irene’s comforting embrace as she quietly shushed me, petting my head. She was smaller than me, but her body was strong and firm, holding me captive in a motherly manner against herself. I took deep breaths, taking notice of Mingi’s scent disappearing, only Yunho’s remaining, who didn’t stink as badly of wet dog like Mingi.

“I’m sorry,” Suddenly, I felt Yunho’s eyes on me, and I gently pushed Irene away, wiping at my face, “The full moon is close and it’s always hard for Mingi to control his anger around this time. I’d like to apologize on his behalf—”

“Stay away from me!” I snapped, hissing at Yunho menacingly, my eyes shining scarlet, “All of you filthy dogs!”

Abandoning my things, which were least of my worries now, I stormed away from everyone in the study hall, out through the wide doors, having a bewildered Seulgi race after me upon noticing me. My body shook as I carefully wrapped my right hand around my bicep, biting my lower lip as it started trembling, the faded old bite mark suddenly pulsating violently, memories of that repressed day resurfacing, feeling that excruciating pain all over again. I paid no mind to the blood trickling down my arm as Seulgi fussed behind me panicked, asking question after question. I ignored her and sped up, wanting to be alone for the time being. For at least until I calmed down and repressed those awful snarls, sharp fangs and thick fur flashing behind my eyes. I hated werewolves with a passion, and nothing could change my mind about them.

Hours later, I have finally calmed down enough to leave my room and head to the canteen designed for Vampires to do my daily feed as I have skipped it this morning, having accidentally slept in. The hallways were warmly lit up, yet rather cold as the breeze wandered inside through the small cracks in the stone walls or through the opened windows. Night had fallen upon us, and everyone was finishing up their business as curfew came closer and closer. Thankfully there was no sign of the Song family through my journey to the canteen and back to my room, I don’t think I would’ve been able to even as much as look at them without wanting to rip their heads off. I had to bandage my arm after cleansing it thoroughly, since the wound was made by a werewolf it would take a day or two to fully heal, no matter how little the injury. I knew everyone heard about our little scene in the study hall as I was given inquisitive looks, only for me to ignore them as I held my head even higher, glaring at anyone who wouldn’t look away after the first poisonous look I sent their way.

Irene wasn’t in our room when I returned, but there was a small note on her bed saying that she would return late, and that I shouldn’t stay up and wait for her as she had taken our key to the room. She never explained where she disappeared to so late in the night, and I never bothered to ask, knowing well that Irene wouldn’t tell me anything, unless she was certain of whatever was going on between her and the suspected person I had in mind. That being Seulgi. Ever since her and Yunho broke up, Irene’s been breathing down her neck and it wasn’t difficult to spot the subtle changes in their friendship. The lasting stares, the subconscious touches, always looking for the other in overcrowded areas. The signs were there, but perhaps I was just reading too much into things. Seulgi needed someone who’d fully support her after the break up as she was struggling with accepting the way things ended between her and Yunho as he seemed quite unphased by it all. It was a saddening view, to see Seulgi suffer so much, mop around all day and cry even at the mention of said werewolf—it only made me hate the Song twins more. They only brought trouble and headache wherever they went, breaking hearts left and right.

I sighed as I opened the window to let some fresh air in, noticing a small letter placed on the windowsill outside. Upon noticing the emblem binding the envelope together, I quickly reached for it and delicately opened it, being presented with my mother’s fancy handwriting, just like I have expected. I sighed and leaned against the wall, eyes running over her words as the black ink seemed fresh still.

Dear Y/N,

I hope you are doing well and this letter finds you before Irene can get her hands on it, I know the last one she burned just to force me to call you. But you know I like old fashioned things, my dear, cellphones are simply not up for my taste.

To get to the point, I hope you haven’t forgotten about Parents’ Day approaching rapidly, but in case you have, here’s your reminder to start getting ready in time, daughter. If you have unpacked your luggage yourself, you must have seen the ruby red dress I have slipped inside it. I hope to see you wearing it, dear, it would bring out your pretty eyes so well. And do not forget, your makeup shouldn’t be too harsh, it gives your father a heart attack each time he sees you wearing it.

Granma and grandpa are doing well, actually, they have gone on a trip to the Maldives, said something about buying a vacation house over there so that we can stay there over the summer. Doesn’t that sound exciting? Aunt Lannie and Uncle Jaehyun would be joining us as well. It’s been quite a while since you have seen your cousins, right? How exciting!

I shall be wrapping this letter up now. I look forward to seeing you very soon, my dear, and don’t forget to be on your best behavior until then. I’d hate to get a phone call from the Principal, again, about you setting on fire one of the Song children. Mother and father loves you much!

Yours sincerely,

Petrova Yurim

I chewed on my bottom lip as I finished reading my mother’s letter, closing the window and sauntering over to my bed, dropping down on it as my grip tightened around the letter. Parents’ Day was in two days and I was far from ready for it. I have seen the dress in my luggage my mother was talking about, but I sincerely would’ve preferred not wearing it as it was a rather old dress, very out of trend as of right now. But I knew my mother’s heart would break if I didn’t wear it for her, and I closed my eyes as I fell back on my bed, wondering how I could modify it a little bit so that it would fit my style. My choice of makeup was never ‘heavy’, but my father never seemed to understand that a little eyeliner, mascara, and red lips didn’t mean the Earth was ending.

My parents have always been strict and quite demanding when it came to their preferences, rarely lenient about whatever I wanted for myself. After a while, I just learned to go with the flow and follow their teachings and words, knowing very well that once I was away from them I could do as I wished. Like setting on fire one of the Song children. To be fair, it was an accident, and it happened one year ago when we were in Alchemy class, the only class where pure chaos would ensue each time without any doubt. Yunho and Mingi had been sitting in front of me and Seulgi, loudly giggling and chatting about something completely irrelevant to our lesson, distracting me, which lead to a mild arsoning incident. I had dropped the match I had just lit up when Yunho suddenly cheered loudly, the match falling on Mingi’s chair, the long fluffy cardigan he had been wearing catching on fire. At first, I thought it would just stop burning—not one of my wisest thoughts—but it only flamed up, making Mingi yelp and Yunho shout in panic as they jumped up from their seats, frantically wrestling Mingi out of his cardigan before it could do any real damage to the werewolf. It was a rather hilarious sight, and instead of panicking and trying to help them put out the small fire, I sat cackling and high-fiving Seulgi…which, of course, caught the attention of our Professor, thus I had no choice but to admit my mistake to the Principal. I wasn’t punished for it, but Yunho would growl at me for a whole month if we were close enough to each other that his scent bothered me, and Mingi would just glare, keeping away for the most part. It had been the best month of my life; I wish it would’ve lasted for longer.

Suddenly the door of my room slamming open made me jump, alerting me to my surroundings as I had been lost in thought, unaware of an approaching Seulgi. She skipped inside with a huge grin on her face, dumping her bag on the floor and jumping on my bed, almost crushing my knee. I yelped and rolled over just in time, which apparently was an open invitation for Seulgi to cuddle me. I grumbled as her arms wrapped around my middle, her head nuzzling against my back with a giggle.

“What are you doing?” I asked with an amused huff, trying to pry her arms off me.

“I need some love,” Seulgi muttered, kicking my leg when I dug my nails into her skin, “Ow, just because we’re vampires doesn’t mean that doesn’t hurt!”

“Get off,” I laughed, rolling onto my back, forcing her to release me, “I don’t like cuddling.”

“You’re the worst.” Seulgi pouted, glaring as we turned our heads to face each other. I rolled my eyes, disregarding my letter onto my bedside table before settling back down.

“I thought you were with Irene.” I muttered, raising an eyebrow. Seulgi shook her head no and pursed her lips.

“Haven’t seen her since the study hall, she was really pissed.” Seulgi explained, turning onto her back as she stared up at the white ceiling of my shared room with Irene, “It wouldn’t come as a surprise if Mingi was found ripped in half somewhere.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, “If Mingi dies, it better be by my hands and not anyone else’s.”

Seulgi snickered, raising an eyebrow, “Would you really kill him?”

I pondered for a second, eyebrows furrowing. Was I really capable of hurting someone to the point it would cause their death? Not exactly. Did Song Mingi piss me off so much that I have envisioned myself ripping him up into tiny particles, never to be seen again? Well, yes.

“No.” I settled with my answer, sighing loudly as Seulgi hummed, silence falling over us as there was a quiet rumble in the sky, further somewhere. A storm was coming.

“This took a dark turn, anyways,” Seulgi chuckled, sitting up and grinning down at me, “did you know about the bonfire happening tomorrow night?”

“First time I hear about it.” I grinned as I looked up at Seulgi, knowing where this conversation was leading to.

“Well then,” She wiggled her eyebrows, “You better get ready to attend another legendary party! The werewolves got the Principal to drop the curfew for the seniors tomorrow night, and we’ve got the whole lake house to ourselves!”

“What?” I asked surprised, eyes widening. Well, that was something. The lake house was off limits, unless we were supervised or had swimming classes.

“Yeah, cool stuff, isn’t it?” Seulgi nudged my thigh with her elbow, “You have to admit…these wet dogs are good for something, sometimes.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I shot Seulgi a glare, the faded bite mark and fresh wound on my left bicep suddenly pulsing in pain, “Never. They are the worst and they’ll always be. They shouldn’t even exist.”

“Okay,” Seulgi drew the word out, giving me an exasperated look, “before you start ranting about why vampires are superior and why werewolves should’ve been eradicated a long time ago, I’m going to dip!”

“Leaving so soon?” I asked with a pout as I watched Seulgi get off my bed.

“Yeah, unless we’re having a sleepover, I have to reach my own room before the curfew.” Seulgi said as she grabbed her bag and adjusted her hair in the mirror.

“Irene’s bed is free for the night, she’s not sleeping here, I think.” I muttered absentmindedly.

“Oh, I know.” Seulgi winked as my eyes narrowed at her, and then she was gone, slipping through the door, and skidding down the hallway outside of my room, her light footsteps loud to my sensitive ears. Tomorrow’s party came in handy; I really needed a drink after today. I couldn’t help but fall back into my bed with a loud huff, forcing my eyes shut when my scar started pulsing harsher, the claw marks left by Mingi fresh and just a reminder of that horrific night I was forced to live through so many years ago. And if the universe was against me, howls of those wrenched creatures traveled all the way inside my room, terrifying and loud, covering my skin in goosebumps. I truly hated those awful creatures of the night.

My hand clenched and unclenched above the tray of food placed in front of myself as I reached for the cold-water bottle, jaw clenched as the skin of my right hand burned with each jerk of my raw skin. I have been injured, again, by Song Mingi. It all happened this morning, in Alchemy. Our professor loves switching up seatmates every few days, therefore I cannot escape the wrath of having to sit next to Song Mingi for a totality of an hour and thirty minutes. Every Alchemy class had been a nightmare when we were seated next to each other, but perhaps today’s was the worst of all as Mingi managed to burn my skin with hot, sizzling, lead. Despite being a vampire, it was the second most painful thing I’ve felt so far, and it made my blood boil as the table the Song’s were sitting at was the loudest in the vast cafeteria. These idiots were enjoying their free time, as usual, loudly while bothering everyone around themselves. My eyes fell on Mingi as he threw his head back and wheezed loudly, eyes forced shut and mouth wide open as his body trashed in his seat, hand rubbing his belly as Yunho continued spouting out non-sense at his twin, making Mingi laugh even harder.

I scoffed with a venomous look on my face, unclasping my bottle of water, and taking a long swing of it. The icy water felt refreshing against my dry throat, and after screwing it shut, I placed the bottom of the bottle on top of the healing burn, sighing at the cooling sensation. Because I wasn’t feeding as often as I was supposed to, due to personal reasons, my body wasn’t healing as fast as it should have been. My senses were all over the place today as well, and it didn’t come much of a surprise, when I woke up this morning overstimulated, again, head thumping violently and ears ringing as my neighbor’s blaring alarm from three doors down woke me up. Today felt like a total nightmare, and as suddenly Wooyoung started slamming his fists on the table, edging a guy I didn’t know on to down some sort of disgusting looking liquid, I felt myself reach my limit again. I groaned, looking away from them, wincing when Wooyoung started cackling loudly, like a witch, followed by Yeri’s very shrill shouts, the sounds too harsh and piercing my sensitive ears.

“I can’t fucking stand this.” I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut as I threw the water bottle down on the table harshly, freeing my hands in order to be able to massage my thumping forehead. My migraine was only getting worse.

“Maybe you should try eating something, Y/N.” Irene’s tone was scolding, and I just shook my head, repulsed just by the thought of eating that disgusting stew placed on the plate in my tray. That was straight up dog food, and I refused to eat it. I was craving blood now more than ever, not disgusting human food.

“I’m not eating this—glop.” I motioned towards the stew on my plate and Krystal groaned loudly, throwing me a glare.

“This glop is quite tasty, Y/N, try not to ruin other’s appetite.” She spoke up with an irritated tone, “Thank you.”

I rolled my eyes but decided to shut up, “Sorry.”

“Yeah, this isn’t for my taste either.” It seemed like only Seulgi was on my side, but perhaps that wasn’t a surprise anymore. I saw the subtle glances she stole at Yunho, and when she noticed him inhaling his stew like it was the tastiest meal he’d ever had, she made a face and pushed her tray just a little bit away from herself. But in the end, she still gave in and started eating it, albeit grimacing at each spoonful.

“Why are you eating it then?” Irene asked with a roll of her eyes, pausing to give her friend a glare. I chuckled when Seulgi shrugged, averting her eyes with a blush on her cheeks. I looked down at my hand and flexed my fingers, sighing when the burning feeling intensified. I felt defeated as I leaned back in my chair, realizing that I needed to feed this afternoon too. I couldn’t go around without healing my wounds anymore, my parents would be visiting tomorrow and they’d certainly throw a fit upon noticing the fresh wounds. And that’s something I didn’t wish for at the moment.

“What happened to your hand?” Krystal asked with a frown, having finally noticed my pain as I kept wincing and glaring at the red, raw, skin of my right hand.

“Ask Mingi, he’ll gladly tell you.” I scoffed, shooting daggers at the back of his head. Almost as if sensing my harsh stare, he paused mid-air as he was raising his spoon to his mouth, and very puppy-like looked around the canteen, searching for someone. That is until his eyes fell on me, and they widened before he whipped his head around, audibly choking on his stew as he started coughing, forcing Dahyun to tap his back with strength a little girl like her shouldn’t have.

“That was interesting.” Krystal muttered as she took a longer glance at Mingi, “Almost makes me think you cursed him or something.”

“If I were a witch,” I grinned, looking at Krystal with a malicious glint in my eyes, “I would’ve gladly done it a long time ago.”

“So, will you tell us what happened?” Irene spoke up, eyebrows raised as she reminded us of Krystal’s question.

“He burned my hand, with lead.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest while being careful not to touch the raw skin, “We were supposed to melt lead and mix it with chloride, professor said something about wanting to try and make aurene glass. Guess who decided to fuck up everything? That’s right, Song Mingi.”

My jaw clenched as I was taken back to that moment in the classroom, cauldrons steaming and a low murmur echoing around the dark room as everyone conversed with their seatmate, talking about the exercise we were given. Everyone except Mingi and I. We remained silent, a tense silence if I may specify, as the textbook was opened and placed in the middle of the long desk, between the two of us. It served like an unspoken barrier, yet Mingi managed to cross it every time he went to grab something, elbowing me even a few times. I tried to control myself, ears ringing as I could hear his loud heartbeat, my nose crying at the stench of wet dog mixed with fresh grass and perhaps something that oddly smelled like cinnamon. Mingi was fidgety and kept glancing at me from the corner of his eyes, licking his lips every so often. I kept on looking ahead, or at what I was doing, completely ignoring his existence. I wore a sleeveless tank top; therefore my bandages were quite obvious. The wounds have closed up already, but perhaps I wanted to be a little bit dramatic as I knew I had class with the Song twins today. I noticed the way Mingi’s body tensed when his eyes fell on my arm, and Yunho had to grab his shoulder and drag him to their table, muttering something so low into his twin’s ear, that even my sensitive hearing didn’t catch it. Not that I was curious.

After the professor assigned Mingi and I as partners, he very begrudgingly trudged over, head hanging low and pouting like a little boy forced to do something he didn’t want to. It was almost hilarious that he thought he was the only one not keen of our current predicament, but I certainly wouldn’t speak to him first about what has transpired yesterday in the study hall. I organized everything on our table as Mingi took his seat while staring at the table, avoiding eye contact when I directed my sharp gaze on his chiseled face, glaring hard at him.

“Think you can melt the lead?” My tone was snappy and cold as I raised an eyebrow at Mingi, obviously mocking him as I knew he could easily do something so easy.

“Of course, I can.” His tone was hard too as his eyes snapped up, connecting with my gaze, glaring back. I smirked as I pushed the material towards him, motioning with my chin for him to start doing so then, “I’m not your slave.”

“I’m sorry, come again?” I asked with a sweet smile despite having heard his mumbling. Mingi took a deep breath, and I watched as his sharp jaw clenched.

“Nothing, if I melt this, you mix it with the chloride, right?” He didn’t look at me as he turned on the fire underneath the steel cauldron. I hummed, pretending to think it over as my eyes ran over our textbook despite already knowing the whole process. Alchemy was always my forte, I always studied in advance for it.

“If I’ll be in the mood—”

“This is supposed to be teamwork!” Mingi snapped quietly, eyes furious as he turned to face me. His eyebrows furrowed a little and I watched as he took a deep breath, his eyes switching for a second between orchid and their deep brown. My heart stilled, the memory of his claws ripping my skin apart too fresh in my mind as my faded wound started pulsing again. I gulped and sneered at him, leaning just a little bit closer, nose burning from his horrible stench.

“Maybe if you wouldn’t have tried killing me yesterday, I would work together with a dog like you.” I hissed, Mingi’s eyes flaring orchid all of a sudden. I stiffened as we stared each other down, faces close to each other, but a few inches in between still.

“If you think calling me a dog does something to annoy me, you’re wrong, you bloodsucker.” Mingi hissed back and I chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Is that why you’re losing your cool again?” I mocked, pursing my lips in thought, “Your eyes are a dead giveaway, Mingi.”

“Perhaps you should then know by now to stop.” His voice dropped eerily low, shivers running up all over my arms, “Unless you want a repeat of yesterday.”

My heart stilled for a second and body froze up, mouth opening in shock. I only gaped at Mingi for a second, flabbergasted by the amused smirk on his lips as he stared me down, almost challengingly. But as I went to threaten him back, suddenly Yunho was behind him, large hands grabbing Mingi’s shoulders and yanking him backwards. Mingi just blinked, eyes back to brown, and looked up at his twin innocently. I couldn’t help but glare at the two, blood boiling for being rendered speechless by a dog like Mingi.

“I forgot my notebook,” Yunho’s voice was irritatingly cheery, yet I didn’t miss the warning tone in it as he squeezed Mingi’s shoulders, “can you hand it over, Mingi?”

“It’s not here.” Mingi said with a frown, looking around our shared desk, “It’s in your backpack, Yunho.”

“Oh,” Yunho chuckled, scratching the back of his head as he released Mingi’s shoulders, “my bad, I forgot. Don’t cause too much trouble.”

And with a wink, he was gone, but not without stealing a glance at me, eyes narrowing as I rolled mine, turning around to face my notebook. And after that, Mingi and I got to work, wordlessly moving around each other, making sure to never even as much as touch the other, abruptly halting when we noticed the other’s hand coming closer to our own. Time ticked away and everything was going well, until it wasn’t. Until Mingi decided to touch the tube containing the sizzling hot lead with his bare hands, spilling it all over our desk, my notebook, and my hand. I gasped loudly and couldn’t help but moan in pain as I shoot up from my seat, clutching my right wrist with my left hand as I squeezed my eyes shut in pain, hearing the professor race over as he shouted at Mingi to get the lead wipes, tissues specifically made for lead removal. The professor carefully pushed me back into my chair and took my hand into his hands, inspecting the skin closely as Mingi crashed into the table with the lead wipes in his hands. The impact sent the other tubes tumbling to the ground, but everyone ignored the sound of breaking glass as suddenly Mingi was all up in my personal space, looming over me as he clumsily handed the professor a wipe. I hissed as the professor removed the hot lead from my skin, biting my lower lip as it started burning instantly, the pain bearable, but strong.

“Thankfully the damage isn’t too bad or harsh,” The professor said as he raised my hand and inspected it from closer, “Since you’re a vampire it will heal by tomorrow, but I advise feeding and getting a lot of sleep tonight.”

Sleep, which I won’t be getting because of the bonfire party tonight, “Thank you, professor.”

He hummed before turning his stern gaze on Mingi, releasing my hands and placing them on his hips, a scolding following, “And you, young man. You’re always breaking and spilling stuff in my class, this has become unacceptable, Song Mingi. You could’ve seriously injured your classmate. I cannot accept clumsy students to my classes, I’m afraid I will have to talk to the Principal about your future in my classroom.”

“But, Professor—” However, before Mingi could even defend himself, Yunho was by his side, smiling sweetly at the professor. Of course, he would speak up for Mingi, always the knight in shining armor, acting as if Mingi didn’t have a tongue, a mouth, and a brain. But perhaps that’s why he was speaking up for Mingi, because he didn’t have all those.

“Professor, Mingi really needs this class in his curriculum.” Yunho started with a soft voice, “And the full moon is almost here, he gets stressed and unfocused around this time of the month. I can assure you that something like this won’t happen again, Professor, even if Mingi is clumsy.”

The professor sighed, rubbing his forehead, looking tired all of a sudden. And it was just the morning. I rolled my eyes when I saw the professor nod his head silently, fixing Mingi with a stern glare, “Alright, young man, get yourself together if this truly is caused by the upcoming full moon. I don’t see other wolves acting out, perhaps a counselor could help with your struggles. I will let you off this one time, but you better clear up all that broken glass!”

And just like that, Mingi was let off, and Yunho stood grinning next to his twin, both of them bowing and thanking the professor profusely. I had scoffed loudly, shaking my head as I have started putting my things away, completely ignoring the twins staring as I stormed out of the classroom, not before whirling my destroyed notebook at Mingi, who caught it with a huff as it slammed against his chest.

My eyes snapped back onto the Song table, brought back from my memory as they cheered loudly, while someone sat next to Wooyoung kept throwing grapes in his mouth, cackling at the same time. I closed my eyes with a loud groan, all three girls looking at me with amused expressions. And if this day couldn’t have gotten worse, as I opened my eyes, I was met with a stone faced Hongjoong storming past our table, throwing a piercing stare at me. I rolled my eyes and slid a little lower in my chair, the girls chuckling around me as they watched Hongjoong sit at a table with a very elegant and handsome vampire.

“He’s still butthurt?” Seulgi asked with a chuckle, watching Hongjoong behind me.

“Wouldn’t you also be?” Irene scoffed, throwing a glare at Seulgi, “Y/N literally dumped him after half a year of dating, because she found out he wasn’t rich.”

“Well, if he wouldn’t have lied to me from the very beginning,” I said with a scoff, giving them a look, “I wouldn’t have dated him for half a year, even. You know my parents would flip out if I didn’t date someone our caliber.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” Krystal snorted, making me look at her questioningly, “What? You always blame your parents for the way you are, but you fail to realize it’s just you, not your parents.”

“Sure, Krystal,” I snapped, angered by the words of my supposed friend, who should’ve been on my side, “Please, do keep a lecture about how I am, and what my parents prefer if you seem to know everything so well about me!”

“Why are we fighting now?” Seulgi asked exasperated, giving me a tired look, “What is the reason for it?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve had enough.” I snapped and pushed my chair back, ears ringing as the Song table roared with laughter, the guy sitting beside Wooyoung suddenly jumping up and doing silly dances, “I have a migraine, I’m not sitting here for a second longer. See y’all at the bonfire.”

Before my friends could stop me, I grabbed my tray and walked off, forced to head towards the Song table as I had to return my untouched glop of a stew. I couldn’t help but watch Mingi as the sunlight shone inside brightly, falling on his tan skin, his blonde and red hair glinting in the light, which was in a ponytail much like yesterday. His uniform was a little array, the top of his shirt unbuttoned and tie disregarded after our Alchemy class. Of course, he was enjoying life without a care in the world, despite maiming me again, despite causing pain to me again. These bloody werewolves acted like they ruled the world and suffered no consequences when they did something wrong. I scoffed, but smirked a second later as I looked down at my still hot stew, a simple plan formulating in my mind.

It didn’t take long to reach their table, and to my ‘horror’, the front of my shoe got stuck in a ‘misplaced’ tile as it sent me tumbling forward, yelping loudly as I crashed into the back of Mingi’s chair, my tray falling from my hand and to the floor with a loud clank, Mingi’s loud cry following suit. I watched with wide eyes as Mingi jumped to his feet, sending me stumbling backwards, as my hot stew dripped down the back of his neck, his white shirt soaking through as the food trickled down his back. Everyone quieted around us, the Song table freezing as they watched Mingi yank the buttons of his shirt open, ripping the fabric off himself in a frenzy. Yunho and Dahyun were the first to spring into action, the young girl grabbing tissues as she jumped to the aid of her older brother. Yunho took the tissues and he started wiping the stew off Mingi quickly, who was whimpering quietly, as Dahyun took his larger hand in her small one, looking up at his brother with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, no.” I said coldly, the attention on me now, “There’s a protruding tile, I didn’t see it.”

Perhaps the insincerity and mockery in my tone sent Yunho over the edge as his expression suddenly switched up, his eyes glazing over in anger, face scrunching as his fangs suddenly poked through his lips. His eyes didn’t switch colors like Mingi’s would’ve already, but Yunho looked terrifying to the onlookers, not to me. I’ve seen Yunho angry before, and it didn’t faze me because I knew he was all bark and no bite. The giant couldn’t hurt a fly, even.

“Which tile?!” Yunho’s voice was shaking, “Show me! Right now!”

“Yunho.” Mingi whispered, grabbing his brother’s bicep.

“No, Mingi, no!” Yunho snapped, furious eyes settling on his brother, warning him to stay quiet, “I’ve had enough of her always bullying us! I’ve had enough of you, Y/N, always making Mingi suffer. What’s your fucking problem, huh?!”

“You,” I snarled, fangs growing out as I lost composure, “and your pathetic family are my fucking problem, Yunho. You act like animals and parade around thinking there’s no consequence to your actions?! He burned my fucking hand, Yunho! He pierced my skin with his claws, Yunho! What’s next, huh? He bites me and kills me?! Do you not see Mingi isn’t fit to be here? Your whole family shouldn’t be here, Yunho!”

“Until when do you think your werewolf hating agenda can go on, Y/N?” Yunho’s ears and neck have gotten red, eyes shaking as they flickered orchid for a second, but were quickly back to their light brown color. I could hear Yunho’s heart hammer against his chest, Mingi’s heartbeat fast as well, but not out of anger like Yunho’s, instead out of fear. His grip tightened around Yunho’s bicep, and I chuckled as a smirk slipped onto my lips.

“Until the day the Earth ends?” I raised an eyebrow, “Don’t forget your place, Werewolf. You are nobody and nothing, I am a Petrova. My family paved the way for everything you are able to experience comfortably today. So think again before you try to threaten me, Song Yunho.”

“Your family would be ashamed of you, Y/N.” Perhaps that jab shouldn’t have hurt as much as I did, it visibly made me recoil as my eyebrows furrowed, bitterness raising in my throat. No, they wouldn’t be. Just because I hated this family didn’t mean my own would be ashamed of me.

“You’re wrong.” I found myself saying back, voice not as strong as it was, “Stay away from me, all of you!”

And before anyone could say anything, I stormed out of the canteen, ignoring the loud whispers that followed even when I was far away, mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. I tried to forget Yunho’s words, but they were messing with my head. Maybe if his own kind wouldn’t act like such wild animals, I wouldn’t hate them. Maybe if his own feral kind wouldn’t have tried to kill me when I was a child, I wouldn’t hate them so much.

Somewhere along the day I managed to put past myself everything that’s happened in the morning and at noon in the canteen, and after having fed, I was pleased to see the burn on my hand heal by itself by the time the girls and I headed out to the bonfire party. Despite it being a spring evening, the air was chilly and the breeze cool, therefore I opted to wear a light patterned jacket over my black off-shoulder fluffy blouse, ripped black jeans hugging my legs and keeping them warm. Not that I was too cold, a vampire’s body reacted differently to the temperatures compared to the human ones. The party had been in full swing by the time the girls and I have arrived, having had to walk through a short passage of the woods, feeling quite disturbed by the louds howls of the werewolves. The girls only laughed and made comments about them being too excited for such a simple party, but all I could think about was one of them jumping out and ripping us to shreds. I kept closer to Irene, who never questioned it when I snuggled up against her side or held onto her arm tightly, even went as far as to offer me a huge smile and rub my arm up and down reassuringly. Nobody really knew about how I acquired the bite mark on my left bicep, forever marked, but it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. A vampire’s bite looked a lot different, and if a vampire bit another vampire, it faded away in less than three hours. However, if a werewolf bit a vampire, if the vampire was fortunate enough to survive the attack then the wound would scar and fade into a light, but very visible, bite marks.

But I tried to put past myself such grey thoughts tonight, and instead, welcomed the lively atmosphere as we were presented with the gravel path that lead down towards the lake house, the big bonfire a few good meters away from it, in the small meadow surrounding the lake. Vampires and Werewolves alike were gathered around, forming smaller or larger groups, and I was quickly pulled in the direction of the crackling fire as Irene excitedly pointed towards the roasted marshmallows others were having. I chuckled as I released her thin arm and accepted the red solo cup Seulgi pushed into my hands, not bothering to ask what was in it, knowing that it was most likely some unbranded hard liquor which would get us drunk fast, and hit hard, leaving us hungover tomorrow. Which probably wasn’t too smart as our parents would be visiting, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care as my body and mind screamed for a little release as these past few days have been quite stressful. I downed the contents of the red cup in one go, and perhaps that was a mistake as it burned my esophagus, making me cough loudly as Irene happily roasted her marshmallow, giggling about something with Krystal, who was crouched down next to her. Seulgi leaned against my side, resting her arm on my shoulder, and laughed as she watched me wheeze for air, clutching at my own throat desperately.

“Girl, nobody told you to down it in one go.” Seulgi seemed amused by my suffering, and I could only glare at her. That is, until I felt a foreign arm wrap around my shoulders, scent extremely new, but not too bothersome as I inhaled sharply.

“Here, wash it down with beer.” It was a senior vampire I have seen around, his eyes sharp and glinting with mischief. I narrowed my eyes at him before looking at the canned beer, and reluctantly accepted it when he pushed it in my hand, “Don’t worry, it’s unopened. Saw you downing your drink and knew you’d regret it instantly, the name’s Joshua, by the way.”

I opened the beer and took a big gulp of it, welcoming the cool drink as it poured down my throat, finally washing away the awful burn of the previous alcohol, “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.”

“Right,” Joshua chuckled, releasing me as he stepped back, “Hard to miss a Petrova.”

And with a wink he was gone, making me smirk as he threw a lasting stare back at me. Seulgi chuckled; her eyebrows raised when I looked at her.

“What was that?” She mocked, using a manly voice, trying to imitate Joshua despite his soft-spoken, melodic voice.

“Don’t know, but he’s cute.” I mused with a shrug and took another big gulp of my beer, humming as I could feel my body jittery already. Alcohol affected us, night creatures, harder, but judging my current mental state, I would get drunk a lot faster tonight than I would do so usually.

“Maybe he’s got his eyes on you?” Seulgi smirked, eyes sweeping over the place, searching for Joshua.

“If he’s rich, I don’t mind.” I said with a chuckle and Seulgi just shook her head, detaching herself as Irene and Krystal finally joined us again, instead going up to Irene to ruffle her perfect dark brown hair. Irene whined and pushed at Seulgi’s hand, pouting as she rearranged her curls, exchanging places with Krystal so that Seulgi wouldn’t bother her again.

“Where’d you get those drinks from?” She asked, pointing at Seulgi’s.

“From the open bar.” Seulgi said while pointing with her head towards a long table only a few feet away from us, littered with all sorts of alcohol, four people behind the table handing everyone a red cup as they walked up to them. Two vampires and two werewolves, I could only hope Seulgi accepted our drinks from the vampires.

“Let’s grab some!” Krystal said excitedly, and I nodded, downing my beer and throwing the crumpled can to the ground as I followed after them.

“Wait for me, I need a refill!”

“Already?” Irene asked with wide eyes and I grinned as I nodded, holding my empty red cup up.

“I’m getting wasted tonight.” I chuckled as the girls gave me weary looks, but commented nothing on it.

And wasted I got not even two hours into the party. The world was a little fuzzy and hazy around me, but I maneuvered myself around the crowd quite skillfully, I was one hundred percent sure that someone from the outside wouldn’t have been able to tell that I was, well, drunk. Maybe the way my laughter got louder and more frequent would’ve been a tell-tale sign that, perhaps, I should take it easy on the alcohol from now on, but nobody paid enough attention to me to actually stop me from doing so. Irene and Seulgi were perhaps even drunker than I was, falling over each other and giggling at everything as they whispered in each other’s ears, completely forgetting that with our sensitive hearing we could still hear them if we listened closely. But I was too in my own head to be curious of their conversation, and instead found myself in a heated debate with Krystal and a druid friend of hers about which herbs were actually healing, and which were known to have healing proprieties but weren’t actually used to heal, but to poison instead. Of course, I thought I was quite right at the beginning about some black roots I have found two weeks ago in the forest, but turns out it only gives you diarrhea if you drink it two days in a row. Which was excellent, and perhaps a piece of information I shouldn’t bear as my mind instantly went to Mingi, making me cackle to myself. Krystal said nothing despite me probably looking like a mad woman, and instead came to my aid when she noticed me trying to stand up from the log we had been lounging on for the past one hour.

“I’m getting a drink,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes for a second as the world swirled with me upon standing up, “and then I’m going to dance, want to come?”

Krystal hummed, looking around the bonfire, eyes pausing on somebody I couldn’t see due to my alcohol infused brain, “Perhaps later, would you mind that?”

“Of course not!” I exclaimed with a grin and petted her head, albeit a little too aggressively, before turning my head to look for Irene and Seulgi…but they weren’t where we had left them not even fifteen minutes ago. My eyes narrowed as I searched the place, closing my eyes to tune into their voices, listening closely, but failing as there were too many voices surrounding me. On a normal day, finding them even a crowd as big and loud as this one would’ve been child’s splay, but with my fogged-up brain, it turned out to be mission impossible right now. And closing my eyes made me feel nauseous, so I quickly opened them and with a drunken wave directed at Krystal, I took off towards the open bar. I was quite skilled at walking in a straight line without bumping into anyone despite my current state, and could only grin at the people behind the table once I arrived there. I failed to notice the werewolf dude leaning over the table, asking what I wanted. I held up one finger before pointing at the beer, and he handed it to me quickly with a smile, making me chuckle as I opened it and took a big gulp of it. He chuckled and cheered for me, making me wink at him before I turned and took off, headed towards the lake house. I had been in the mood to dance for hours now, but the girls kept me busy with stories, and I continuously kept bumping into people I knew, forced to converse with each one. But now, finally the time to join the dance floor came, and I felt giddy as I sped up, not noticing that I was using my vampire speed, the world blurring even more in front of my eyes, that is until my body slammed into another one, halting me back with a loud gasp as the beer was slapped out of my hand.

“What the fuck?!” I called out loudly, pushing my arm out in front of me as my arm dripped with disgusting beer. The music was louder as I was almost near the lake house.

“Sorry, I wasn’t—oh.” My eyes snapped up at the sudden attitude in the tone of the person who had run into me, only needing a few seconds for the wet dog stench to register, the blonde hair of the deceitful girl standing in front of me way too familiar.

“You.” I snarled, eyes darkening as my fangs appeared, out of control due to the alcohol in my system at this point as I glared down at the shorter girl in front of myself. Yeri’s eyes were just as dark as mine, her hands balled into fists as her cheeks were flushed red, “What the fuck are you doing here, little dog? This party is for seniors, and you’re not even a junior.”

“Fuck off, bitch!” Yeri snapped, growling at me, sending me into a giggling fit as I stared the younger girl down, raising an eyebrow.

“Did one of your disgusting brother’s snuggle you inside?” I tilted my head to the side, pouting my lips in mockery, “Or did you slip in by yourself? How about I show you where wet dog’s like you belong?”

“Don’t touch me!” Yeri yelped when my hand shoot out, wrapping around her bicep painfully, my eyes flashing scarlet red.

“I keep telling your brother the same thing, yet he never listening, little Yeri.” I sighed loudly, making fake crying sounds in my drunken stupor, “How about I teach him a lesson through you?”

I flashed my fangs as I stepped all up in Yeri’s personal space, her eyes widening in fright as she started yanking on her arm, her heartbeat fast in panic.

“If you struggle, it’ll only hurt more.” I whispered menacingly as I started leaning closer to her neck, grabbing her other arm with my free hand, stilling her movements with my inhumane strength. The girl whimpered loudly and I watched as her lips trembled in fright, shaking her head furiously no. I grinned sadistically at her, chuckling when I got close enough to her neck, hearing her quiet sniffs as she had started crying, “How pathetic.”

I loosened my grip on her and she instantly pushed me away to the point I staggered backwards, almost loosing my footing as the world swirled with me, “You fucking psychotic bitch!”

Yeri cried at the top of her lungs, a few night creatures glancing our way, but they continued walking on when they saw that nothing bad was actually happening, “Oh, little puppy got scared? How sad!”

“I will rip you to fucking shreds when I have my first shifting!” Yeri screamed, voice shrill and breathing heavily as I threw my head back in laughter, gulping down the sudden wave of nausea which hit me.

“Stupid dog, in your place I’d be more worried about growing a beard!” I stuck my tongue out at Yeri in child-like mockery, and watched as her eyes widened to the point of popping, choking back a scream. I just laughed as she threw me one last furious glare before turning around and storming off, her mumbling quite loud as I laughed hearing her curse me to the heavens and back.

“Great, now my beer is gone.” I grumbled to myself once Yeri was out of sight and not entertaining me anymore, making me sigh as I remembered my mission before I was interrupted by the stupid girl. I turned around and grinned as I spotted the door to the lake house open, and once again using my vampire speed, I waltzed inside quite clumsily, knocking into the doorframe and groaning as I stumbled towards. Somebody caught me but I quickly shook their hands off, and pushed my way through the crowd, settling somewhere towards the middle of it, closing my eyes and getting lost to the even beat of the EDM music playing.

I smiled as I threw my arms up, jumping to the beat, until I felt someone tapping my shoulder, making me turn around. It was a girl I knew from one of my classes and she looked quite excited as she waved, making me chuckle as I waved back. She was quite the cute fae and extremely friendly, so I didn’t object as she pushed a red cup into my hands, prompting me to drink from it. Perhaps it was the tastiest cocktail I drank all night long, and I thanked her with a big grin when she said I could keep it. I closed my eyes and swayed my hips to the rhythm of the music, enjoying myself with the small fae girl as she twirled around cutely, making me laugh at some of her movements as I found them hilarious, but endearing. The DJ suddenly changed the song and everyone screamed, making me excited as it was one of my favorite song’s, the fae girl’s eyes also widening as she grabbed my arm and started jumping up and down in excitement. Soon, I found myself taking large gulps of the sweet cocktail as I jumped up and down with the fae, screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs as we were just two drunken bodies enjoying ourselves in the crowd of the night creatures. That is, however, until I felt a harsh grip on my right bicep, forcefully yanking me backwards and away from my fae friend. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and I pouted when the fae girl suddenly stepped back, eyes wide and set behind me before she got lost in the crowd, my body whirled around so fast that everything went hazy around me, and I was forced to shut my eyes for a few moments, stomach doing weird flips. It also didn’t help that suddenly it smelled like wet dogs.

“Listen here, bloodsucker,” A deep and raspy male voice hissed, my eyes snapping open as I found myself face to face with Mingi, “you can insult me and threaten me all day long, if you want, but if you touch my sister one more time, Y/N, I will rip you apart!”

I stared into Mingi’s handsome face for a second, and then the next I was laughing, head falling back as my body shook with the motion, hardly able to control myself in my inebriated state. But my fun didn’t last for long as I felt the red cup slapped out of my hand, making my blood boil as I glared at Mingi.

“This is the second time one of you, Song wet dog’s, slap my drink out of my hand, Mingi,” I hissed, unimpressed at this point, “It’s getting tiring and annoying.”

“I don’t give a shit about your drinks, Y/N,” Mingi growled, stepping closer, “What I do care about is you having a problem with my sister and—”

“Blah-blah-blah, Mingi.” I scoffed, pulling on my arm, but Mingi’s grip only tightened, “Quit yapping, I don’t give a shit. You’re irrelevant, irritating, and you fucking stink.”

“Listen to me, you fucking entitled bitch!” Mingi’s raw voice boomed over the music as he grabbed me by both arms, shaking my body harshly as his breathing got heavier, heart thumping wildly in his chest. I chuckled and bit my lower lip, surprised by this new side of Mingi. His breath was mingled with alcohol, no wonder he was acting so wild all of a sudden, not that he usually wasn’t. It was just…more raw tonight, seemed more sincere than before, “I want you to leave my family alone. We’ve had enough of your torment and constant taunts, what the fuck did we do to you?!”

I groaned and threw my head back to stare at the dark ceiling of the lake house, “You’re just too dense, Mingi, aren’t you? Do you seriously want me to go on a rant and repeat every single thing I’ve told you these past two days? You have no place at Wilden Pine Academy, let alone in Nocturnal Parade.”

“I’m done with this conversation,” Mingi hissed through his teeth, making me smirk as he stepped back, letting go of my arms finally.

“Are you?” I mocked as I cocked an eyebrow at him, blinking at him sweetly, “I thought you were here to put me in my place for touching your precious little sister. She’s quite dumb, by the way, but I suppose it runs in the family.”

Mingi didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t hard to miss the way his jaw clenched, ebbing me on more to continue taunting him. I felt confident as I allowed my eyes to run over his body, taking in his tall and lanky form. The dark grey jeans hung loosely around his lower half, a little low on his hips, held in place by the thick belt he wore, making him look like a cowboy, almost. There were quite big rips in his jeans, the lower half of his thighs uncovered just to below his knees, a quite delicious sight for hungry eyes. I slowly dragged my eyes up, and perhaps, they lingered a tad bit too long on his narrow waist, the black muscle shirt tucked inside his jeans clinging deliciously tight against his lean muscles, which were not too harsh, but quite obvious now that he was out of his loose Academy uniform. I knew werewolves were night creatures with higher body temperature, but it was still a bit surprising that he didn’t wear a jacket, his neck decorated with various silver chains, similar much to the collars dogs would wear. I giggled at my own thoughts as I finally looked back into Mingi’s eyes, forgetting for a second where I was going with this, or what I initially had in mind as I felt my own heartrate pick up, almost matching Mingi’s. I failed to notice his fluffy hair was out of his day-to-day manbun, lusciously falling around his face, framing his sharp eyes which looked even sharper with the harsh black eyeliner rimming them.

“Nice necklaces, Mingi,” I complimented, twirling my finger around a chain until Mingi slapped it away with a hiss, “reminds me of dogs and their collars their owners make them wear. Do you also have an owner?”

Mingi’s cheeks flared in an instant, and I wasn’t surprise to see his eyes flash orchid, flickering back to their warm brown color the next second. I tilted my head and licked my lips as I stepped just a bit closer, suddenly meowing at him in a mocking way, “Do big, bad, dogs like you like little kitties too?”

It really happened in a flash, perhaps in a sober state I would’ve been impressed by how fast he moved even for a werewolf, but all of my senses were dull at the moment as my world was hazy, and all I could do was remain frozen in surprise as Mingi’s large hand took ahold of my neck and tightly wrapped around it, his silver rings digging into my skin. His puffs of breath hit my face as he was breathing hard, and I could hear the blood race through his veins, flush to his head deliciously as his heart thumped wildly, the strange cinnamon scent I have smelled before on him very prominent all of a sudden. My blood ran cold as Mingi’s eyes flashed orchid again, fingers squeezing my throat just a bit more, but now it hurt. However, I felt my heart race pick up as butterflies flew freely in my stomach, making me giggle breathlessly. The alcohol could really make you a fool if it wanted to, if you allowed it to.

“Will you snap my neck in half?” I whispered against Mingi’s lips, almost touching, knowing well that he could hear me crystal clear. Mingi sucked in a harsh breath of air, shaking his head, body trembling. I smirked, very aware of the conflicting emotions on Mingi’s face, and of the growing and shrinking claws against the soft skin of my neck. He really could’ve snapped my neck in half right then and there if he wanted to, and I would’ve been too drunk to realize it in time and defend myself. Making it even worse, I was the one asking for it, edging him on, laughing danger in its face, forgetting why I hate werewolves so much. Forgetting that I almost lost my life because of one of them.

Perhaps the planets stilled and galaxies aligned as one, and not even that could’ve prepared me for Mingi’s next actions, or the crippling shock I felt in my body, as Mingi pulled my body into his, ferociously chasing after my red lips as his plump ones found mine, inhaling them as he sucked on my lower lip, my body too numb on the inside to show on the outside the shock I was feeling. His teeth clamped down on my bottom lip painfully so, making me gasp as I yanked my head back, very aware of Mingi’s huge palm kneading the flesh of my ass through my jeans, forcing a hysteric laugh out of my body as I threw an arm around his shoulders, feeling weak all of a sudden, and needing something to anchor myself in. My laughter was high-pitched and extremely loud, but it didn’t deter Mingi from me as I felt his left hand grab my nape and yank my head back up, our eyes boring into each other.

“What the fuck, Mingi.” I found myself chuckling, fingers tangling into his soft hair, grip firm and painful as Mingi grimaced slightly.

“Fuck you, Y/N.” Mingi’s growl was animalistic as he crashed our lips together again, the dancing bodies around us forcing us closer together, flushed to the point where I didn’t know where Mingi ended and where I began. His lips set a feracious pace, slotting perfectly against mine, inhaling my breath like I was his only oxygen supply. I didn’t realize it in that moment, but I clung onto him as if my life depended on it, as if he was my life source and I desperately needed him. I sucked and bit at his lips, unashamedly moaning when his hand grabbed onto my ass firmly, rocking our lower bodies in sync to the rhythm of the song while he inhaled my lips, thumb pressing into my cheek painfully as he had grabbed my jaw, keeping me in place, refusing to allow me to pull my head back again. I sucked on his plump lower lip, hearing a small whimper slip through his lips as they parted, granting me the access inside his mouth as I pushed my tongue through his parted lips, forcing his mouth open wider. Mingi groaned deep in his throat, fingers slotting back into my hair and yanking harshly on it, making me gasp as he refused to let me dominate the kiss as his tongue lapped at mine, forcefully entering my own mouth, tilting my head in a way that would grant him even more access to reach deeper. My only body felt alive the longer Mingi’s mouth pressed against mine, no matter the pain as I fisted his muscle shirt, struggling to keep my moans at bay as Mingi’s hand slipped inside the back pocket of my jeans, cupping my ass and guiding my body against his as they grinded together to the music. His tongue was hot as it explored my mouth, licking at every corner, making my breath still as he licked at my fangs almost mockingly, almost as if he tried to draw his own blood, making my head thump with wild lust I’ve never felt before. I didn’t think much, clearly, as I felt with my right hand down his broad shoulders, firm chest, and abdomen, slipping between our bodies without Mingi noticing. My lungs screamed for air, but I refused to pull back first, grabbing at Mingi’s hard-on through his jeans, eliciting a choked back moan. Putting pressure on his dick with the heel of my hand, I started massaging him, Mingi’s breath hitching as he flushed our bodies together even more if that was possible, no longer paying any attention to the music or keeping up with the dancing bodies in the crowd around us. The longer I kept on rubbing his dick slowly but firmly, the sloppier Mingi’s kisses got, gasps and groans slipping past his occupied mouth. I smirked against his slick lips, and felt triumphant when he was the first one to pull back, gasping against my mouth as a string of saliva connected our mouths together still, Mingi’s eyebrows scrunched up in pleasure as I raised my hand enough to slip it inside his jeans, the belt not making it much too difficult to do so. My eyes widened when I realized Mingi wore no underwear, and my throat became drier instantly at the thought of how easy he made everything as my fingers slowly wrapped around his bare member.

“Fuck, not here.” Mingi’s deep voice was raspy and raw as he grabbed my wrist, biting his swollen lower lip.

I chuckled, licking at his red lips, enticed by the flush of his cheeks as I tightened my grip around his shaft, making him gasp in pleasure, “So the big, bad, dog does like playing with kitties, after all.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mingi hissed, eyes narrowing into slits as he glared at me, yanking my hand out of his jeans, his long and sharp nose pressing against mine, “You won’t be calling me no dog after tonight.”

Something lay heavily on my chest, hot air tickling the sore skin of my neck. Not much needed to be said as I groaned lowly, all of my muscles feeling heavy and sore, head thumping violently due to the ticking of a clock, which seemed to only become louder and louder, too piercing to my sensitive ears in the quiet of my room. My mouth felt dry and my throat almost felt like burning up, the feeling quite similar to bloodthirst, which wouldn’t make much sense as I have fed yesterday. I wasn’t thirsty, yet my body felt alive, almost alert, as I sighed softly, trying to stretch out my muscles, but unable to move, almost as if I was pinned down by something. I licked my lips and rubbed at my eyes, suddenly registering the foreign scents mingling together around me. The scent of cinnamon was nauseatingly overbearing, making my stomach flip when it mixed with fresh grass, somehow clashing with a completely different scent that reminded me a lot of those stupid wet dogs. Werewolves, only they smelled like that.

My eyes flew open, heartbeat kicking off in a frenzy as my dry eyes burned, having to blink them multiple times until the ache went away, telling myself that this must be just a bad dream as the room I found myself in looked nothing like the dorm room I share with Irene. It was scaringly the opposite of it, quite messy and littered with boyish things, a family picture framed, and placed on the wall opposite the bed I lay in, almost making me scream at the top of my lungs as my eyes swept over the Song family. I jumped when a soft breath tickled the skin of my neck again, and my jaw dropped as I finally took the bother to look down at myself, muscles locking up, and a scream choked back in the back of my throat as I lay frozen with an asleep Song Mingi on top of me, naked. Both of us were naked, and I felt myself starting to panic as I licked my chapped lips, pressing my head back harshly into the pillow, racking my brain for any memories of last night, coming up almost empty handed after my fifth red cup, everything a haze as I desperately tried to find the reason why I was in Mingi’s room, laying naked in bed, and why we have even slept in the same bed…naked.

And the blurry pieces of my recollection that I managed to find were horrifying as obscene memories flooded my mind, heart fluttering and cheeks flaming as Mingi’s breathless moans all of a sudden felt too loud in my ears, his strong body looming over mine as he kissed down my neck, gasping for air when my hand tightened just a little bit harder around his dick, hand moving up and down fast. It made Mingi whimper as he whispered in my ear that he was close to coming, sucking and biting on the soft flesh of my neck, making me moan as his hand cupped my breast, kneading it and squeezing it, body yearning to feel more of him.

But the memory became hazy again, and as I gripped my hair in frustration, I was shocked to find myself just barely remembering Mingi’s face scrunched in pure bliss, head thrown back as his calloused hands gripped my hips to the point of bruising, his hips pistoning upwards as my thighs trembled with my body leaned over him and hands holding onto the headboard as I rode him, our loud moans tangling together in wanton noises, no doubt disturbing Mingi’s neighbors. I could remember my heart beating out of my chest as my orgasm was quickly approaching, hip movements picking up as I started moving up and down faster, calling out Mingi’s name when his thumb found my clit, his eyes suddenly flashing orchid as he growled, letting me fuck myself on him as he looked up at me with the hungriest look in his eyes.

My breath stuttered in my throat as I tried to push the memory away, appalled by the way my body felt hot all over suddenly, Mingi’s naked weight pressing down on me not helping my situation at all as another stray fogged-up memory lurked at the back of my mind, fighting to push through, despite my attempts to keep it at bay. But it was a lost cause as I licked my lips, remembering the feel of Mingi’s lean body above mine and pressing into me, slick with sweat as Mingi’s mouth was parted, puffs of breath leaving his lips with each sharp thrust of his hips, hiking my body a little higher after each one due to the sheer force he was using, my toes curling and fingers gripping the sheets overhead. Mingi had one of my leg’s pushed flushed to my chest as he used it as leverage to turn his pace brutal, my other leg wrapped around his waist, digging into his backside, as I urged him on to move rougher as his thick member pulsed inside my tight walls, tears springing into my eyes when my third orgasm was fast approaching, my body too sensitive to take any more, but Mingi wasn’t stopping. He clamped his free hand down on my mouth as I was borderline screaming, body completely numb at this point as Mingi desperately chased after his own release, growls escaping through his parted lips as his orchid-colored eyes bore into my scarlet ones. Never have I ever felt such intense pleasure before, and I almost had to slap myself to push the memory away, skin tingling as Mingi suddenly shifted on top of me, lips brushing against my collarbones. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts and trying to remain level-headed, but the more the realization that I have slept with Mingi dawned on me, the more hysterical I started feeling. My body trembled in anger, and confusion over how much I liked it and how much my body was yearning for it again.

I did the next best thing I could, raised my hand and whacked Mingi in the back of his head hard, making him jump up with a loud growl and eyes orchid. He looked around the room frantically as his lower half pressed into mine, making my heartbeat quicken. It took Mingi almost the same amount of time as for me to realize just what happened, and as he whipped his head around, eyes back to their usual brown, his mouth fell open, and a very shrill scream left his lungs, making me close my eyes in pain as my ears rung.

“What the fuck!” Mingi continued to scream, horrified eyes looking at me, then at himself, continuing to do so for a few minutes until I realized he was basically looking at my naked breasts, making me smack him in the face, but not in a painful way, “What the fuck?!”

“Shut up!” I screamed back at Mingi as my head thumped violently, his screaming only adding onto my migraine and hangover.

“What are you doing in my bed naked?!” Mingi still seemed too shocked to move, and I pushed his head away so that he wouldn’t look at me anymore. I went to wriggle out from underneath him, but that only made matters worse as I rubbed up against his morning wood, making me gasp as my body instantly reacted, wanting nothing more than to spread my legs wide open for Mingi, a thought so terrifying that I froze. I didn’t miss Mingi’s sharp inhale and his reddening cheeks.

“What do you think, you fucking idiot?!” I managed to fire back, Mingi suddenly realizing just how naked we were as he rolled over, finally his body off mine. I finally felt like I could breathe as I rolled to my side as well, shielding my private parts from him as the sheet on us wasn’t big enough to cover the both of us anymore.

“Oh, my God,” Mingi sounded mortified and I felt the bed dip behind myself, “Where’s Yunho? Did he not come back here?”

“I fucking hope not!” I snapped as I sharply turned around, pushing Mingi hard, kicking him off his bed as he yelped loudly, hitting the carpeted floor with a heavy thud.

“What the fuck!” He called out, reaching a hand up and ripping the sheet covering me off, to shield himself. I yelped and scattered off the bed as well, wildly looking for my clothes, thankfully finding them disregarded by the bed as I used my inhumane speed to dress myself before Mingi could see me.

“Did we—why were you naked in my bed?!” Mingi stood, sheet wrapped around himself like a burrito, only his head visible as his face looked pale. He better was just as hungover as I as I struggled to button my jeans due to it, blood boiling at his stupid question.

“What do you think, you stupid boy?!” I hissed, scarlet eyes snapping onto him menacingly, “Surely not because we read the Holy Book Of The Clergy!”

“Don’t bring up the Clergy right now, oh, my God!” Mingi looked mortified as he looked around, eyes pausing on his family photo, face blenching even more, “We had sex.”

“You don’t say!” I snapped accusingly, eyes falling on the clock, mortified when I realized I barely had an hour to get ready until the gates of the Academy would open for all parents to be welcomed. I went to throw the door open just as Mingi marched up to me, grabbing me by my arm, face hard, and eyes set in a glare.

“Get out.” He snapped, grabbing the doorknob, the sheet wrapped around his body almost falling to the floor. I scoffed and yanked my arm out of his, glaring back just as viciously.

“You hypocrite,” I pushed him back, sneering at him, “you act like I’m the one who put my dick inside of you.”

“I don’t doubt you wouldn’t have, if you had one!” I huffed as I was appalled, my eyes turning scarlet once again as Mingi scoffed at me

“I’m pretty sure you started this on the dancefloor, Mingi—”

“Don’t say my name!” Mingi cringed, turning around and pulling the sheet over his head as he started wailing silently. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics and went to leave the room, never wanting to see his stupid face again, until I remembered just how big of a louse mouth Mingi actually was, and it made my heart thump wildly in fear that he’d go around blabbering about what we had done. So, I turned sharply, and using my vampire speed, appeared in front of Mingi, clutching his throat tightly, only to be faced with no face and only a white sheet. I closed my eyes in exasperation as Mingi gasped and started wailing that he couldn’t breathe, so, I ripped the sheet off his head, glaring at him, almost amused by the way his blonde and red hair stuck up in all directions.

“If you say anything to anyone, Song Mingi, I swear to you right now, that I will suck your blood dry and eradicate your whole family afterwards.” Mingi’s nose scrunched in disgust as I leered the words at him, my fangs menacing, and scarlet eyes terrifying. When Mingi didn’t say anything, I tightened my fingers around his neck, making him roll his eyes at me.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Y/N, I wouldn’t want a soul to know about this.” I narrowed my eyes at him, but upon being convinced based on his heartbeat and stoic face that he was saying the truth, I released him and left his room in a hurry once making sure that nobody would see me. Was it really necessary that my days would turn into nightmares each day lately?

The image I was presented with when I looked in the mirror in my own room was nightmarish, mouth falling open when I saw the dark bruises creating a whole constellation on my neck. I needed a few minutes to calm myself as I took in deep breaths, otherwise Mingi would be laying now in a puddle of his own blood. The sight of myself was disappointing, and I couldn’t help but feel angry with myself for letting this happen. If we weren’t so drunk this would’ve never happened. I can’t believe I let a werewolf touch me…let alone in such inappropriate ways. My mind kept trying to wander off to memories of last night with Mingi, but I forced myself to focus and forget everything that happened, marking it as a stupid drunken mistake that would never again happen. Despite having barely an hour to get ready, I was done in record time. I was fresh and clean after the deep cleanse shower I took, all bruises and miscolored spots instantly covered up afterwards. I curled my hair nicely and applied very light makeup, adding a little color to my pale cheeks and lips, wearing the dress my mother sent. Irene thankfully helped me change it a bit, and now it was up to my taste as I wore my black high heels to match the color of my nails, and left the dorms, not wanting to be late when my parents would arrive. I would certainly get chastised for it, and my still thumping head wouldn’t have been able to take that as well. I was finally regretting the fact that I mixed so many drinks last night and that there wasn’t anyone to stop me from wrecking myself. Surviving today would prove to be almost an impossible mission.

By the time I made it to the gardens, it was buzzing to the brim with students, the younger ones all excited to see their parents, the older ones not as quite happily waiting for them. I easily found Irene in the crowd as I smelled her sweet perfume, and came to stand next to her, arms crossed over my chest as I grimaced when the fifth graders kept cheering and screaming in our vicinity. I didn’t want to ruin the moods of those poor children, but if they didn’t shut up soon, my head would surely explode.

“Oh, Y/N,” Irene said as she finally noticed me, her eyebrows furrowing as she took me in, snapping me out of glaring at a blonde little girl, “When did you arrive? I didn’t notice you.”

I sighed and looked at her tiredly, my muscles quite sore after…the night I had, “Just now, this is dreadful.”

Irene chuckled as she followed my sight, which was back on the loud kids, “Well, yes, you shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night…”

I rolled my eyes, looking back at my friend, “Look who’s talking. I thought friends are supposed to stop you from doing stupid shit? Oh, well, you couldn’t possibly have done so since you disappeared with Seulgi, again.”

Irene blushed and looked away abashed, clearing her throat awkwardly, “Sorry about that, won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Yeah, right.” I chuckled unamused, knowing very well they will most likely disappear off to somewhere together the second they get the chance to. Irene looked at me with a small smile, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, lightly bumping her shoulder against mine. I watched as her eyebrows slowly furrowed and nose scrunched, leaning closer to sniff me. I yanked my head back and gave her a confused look, Irene looking even more confused, “What?”

“Uh,” She paused, sniffing me again deeply, her eyebrows raising in mild interest, “Y/N, you kinda smell like those werewolves you hate so much…”

“What?!” I snapped, heart somersaulting in my ribcage as I raised my arms to sniff them thoroughly, then raised the front of my dress too, but smelled nothing peculiar, “No, I don’t. What are you talking about?!”

“I mean, you kinda do,” Irene looked at me like I was crazy, “Especially that Mingi guy—”

“No, I don’t.” I hissed, looming over my best friend, muscles tense and blood boiling, “And don’t ever again bring him up!”

Before Irene could react or even look at me like I was crazy, I stormed off towards the opened gates just as my parents car rolled up, their butler getting off first to open the door for them. I took a deep breath and brushed all thoughts aside, assuring myself that the copious shower and intense perfume I downed on myself surely masked any remaining scent of Mingi’s on my body, Irene must’ve smelled it wrong. Perhaps Mingi was lurking around and that’s why she felt his scent on me.

Two more hours. I only had to survive two more hours of this mayhem until the gates would be closed once again, parents away, serenity coating the Academy once again. I was barely holding on at this point, ears ringing to the point I barely heard anyone talking to me, and head thumping so violently I would’ve willingly asked Mingi to rip my head off. But I had to keep an image, and therefore, I made sure to drink lots of water and mask everything I felt under a small smile that would turn into a grimace whenever nobody was looking at me. Our table was simple and small as it only consisted of my parents and I, and it was more towards the middle of the garden, of course, the prestigious families sat closely together, Irene’s just to our left, with Seulgi a few tables down, Krystal’s nowhere in sight as the druids were seated more towards the entrance, close to the faes. My father and mother found this opportunity perfect to spread their business ideas to the other night creatures, thankfully not bothering me as much as I thought they would. However, the second we sat down to eat is when the real headache started as they drilled me with questions and didn’t fail to remind me of our principles and rules that I must follow at all times.

When my mother saw me, she wasn’t too keen of the changes done to the dress, but she said nothing as she enveloped me in a big hug, smiling at me brightly as she pulled away, her skin absolutely perfect and glinting in the sunlight. She looked very young, almost younger than me, her vampire genes certainly more on the fortunate side, thankfully passed down to me as well. My father was less affectionate, but he was quick to offer me a side hug and smile at me cheekily, playfully asking if I had been up to no good last night as he apparently knew about the bonfire party. I merely laughed and brushed it off, assuring him that I was in bed by twelve, my beauty sleep absolutely necessary. They didn’t have to know of my endeavors last night, not that they would’ve been against me mingling with a werewolf, the opposite, my parents were huge werewolf lovers and supporters. After the clergy, they were the first ones to preach unity between our kinds, urging everyone to love and respect each other, to live in harmony. One would think almost losing their only daughter to a monster would scar them, but they only became bigger believers of the necessity of peace between us, using me as an example quite often. Perhaps my parents played a significant part in my life when it came to me hating werewolves so much.

Barely even half an hour had passed since their arrival when I felt my mother adjusting my hair and telling me to stand up straight, eyebrows furrowed as she kept leaning close, inspecting my face closely. She muttered about the skin of my neck being darker, and for a second, I thought the coverage came off, but my father just told her to leave me alone as nothing was wrong with my neck. I knew my mother would keep a scrutinizing eye on me, but I hoped she wouldn’t try to spot every little flaw about me today. However, that wasn’t the case as she pinched her nose and threw me a disgusted look. I paled, mouth hanging open as she cleared her throat, slapping my father’s arm as she motioned towards me.

“Sweetheart, doesn’t she smell a bit funny today?” She had asked my father, making me freeze as they both stared at me. I felt like a little child all over again.

“Not at all, let the girl relax a little, dear, she’s been tense all day,” My father had sighed and had gently pulled me into his side, chuckling, “She’s walking a bit funny, I bet those physical training classes are quite challenging for you.”

If my face looked as mortified as I had felt in that moment, my parents said nothing about it, they just hummed to each other and let me off, asking me to walk with them as they caught up with old acquittances and present business partners. I wanted to burry myself hearing my parents words, but I just brushed them off and laughed anytime someone mentioned my scent being a little different, hands clenching behind my back into fists, itching to connect with Mingi’s sharp jaw.

Finally, my parents have grown bored of talking to everyone and we were seated at our table currently, them enjoying the copious amount of food placed on our table, me, not so much. I ate very little and told them that I have fed earlier in the morning and wasn’t feeling too keen about having human food as well, which, thankfully, they accepted and didn’t push for more answers. The truth was that I would’ve thrown up right then and there if they would’ve forced me to eat the raw meat on my plate. My eyes were trained on the Song family’s table as my eardrums shook each time they roared with laughter, falling off chairs and conversing just way too loudly taken the setting we were in. I grit my teeth as the sunlight fell perfectly on Mingi’s face, coating him in a golden hue as his longish hair had little braids in it, highlighting the red against his blonde hair. Everything about him was infuriating, and I gulped when my stomach started doing weird flips upon hearing his laughter. His mouth opened wide and his head fell back, body shaking in time with his wheezes, soft skin looking like precious gemstones glinting under the sunlight. I scoffed and grabbed my tall glass, taking a sip of my orange juice as Wooyoung’s witchy laughter pierced my ears, making me shut my eyes in pain.

“Are you still sensitive, love?” My father’s gruff voice made my eyes snap open as I averted my gaze from the Song’s, looking at my father with a forced smile on my lips.

“Yes, some days it’s worse than others.” I explained, making him hum as he looked at my mother.

“Well, that’s not exactly healthy,” He muttered under his breath before shaking his head, “but many things changed in your immune system after you were bitten—”

“I don’t want to talk about this here.” I snapped, voice harsh and body tense as my grip tightened around my glass. Anyone could hear us. My faded bite mark suddenly started pulsating hotly against my skin and I gulped, heartrate accelerating.

“Dear, it’s nothing to be ashamed of—”

“Mother,” I snapped, eyes shooting to her, “Not here.”

My parents fell silent as I remained tense, shooting them piercing stares, the two of them sighing in sync as my mother leaned back in her chair, looking defeated.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re doing alright.” My father suddenly smiled and reached over the table, patting my hand a few times. I nodded with a silent hum and took another gulp of my orange juice, eyes finding the Song table again as they roared with laughter once again. I was about to sneer in their direction, when I realized Mingi was already looking at me, eyebrows lightly furrowed. I threw him a piercing stare, making him avert his gaze as he joined the cheers of his family, making me scoff.

“Aren’t they just a lovely bunch?” My mother mused with a dreamy sigh, “I have always wished vampires were able to reproduce more than once. Imagine all the little fangs we’d find once they fell out, little toes hitting the floorboards loudly, the giggles resounding in our vast mansion, the warm feeling of being a big family.”

Nothing could’ve sounded more horrible than the exact same thing my mother was describing. My father chuckled and took a sip of his wine, watching the Song family too now, “I bet those five pups were rascals while growing up.”

“Still are.” I muttered underneath my breath, thankful that my parents were too busy staring yearningly at the Song family.

“I love the warm and homey feeling they spread around themselves,” My mother smiled fondly, looking back at me, making me sick to my stomach when I saw the look in her eyes, “They truly are a treasure to Nocturnal Parade, lighting up every corner they pass with their positive energy. You’re lucky you get to go to the Academy at the same time as the pups.”

“Lucky,” I almost snorted, but quickly masked it as I took another sip of my orange juice, eyes finding Mingi’s again, “You’re right. I’m so lucky.”

For some unknown reason, I felt enticed by Mingi’s eyes on me, mind fuzzy for a second as I watched him stand and excuse himself from his parents, headed towards the side of the garden where large pillars kept the construction of the greenhouse up. My jaw ticked and I took a deep breath, trying to fight the sudden urge to go after Mingi, but I figured he deserved to be chastised for leaving his strong scent all over me, so, I quickly stood and told my parents I would be back as I tried not to hurry after him, instead ended up doing a speedwalk towards Mingi. When I came up behind him, I grabbed his arm and yanked him after me, away from the prying eyes and curious glances, behind a tall pillar, silence finally enveloping around me as I was away from the loud chatter and laughter of the gardens.

“What are you—”

“Why do I still smell like you?!” I snapped, glaring at Mingi as he pulled his arm out of my grip rather harshly, “Everyone can tell, Mingi! I thought nobody was supposed to know about—”

“And nobody knows, alright?!” Mingi snapped back, eyebrows furrowed as he didn’t look me in the eyes, “It’s not my fault you smell like me. It happens with anyone, not just me, Y/N.”

“Well nobody else’s scent I’ve slept with was as strong as yours, so it is your fault.” I hissed back, stepping closer, confused as to why Mingi wasn’t looking me in the face. Something felt off, something was wrong. I could simply feel it. There was a nervosity in my system that wasn’t there before, I almost felt the way Mingi looked. My faced blanked as something dropped deep in my stomach, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden need to reach out and touch Mingi. There was something so magnetic about him, something so luring that I stepped back with a gasp, watching Mingi alarmed and confused as his head whipped up.

“What have you done to me?” I asked in a whisper, hugging myself, trying to comfort myself as Mingi’s mouth fell open, gaping at me. The color drained from his face and my heartrate matched his as it started racing, profoundly confused.

“No—nothing.” It wasn’t like Mingi to stutter, it wasn’t like Mingi to suddenly avert his eyes and look small. It unsettled me and made me feel more panicked as I took a step forward, eyebrows furrowing more.

“Mingi.” I hissed, leaning down to try and look into his eyes, but he just looked further away, “Something happened, didn’t it?”

“No?” Mingi sounded far away from being convincing and I licked my lips in frustration, reaching out and grabbing his elbow. Mingi’s head whipped up towards me suddenly, his body heat so overwhelming that I felt dizzy as his cinnamon scent entered my senses, so calming that I felt my tense muscles suddenly relax. It was too confusing, never having experienced something like it before.

“I—” Mingi hesitated, sounding almost breathless as he looked me in my eyes finally, “I have imprinted on you, Y/N.”

“What?!” I screamed, releasing his elbow as if it burned me, eyes bulging and jaw on the floor as everything stilled around me. Mingi looked nervous and embarrassed as his cheeks flushed red, clearing his throat when I said nothing else, hoping that he’d say that he was just pulling a stupid prank on me.

“Mingi.” I hissed, getting all up in his face in a sudden burst of anger, glaring at him furiously, “What do you mean you imprinted on me?!”

“Exactly that, Y/N, oh, my God.” Mingi groaned, rubbing his face, taking a deep breath.

“No.” I snapped, fisting his grey sweater, “I—I refuse. No, unimprint on me or something!”

“What?” Mingi looked confused, rolling his eyes, “I can’t unimprint on you—that word doesn’t even exist, Y/N.”

“I don’t care what word exists and doesn’t, Mingi.” I hissed, yanking him down to be eye level with me, “You can’t fucking imprint on me. I’m a vampire and you’re a werewolf. What is wrong with you?!”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, stop being a bitch!” Mingi hissed, gripping my wrists. Electricity coursed through my skin where he touched me and my eyes widened in fright, giving him a look, but it didn’t seem to phase Mingi.

“Do you imprint on everyone you sleep with?!” I hissed, body shaking in anger, heart beating fast. It wasn’t helping that Mingi looked calm, almost defeated, as if this was final and he had accepted his fate.

The glare he gave me was sharp and unimpressed, “That’s not what this was—”

“Really?!” My voice raised again, panic coating my voice, “Because we were completely fine until last night, Mingi! And now you’re telling me that—you—I—that we’re—mates?!”

“We’ll be mates if you accept me, I thought you knew this by now—”

“It doesn’t make any sense!” I exclaimed, breathing fast as Mingi’s fingers suddenly started rubbing the skin of my wrist softly, sighing quietly, “You can’t imprint on me.”

“Calm down first, your heart is beating like crazy.” Mingi whispered, voice soft and raspy, warm brown eyes boring into mine. I felt on the verge of teras as his warmth engulfed me, coating me in safety I’ve never felt before, a bubble of safety and calmness wrapping around us. He started taking slow deep breaths, making me subconsciously copy him as I felt myself relax once again, shake his hands off once I felt fine. I took a step back and was rather rattled when my body instantly yearned for Mingi’s. This was bad. Very bad.

“You need to sort this out, Mingi.” I gestured around wildly, eyes wide, “Whatever you do, I don’t care. But you can’t imprint on me.”

“Well, I already did.” Mingi seemed annoyed as his words felt sharp, giving me a pointed stare, “So accept it, because it won’t change.”

“You can’t just say that!” I whisper-shouted, feeling furious again as Mingi continued acting nonchalant about this whole ordeal.

“I’m not as horrible as you think I am—”

“Mingi.” I snapped, shaking my head at him, “No. Just no. We’re not having this conversation. Unimprint on me and we’re done, that’s it!”

“I just told you, I can’t possibly—”

“Mingi?” A quiet voice called out, soft and timid as I whirled around, Mingi walking past me instantly.

“Yes, Dahyun?” Mingi smiled, previous tension and anger gone from his face, and he crouched in front of his much shorter sister. Dahyun gave me a warry look before poking Mingi’s cheek, giggling.

“Mom and dad are wondering where you are,” She muttered, casting me another warry look, “I saw you walking off with the vampire that smells like you, so I told them I’ll bring you back.”

It wasn’t hard to notice Mingi’s body freeze at his younger sister’s words and I scoffed, completely flabbergasted that this little girl could tell I smelled like Mingi. This was the absolute worst, and I was close to simply ceasing my existence once and for all. Before they could say anything to me, I stormed past them, headed back to my table, thinking of excuses I could use to get my parents out of the garden and away from the Song family.

The past few days have been…silent, weird, different, empty, almost. They felt unsettling and I found myself unable to sleep at night, and even if I did, I would wake up in a cold sweat, chest heavy and lungs heaving for air. Something just simply didn’t feel alright and I knew there was nothing wrong with me per se, with my vampire being, yet something was affecting me rather harshly. And it was noticeable in my appearance as well. No matter how often and how much I fed, my skin looked sickly pale and the glow of my dense hair seemed absent no matter how much I tried fixing it. My cheeks had fallen slightly in, creating a hollowness in them that wasn’t there before. I looked like I was decaying and I didn’t understand why when I was completely healthy and fine. Yet, something was doing this to me and I couldn’t help but blame it on this whole imprinting thing, and Mingi. I haven’t seen him since Parents Day, and despite deciding to avoid him for an eternity, it seemed like Mingi had the same thing in mind as me. Even in our shared classes, he was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t even smell him or hear him, yet Yunho was certainly there, his aura very much so present. Nobody said anything, perhaps too afraid to make a comment about my sickly appearance, and I knew I needed answers. I couldn’t go on like this anymore despite not wanting to see Mingi. There was something very wrong about my body, something internal and scarily real as the longer I stayed away from him, the stronger the yearning became. The heaviness in my chest only got worse with each ticking minute, and I knew I couldn’t go on like this anymore when I started listening in on the creatures’ conversations around me, searching for Mingi’s name, searching for his voice even, for his infuriatingly loud and obnoxious laughter, his unbearable stench, and his stupid siblings. I needed to put an end to my own suffering, therefore I decided to act like an adult for the first time in my life, and find Mingi in order to talk things through, even if I didn’t want to.

History of the Vampires was an excruciatingly long class and I couldn’t wait to be finished with it, unable to sit still as my mind kept wandering elsewhere, desperately trying to clock Mingi’s voice or even aura in the building. But it was harder to find him than I thought it would be, almost as if he was hiding himself from me, Yunho’s strong aura overbearing Mingi’s whenever they were together. And I knew those two were together as I searched for familiar voices conversing, lowering my head so that my professor wouldn’t notice my closed eyes as I focused on singling out Mingi’s raspy and deep voice amongst his siblings as they were out in the fields, not too far away from the classroom I was in. Dahyun was talking to him, and it was the first time I heard the younger girl’s voice for such a long period, animatedly retelling a story to Mingi about a boy she liked in her class. At first I thought Mingi wasn’t talking to her, until I realized Wooyoung and Yeri’s cackling was too loud for me to pinpoint Mingi’s soft voice as he muttered to Dahyun words I couldn’t understand. It felt alarming how easily I found myself wanting to know more about Mingi’s bond with his siblings, wondering whether I would fit in with them. And it was hard to listen to Mingi’s quiet voice as he departed with Yunho from the rest of their siblings, the twins headed to class as Mingi’s aura remained still dull, washed out by Yunho’s. I didn’t think masking one’s existence was possible, but then again, I didn’t know much about werewolves and their abilities as I always remained ignorant to them due to my hatred towards them.

Once class was over I excused myself from my friends in a hurry, finally able to pinpoint Mingi’s exact location as Yunho wasn’t so close to him anymore, making it easy for me to follow Mingi’s voice and scent. He was two floors below my classroom, having their own history class about Werewolves. By the time I got to the classroom not many students were there, however, I could hear a few still inside, Mingi included. Closing my eyes as I leaned against the stone wall, I could hear him scribbling something in his notebook, muttering to himself about having forgotten to do his physics homework. Yunho had left Mingi behind, saying that he was becoming restless, and how he needed a run before their next class. The full moon was tonight, I could only assume it had something to do with their moods, werewolves became rather restless in the afternoons on full moon nights. Finally, the last three students left the classroom laughing and whispering to each other, looking back inside, no doubt gawking at Mingi. Something clenched in my stomach, making me hiss at the three girls as they passed in front of me, looking fearful once they noticed who I was. The scurried away and I couldn’t help but smirk in glee, that is until I heard Mingi scrambling around the classroom, gathering his things to leave. I took a deep breath and willed myself to push off the wall, hands slightly trembling as I appeared in the doorway just when Mingi was about to step through it.

He gasped; eyes wide. Our gazed connected and I couldn’t help but smile at him, tilting my head in wonder as he gulped hard, audibly, licking his chapped lips. There was little distance between our bodies, and he suddenly took three big steps backwards, making my eyebrows furrow in disdain as his comfortable warmth disappeared with him. My heart shouldn’t have picked up so fast, racing just at the sight of him, senses flooded with his cinnamon and fresh grass scent. I took a step forward, the door shutting behind me with a loud thud, trapping Mingi and I inside the otherwise empty classroom. The windows were open, a warm fresh breeze slithering inside. It probably wasn’t the reason why Mingi’s cheeks were suddenly flushed, gaze averted again as he cleared his throat loudly, as if something was stuck there. I allowed myself a short moment to take in his appearance, and was taken aback to find him sickly looking, dark bags underneath his tired looking eyes, lips chapped to the point of looking painful, and cheeks as hollow as mine. It was startling, and it only raised more questions in my mind as I took a deep breath, the strong cinnamon scent burning the back of my throat.

“We need to speak,” I spoke up, voice unsure as I continued looking at Mingi, who was still avoiding eye contact, “something is…happening to me.”

Ever so slowly, he turned his head, eyes reluctantly falling on me. His thick eyebrows furrowed as his eyes racked my body, then stopped on my face, looking very confused, “Were you avoiding me?”

Mingi hummed, pursing his lips as he cleared his throat, “Yes.”

I didn’t expect him to be so honest, for some reason it didn’t feel nice at all, “How did you mask yourself so well?”

“A pack can mask their wolves when sensing danger.” Mingi explained, eyes suddenly steeling as he licked his lips again. My eyebrows furrowed, feeling confused all over again.

“Am I a danger to you?” I found myself whispering, looking at Mingi questioningly. Something in my stomach dropped at the prospect of me being the cause of danger to Mingi.

“With how much you keep threatening me, yes.” I chuckled humorlessly at Mingi’s words, and he looked just as unamused as I felt. His shoulders were slouched forward as he shook his head, looking defeated, “What do you want, Y/N?”

“To talk.”

“Then talk.”

I gulped, feeling off thrown by Mingi’s hostile attitude, acting as if he didn’t even want to see me. Hadn’t he imprinted on me? Weren’t we supposed to be mates now? Why was he being so cold towards me? My heart beat faster, body yearning to feel Mingi’s warmth so desperately that I had to dig my nails in my palms to stop myself from marching up to him and latching myself onto his body.

“Ever since you—imprinted on me, I just—I don’t know.” I gulped, averting my eyes as Mingi’s sharp gaze bore into mine, “We haven’t seen each other in almost four days and I—I don’t feel well, Mingi. Something is happening to me, and I don’t understand what—”

I gasped at how fast Mingi closed the gap between us, orchid-colored eyes boring into mine, making me shrink back in fear. Have I angered him again? Was he going to hurt me? But to my surprise, Mingi’s hand gently cupped my cheek as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, holding it in his lungs as I remained still, afraid to breathe. Nobody spoke as he slowly exhaled, eyes snapping open, once again brown, staring at me with a newfound softness in them. I gulped, taken aback by the tingles traveling all over my body, cheek warm from Mingi’s palm, a safety bubble nestling around us. I felt complete again, the heaviness in my chest not as strong as before, my heartbeat beating fast like never before, a pull so strong towards Mingi deep in my being that I realized I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Mingi licked his lips again, suddenly looking like he’s made up his mind about something, softly exhaling again as he opened his mouth to speak, probably, but I couldn’t focus on anything else anymore but the feel of Mingi so close to myself. I didn’t need to hear his words in this moment, I needed to feel him. And I did just that as I desperately cupped his cheeks, pressing my lips against his. Mingi froze, unmoving and hand falling from my cheek limply as I squeezed my eyes shut tight, inhaling his comforting scent as our lips molded together.

As I went to pull back, realizing that Mingi wouldn’t kiss back, suddenly fingers tangled in my hair and pushed my head back with a newfound force, our lips crashing against each other as Mingi whimpered, not wasting any time as he set a bruising pace. My hands slipped from his cheeks to hug around his neck as I flushed my body against his, sighing into the kiss as my body almost felt like it was lit from the inside, heart fluttering, and the yearning in my stomach turning into a desperate want as the pace of our slick lips quickened, desperately needing more of Mingi. I moaned against his mouth as he captured my bottom lip between his lips, suckling on it softly before licking it, and hovering his lips against mine, breathing through his mouth as shivers racked my spine. My fingers tangled in his hair, which was in a half-up ponytail again, and I quickly got rid of the hair tie as I gently pulled on his soft locks, parting my mouth in permission for Mingi. I could hear his heart beating like crazy, faster than mine even, and in a flash, his tongue was pushing past my lips, tangling with mine, my skin feeling as if it was on fire. Mingi was warm, almost to the point he was burning up, and I failed to notice it getting transferred to my own body as I clung to him, moaning when he skillfully licked inside my mouth, taking his sweet time to suck on my tongue before allowing me to push mine inside his mouth, relishing in the quiet whimpers that left the back of his throat. His hands eagerly explored my body as they slowly slipped towards my backside, squeezing my ass hard through the skirt of my uniform, my eyebrows furrowing as I tried not to moan. With our heads now tilted, I felt myself turn into a puddle as Mingi hiked one of my leg’s up before making me jump up, legs squeezing around his waist firmly as I held onto him. Mingi didn’t stop kissing me as he walked us towards a desk, gently setting me down as we broke apart for a second to fill our lungs with air.

As he tried to step back, I tightened my legs around his waist and pulled him even closer to myself, biting my lower lip when his heavily ring clad fingers grasped at my left thigh, black tinted nails digging into my flesh. Mingi’s hot puffs of air landed on my lips and I licked mine, failing to notice the lust in Mingi’s eyes as he watched me closely, eyes constantly flickering between brown and orchid. He rested his right hand on the desk, next to my hip, as he pressed his forehead against mine. My breathing was heavy as I realized just how badly I needed to feel all of him, feeling on the verge of craze as he lifted his chin ever so slightly when I went to kiss his lips, making my eyebrows furrow as I whined at the denial. But I quickly was forced to inhale sharply as Mingi’s calloused, big, hand slowly slipped up higher on my thigh, underneath my skirt, making me groan as he massaged the inside of my thigh, my lips attaching to the skin of chin. It was soft despite the little stubble growing out, and Mingi moaned as my lips travelled lower, pressing open mouthed kissed against his neck, his Adam’s apple, nipping at his hot skin at the junction between his neck and collarbones, slightly distracted by Mingi’s grip on my thigh tightening as I slipped a hand under his shirt. His abdomen was firm and his muscles tensed under my fingertips as Mingi looked down at me while breathing heavily as I blinked at him innocently, a soft groan escaping his lips before he crashed his lips against mine.

It felt like my soul was alive again, a fire lit deep in my stomach as our tongues battled for dominance, and I pulled Mingi’s body flush against mine, moaning when I felt his erection press against my core, fingers tangling in his hair once again firmly. Mingi moaned as I pulled on the longer strands around his nape, making me gasp against his lips as he moved his hips, slowly grinding against me. His warm palm slowly slipped from my thigh and I whined at the loss of it, but his hand instead went and gripped my waist firmly, keeping me in place as he moved slowly, dragging his hard-on against my throbbing core. His free hand cupped my covered breast and I moaned into his mouth as his tongue pushed deep inside my mouth, toes curling as he kept grinding against me, setting my skin on fire, his scent intoxicating as the layers separating us became unbearable.

“Mingi,” I pulled my head back, moaning as Mingi didn’t stop kissing me, latching his lips onto my neck instead, “this isn’t talking—Mingi!”

I yelped as his fangs nipped against the sensitive skin of my neck, making me throw my head back as I gripped his belt, trying to stop him from grinding against me anymore, everything becoming too much.

“Mingi,” I tried again, voice breathless as he sucked at a spot under my collarbones harshly, licking it slowly afterwards, “we’re in a classroom, we have to stop.”

“I never thought you’d be a prude.” Mingi’s voice was extremely low as he spoke against my skin, lips like feather as they brushed against my heated body.

“I’m not a prude,” I hissed as Mingi’s hips stilled, but with his hard-on pressing sharply against my clothed core, “but if a professor walks in, we’re done for.”

Mingi groaned and he raised his head to rest his forehead against my shoulder, taking deep breaths as I licked my lips, staring up at the ceiling as I tried to ignore the desperate need to rip his clothes off and let him take me on this desk. Mingi took a deep breath, which tickled me once he exhaled, and I felt him move as he looked up at me, releasing my waist as he gently cupped my face again, pushing the strands of hair behind my ears, smiling cutely as his cheeks were flushed pink.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this alive before.” He whispered, truly looking like he felt lighter. It was a little disheartening as I realized that the heaviness was lifted off of my chest, my own skin buzzing with excitement as I felt myself smiling back. The truth was that I felt the same as Mingi, but I was too afraid to admit it. Something was changing and I was afraid to acknowledge it when I spent my whole life hating on the species right in front of me, in between my legs, making my heart swell with his gorgeous smile and cute flush, his deep eyes, and clumsy personality. I was still afraid of werewolves, I still hated them, but I couldn’t deny the sudden pull towards Mingi anymore.

“We have to talk.” I didn’t mean to break the serene bubble around us, but we needed to clarify so many things, “I have too many questions, and you have a lot to explain.”

Mingi nodded with a hum, lowering his head, surprising me as he slowly nuzzled his cheek against mine, inhaling deeply, making me blush as the endearing action. Nobody has ever done that before, and it made my skin jittery as it felt good.

“I promise we will talk, but tonight’s the full moon and my mind is all fogged-up, Y/N,” Mingi explained as he gave me an awkward smile, “I can’t exactly…think right now, if you know what I mean. And I don’t want to do something we’d both regret later. All I can think about is marking you right now, and that needs a serious conversation first.”

My heart jumped in fright at the mention of marking, and I gulped as I slowly nodded my head, realizing finally that Mingi had no malicious intentions towards me. If he did, he wouldn’t be saying things like that, nor treating me gently. I offered him a small smile and he chuckled, leaning down to press a lasting kiss against my lips.

“It’s a shame we must stop, but,” Mingi smiled cheekily as he removed himself from my body, much to my dismay, “I have to go to class, I’m already late, and I know Yunho will come looking for me in exactly three minutes.”

I chuckled as I watched Mingi try and straighten his clothes, brushing through his long strands, searching for the hair tie, which seemed to be gone. I grinned as he gave up searching for it, instead went and grabbed his backpack discarded on the floor.

“See you tomorrow?” He raised his eyebrows, still adjusting his messy hair, “When I’m not thinking with my dick?”

I snorted, nodding my head as I licked my lips and crossed my legs, remaining seated on top of the desk, “See you tomorrow after lunch break, I know you have a free period.”

“Someone’s been stalking me, huh?” Mingi smirked as I looked away embarrassed, gulping before I admitted a little secret of mine.

“When you spend so much time hating on someone, it’s alarming how much you learn about them.” Mingi’s smirk only widened to my horror, completely amused by my admission, instead of feeling hurt or even angry.

“What a little freak I have to deal with—”

“I’m not a freak!” I exclaimed in irritation, making Mingi chuckle as he walked backwards towards the door.

“We’ll see after I find out more about you,” He winked as he opened the door, “Take care, doll.”

I rolled my eyes as my face flushed at the pet name, and my eyes stayed glued to the door even after Mingi was long gone, his footsteps faded as he made his way towards his classroom, Yunho making a ruckus as to why he was late and why he looked so shaken up. I chuckled and fell backwards on the desk, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly as I raised my hands, playing with the black hair tie around my wrist. This was becoming real, wasn’t it?

I bobbed my head to the music as I wrote down some more numbers, rubbing my forehead as I had been doing equations for more than an hour now. It was late in the evening, and after Irene and I studied for a while together, she said she needed to go somewhere, and left around half an hour ago. She promised she’d be back early tonight and we could have a girl’s night, but I had my doubts about that as I knew she was with Seulgi. It didn’t bother me as much as it normally would’ve as my mind was distracted with thoughts of Mingi, impatiently waiting for tomorrow to arrive so that we’d finally discuss where this…something…was headed between us. The wind had picked up and it was rattling the old hinges of the window, and I turned my head to look out the window, lightning in the distance. A storm was coming, and the dark clouds made it hard to spot the full moon, but its light was strong enough to pinpoint it on the dark sky.

As I started solving another equation, the guitar in the song I was listening to was soft and calming, but there were rapid knocks against the door of the room, disturbing my peace, making me look towards it with furrowed eyebrows. It was almost eight in the evening, slowly we were approaching curfew. Only the wolves were allowed outside past curfew tonight, so it made me wonder who it could have been. I placed my pen down and pushed away from my desk, standing and stretching my stiff muscles as I went to swing the door open. I was rather surprised to find a short, dark haired, girl standing in the hallway, chewing on her lower lip as she looked up at me. We stared at each other for a few seconds, me flabbergasted to find Dahyun standing in my doorway, and the little girl staring past me, inside my room, wonderingly.

“Uh, what are you doing here?” I asked confused, eyebrows furrowing.

“Is Mingi here?” She asked quietly, trying to look inside my room again.

“No, why?” I answered curtly, watching the girl warily.

“Are you sure?” She pressed, looking up with a glare at me, “Are you lying to me?”

I scoffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest as a rather strong gust of wind rattled the windows out in the hallway. The lights flickered for a second, making both Dahyun and I pause as we looked around.

“Why would I lie to you?” I asked once Dahyun faced me again, and I rolled my eyes when the girl continued glaring at me, “Be my guest and have a look inside my room. I haven’t seen Mingi, why would I even know where he is? Isn’t he your brother?”

Dahyun didn’t seem too happy with my answer, and suddenly her small hand grabbed mine and I was yanked down with such force that I gasped, taken aback by just how strong the little werewolf girl was. I stiffened when her face suddenly pressed forward, nose pressing against the junction between my neck and collarbone, inhaling deeply.

“What—what are you doing?” I stuttered, brushing the girl off, feeling weirded out.

“Mingi scented you.” The girl said, eyebrows furrowing as she took a step back, taking me in fully, “You smell like him, that’s why I thought he was here.”

I felt rather confused as I smelled myself, but felt no scent of Mingi on myself. What did she mean that he scented me? Wasn’t that a werewolf thing? How could he even scent a vampire? When did he do it that I didn’t even notice?

“I don’t smell like him.” I objected, glaring down at the girl as she looked suddenly scared when there was a flash of lightning in the distance. I opened my mouth to send her off, but the way she latched onto my arm and looked up at me pleadingly made me pause.

“I can’t feel Mingi’s scent,” The little girl whimpered, “and a storm is coming, I’m scared. Mingi always tucks me in before bed, and I’ve searched for him everywhere and I can’t find him.”

I felt awkward as I cleared my throat, not knowing how to comfort the distressed girl, “Uh, well, you have many siblings. Go find them.”

“I need to find Mingi.” Dahyun stressed, “I know where Yunho is as I can feel his aura and smell his scent, but for some reason Mingi’s gone. I’m scared something happened to him, Y/N.”

I gulped, suddenly fearing the same as I tried to listen closely as I searched for Mingi’s voice in the vicinity, but came up empty handed. I sighed as I continued looking at the girl, who started shaking now, and I shook my head, “Wooyoung and Yeri will certainly help you.”

“Wooyoung is also shifting tonight and Yeri didn’t even open the door when I told her it was me knocking,” My eyebrows furrowed at the cruelty of her older sister, feeling a sneer wanting to settle on my face, “Can you help me, please?”

Perhaps the sweet, and teary, puppy eyes staring up into mine were what broke my resolve as I sighed and nodded tiredly, watching a smile appear on Dahyun’s face, “Where should I look for Mingi?”

“They are usually at the shed at this time.” She said, detaching herself from me. My eyebrows furrowed as my heart lightly picked up, mouth going dry at the prospect of having to step outside during a full moon while the campus was littered with wild, animalistic, werewolves running around freely.

“I can’t go out there, I’m sorry.” I muttered, eyebrows furrowed, “The whole place is infested with werewolves and I—”

“They haven’t shifted yet, I promise.” Dahyun quickly interjected, “Mingi always struggles shifting, and Yunho always waits for him. Please, it’s not dangerous to look for them, they are very docile and still recognize everyone in their wolf forms. Please, Y/N, please.”

I gulped and looked outside through the window behind Dahyun, feeling a coldness seep through my bones the longer I thought about this stupid request. But I couldn’t deny that I also felt worried for Mingi now, and one more look at Dahyun had me giving in, “Alright, wait here, and I’ll go look for Mingi. If Irene, my roommate, comes back, tell her that I let you stay here until I come back, okay?”

“Yes, thank you very much!” Dahyun almost cried in happiness as she walked inside my room, making me sigh again as I grabbed my light cardigan, wrapping it around myself tightly as I left the room. I tied my hair with the black hair tie forgotten on my wrist as I knew the harsh wind would whip it all around in my face.

Perhaps coming out to the shed in a long skirt and a t-shirt with nothing but a cardigan on in such violent wind wasn’t the brightest idea as I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to warm myself by rubbing my hands up and down quickly. However, it offered little to no warmth, and I shivered as I heard howling in the distance, my skirt getting caught in dry weed as I hissed, tumbling a little forward and into the door of the shed. At least I have finally reached it. It isn’t too far from the dorms, but it’s on the outskirts of the forest, and I could feel my heartbeat picking up as I knocked on the door loudly.

“Mingi?!” I called out over the loud wind, carefully pushing the door open, sticking my head inside to see if anyone was in. But it seemed empty and I took a warry step inside, feeling my eyes turn scarlet as my senses spiked as I felt on edge so exposed and alone. I slowly walked further inside, scanning the shed, but Mingi’s scent was absent, and he was nowhere to be seen as well. I sighed as I tightened the cardigan around myself and leaned over the table discarded in the middle of the room, finding clothes scattered around. I could smell the stench of wet dog, yet Mingi’s scent was absent. Maybe it weren’t his clothes, however the disregarded chains looked a lot like his necklaces. I sighed, and went to turn around when the old floorboard creaked up front, making me freeze. I slowly raised my head, looking around again, feeling my heartbeat quicken even more.

“Mingi?” I whispered, chewing on my bottom lip in fear, my breath coming in short as there was another creak. Just as I opened my mouth to call out his name again, two glowing orchid-colored eyes appeared in the dense darkness, making me gasp loudly as my hands slapped against the desk as they fell from around my body. I stared into the beasts eyes as it stepped forward from the shadows, form huge and menacing as its fangs were long. Its fur was midnight black and thick, scent completely unrecognizable as I tried to sniff around for Mingi. My body trembled as we looked each other dead in the eyes, memories of that dreadful night flashing in my mind.

The weather had been similar, wind blowing harshly and a distant rumble in the skies as the storm was fast approaching. I was playing in the flower field on our propriety, gathering flowers before the pouring rain arrived, humming a song to myself, oblivious to the world around myself. I had turned five years old just a few days ago, I had no worries in the world, nothing to be afraid of. That is until I realized something was snarling not too far away from me, staring at me piercingly, as I giggled while playing with my imaginary friends. It wasn’t a full moon, but for rogue werewolves it didn’t matter whether it was day or night, full moon or not. Just as I was about to turn around and leave for the mansion, it pounced on me, snarling in my face as I was pinned to the cold ground, shrieking and screaming as its saliva dripped on me. I could still remember, and feel, the pure terror that coursed through my whole being, screaming and calling for my parents to help me. The werewolf didn’t like that I was being so loud, or a vampire, and it bared its teeth at me when I started crying, begging it to let me go. The rogue wolf was scary and strong, no matter how hard I tried to escape, I couldn’t. It happened in a flash, it’s claws pressing painfully against my chest as its teeth ripped through the skin of my forearm, making me cry out so loudly that I thought I broke my vocal cords. It felt as if someone pushed a burning rod inside my body one after another, two sharp needles ripping your skin apart, tearing you up from the inside. My body started convulsing as I continued screaming, mind hazy and breathing ragged from the excruciating pain. I didn’t remember much after that, only waking up numb in the hospital, tubes connected to my left arm and bicep bandaged tightly, my mother sitting at my side, and only crying harder when she saw I had opened my eyes. The second my father walked in with the werewolf doctor is when everything suddenly dawned on me, sending me into a hysterical fit, to the point I needed to be sedated, trembling and crying out for the poor doctor to stay away from me. It was a trauma I was forced to live with, and I could never actually put it past myself, that pain forever present in the back of my mind as my faded bite mark started pulsing painfully once again.

I took a slow step backwards, barely even moving, but the werewolf caught it and suddenly snarled, making me jump in terror as even my head started shaking violently in fear. I was taken back to that day, when I was a defenseless little girl, almost killed by a monster so similar to the one facing me right now. My attacker had black fur with white patches, I could never forget its fur and orchid eyes. I knew wolves had the urge to chase their prey once they started running, but it was either I stayed here and surely died, or tried to run and save myself. I acted upon realizing I wasn’t ready to die at the claws of this monster, and turned swiftly, taking off as I heard the werewolf howl behind me, jumping over the table to chase after me. I screamed when I realized he was really after me, snarling and howling every few minutes, a lot faster than I had anticipated. I had to grip my skirt and raise it above my knees as my lungs burned and muscles strained, never having ran this fast before in my life. My mind was only focused on saving myself, on taking me far away from danger. I didn’t realize that I was running further inside the forest instead of heading towards the dorms, where the werewolves were forbidden of entering once they have shifted.

I ran even faster as my sensitive ears picked up on the loud thuds the werewolf was making as it chased after me, snarling louder, sounding completely furious as I was gasping for air, lungs completely empty and begging for me to take a breather, but if I stopped, I would die. I pushed even more, using my inhumane speed to try and get rid of the beast, but it seemed like it did nothing as the wolf chased after me without sounding tired and nowhere near of giving up on its pursuit of me. I was becoming desperate, I couldn’t go on like this for much longer, my body was shaking despite me running. I was filled with adrenaline, heart pumping my blood fast as I ran for my life, until I felt the werewolf nipping at the back of my skirt with its large teeth, making me cry out in fright. I turned my head to see the distance between us, but it was a foolish action as it caused me to lose my footing, tripping in the huge twigs scattered around the forest floor, sending me to the ground with a painful tumble. I cried out as I felt my skin scrape through my cardigan, even if it would heal in mere seconds, it was still painful. I hadn’t even realized that I have started crying, and now that the werewolf was just a foot behind me, snarling and hissing at me animalistically, I started crying loudly, trying to get away from it until my back hit a tree.

“Please,” I whimpered, jumping when the wolf growled at me, staring me menacingly in the eyes. I shook my head and pressed my hands against my mouth, lungs heaving for air as my whole body shook, eyes filled to the brim with tears, my vision blurry, “Mingi!”

I didn’t understand why I called out his name, but I found myself desperately clinging onto his name as if it would save me, as if it would send the werewolf away, “Mingi! Please, Mingi! Help!”

My screams were shrill and my throat hurt, but it only made me shake more as the black wolf growled and almost jumped at me, hitting its paws against the forest floor annoyed, hissing, and puffing. I could feel the pain I felt that day, spreading from my bicep down to my arm, infecting my brain with that excruciating ache, and I started sobbing as I pressed my head against my knees, curling up in a ball as if it would’ve protected me from the beast. I didn’t even realize it in that moment, but I started calling out Mingi’s name as if it were a mantra, praying to all celestial powers that he would show up and save me from this monster, which was coming closer and closer, its hisses and growls louder by the second. I hate werewolves, I hate them so much, yet I was calling out the name of one until my throat was too dry to scream anymore. Only my sobs could be heard around us, and the scream I let out when I felt arms wrapping around me, sending me into a panicked state as I trashed around, trying to fight the grip they had on me off. I couldn’t hear and I couldn’t see due to the deep-rooted fear I felt, that is, until a faint voice slowly started getting to me, my brain registering the familiar rasp of it, the deep tone I was used to hearing.

“Y/N, Y/N, please, it’s me,” The voice was soft and scared, sounding almost like it was talking to a scared little child, “It’s me, Y/N, Mingi. I’m Mingi, you’re safe, please—”

My arms flew around Mingi’s neck as I threw myself at him, gasping for air loudly as I clung to him to the point my nails dug into his naked shoulders, drawing blood. Mingi’s body felt warm, muscles stiff, but he instantly cradled me against himself, fingers tangling in my hair as he started quietly shushing me. I continued to cry for a few more minutes, hard to completely calm down, but Mingi’s warmth and reassuring words seemed to get my heartrate back to normal, making me forget the panic I felt just minutes ago.

“You’re alright, I’m here.” Mingi’s nose pressed into my hair, lips barely brushing against my ear as he whispered quietly into it, “You’re safe, I’m here. Nothing will hurt you, Y/N, you can calm down now. I’m here, I got you.”

I let out a shuddered breath as I closed my eyes, pressing my face into Mingi’s neck and inhaling his comforting scent, feeling my muscles ease up as Mingi’s fingers brushed through my disheveled hair, pressing kisses against my temple. I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh, heart still beating fast, and body on high alert as the adrenaline didn’t leave me yet.

“Mingi.” I croaked out, slowly pulling my head back to look at him, feeling my lips tremble as I realized just how terrified I had been, “I was so—”

“It’s okay now,” Mingi cut me off with a small smile, expression soft as he nuzzled his nose against mine, closing his eyes for a second, “You don’t have to talk. Just sit in my arms and calm down.”

“Mingi,” I whispered, feeling the need to cry again, but I forced the tears away just as Mingi’s cheek touched mine, and he nuzzled them together just like he had done earlier today, in the classroom, “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

Mingi looked confused once he pulled back, but when he noticed I was looking at the bloody nail marks on his shoulders, he just chuckled and shrugged, “Don’t worry, I’ve been roughed up way worse before.”

I looked into his eyes again and loosened my suffocating grip around him, but still clung onto him, overlooking the fact that he was completely naked. I was still trembling and afraid, I wasn’t physically able to let go of him yet. And just then, there was a growl to our right, and I gasped as I turned my head and saw the black werewolf standing there, eyes set sharply on Mingi. My body started shaking violently again and I felt my fight or flight kick in again, but Mingi held me strongly against himself, caging me against his body as he hugged me tightly, shushing me when I tried to speak up.

“You, asshole!” Mingi hissed towards the werewolf, making my eyes widen, “What is wrong with you, Yunho?!”

My eyes widened as I snapped my head towards the wolf, finding him shuffling on his four legs, snarling his teeth at us.

“Why would you chase her, are you nuts?!” Mingi’s voice was raising, I could feel his heartrate quicken underneath my cold hand, “You know she has some sort of trauma with werewolves and you go chasing her around the fucking forest, during a full moon, you idiot!”

Mingi’s words were sharp, and it was visible on his face that he was beyond pissed as he snarled his own fangs at the black werewolf, which was Yunho, apparently. I remained silent as I watched the exchange between the twins, one in human form, the other in werewolf form, my muscles tense but not like before as I realized I was away from danger now. There was a whimper and I cast my eyes upon Yunho, who was looking down at the forest floor, dragging his front paws as if he was asking for forgiveness.

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, dude,” Mingi snapped, shaking his head in disappointment, “I’m done running around for tonight, go find Wooyoung or someone else. And don’t come back tonight to the dorm after you’re done being an asshole. Get lost!”

I watched with an open mouth as the big, black, and scary werewolf hung its head even lower, cries and whimpers leaving its mouth as it started jumping around, pressing its front paws forcefully and harshly into the solid soil.

“Stop throwing a fit, Yunho.” Mingi said with a roll of his eyes, his hands rubbing my back up and down in a comforting manner, “I won’t tell you to get lost again.”

The werewolf growled, but it lacked power and menace as he cast us one lasting stare before it turned around and ran off with loud howls, making Mingi roll his eyes again before he looked back at me. He had an apologetic look on his face and I sniffed, snot threatening to come out of my nose due to the extensive crying I had done tonight. Mingi’s hands cupped my face again and he gently wiped the fresh tears off, pressing kisses against my cheeks before he pressed a soft one against my lips, my eyes falling shut at the plushness of his warm and soft lips.

“I’m sorry about that,” Mingi sighed, sounding ashamed and disappointed, “Yunho can be a huge idiot. He thought chasing you around was a way to get back at you, but I don’t find it funny at all.”

I gulped and nodded wordlessly, clearing my throat despite it feeling sore, “How did you know…about my trauma…”

Mingi hummed, sitting back and gently pulling me in his lap, my cheeks flushing as he sat naked, looking quite unbothered, as I forced myself to look at his face only, preferably in his warm brown eyes.

“Well, first of all, the bite mark.” Mingi explained, gently touching where my mark was, looking sad, “And well, you know, the whole hatred towards us and all that shit, it’s not hard to put two and two together.”

“I’m sorry.” I found myself whispering, feeling ashamed of myself all of a sudden.

“Hey, don’t be, it’s alright—”

“It’s not,” I cut him off, eyes hardening as I gulped, “I put you through so much just because I’m traumatized, and you have nothing to do with it. I’m a horrible creature.”

“I can’t imagine what you must’ve went through to feel so strongly against us,” Mingi’s fingers intertwined with mine as he rested our hands in my lap, “And I never blamed you for it one second. Of course, your bullying did get too much at times, but I always had my family to back me up and reassure me. I never had a problem with you bothering me as long as you left my family one.”

My cheeks turned pink as I looked to the side, biting my lower lip as Mingi chuckled. I blushed even harder when he leaned closer and kissed my cheek again, “I guess you always had a thing for me.”

“Shut up, Mingi,” I groaned, looking him in the eyes again, “This is so not the moment nor place to turn cocky on me.”

“I could turn into only one thing right now,” Mingi chuckled, eyes flashing an orchid-color, “But I think the cocky thing is something we could take care of faster—”

“Song Mingi!” I slapped his hard chest, glaring at him for saying such things while I sat in his naked lap. Mingi cackled, biting his lower lip once he was done, watching me amused as I tried to get off his lap, but he didn’t let me.

“Glad to see you calm and comfortable again,” Mingi mused, grinning as he ruffled my hair, making it even worse than it already was from all the running, “but I must ask, why the hell were you even outside on a full moon, Y/N?”

“Because of your stupid sister—” I cleared my throat quickly, “I mean, sweet sister, Dahyun. She said she couldn’t feel your scent and was scared of the approaching storm. Plus that you tuck her in every night, so…”

Mingi sighed loudly, looking up at the dark sky. I looked around us, realizing that the sky was rumbling, the lightning just above our heads. I was too distracted to realize that the storm was minutes away from starting.

“That silly girl,” Mingi muttered, chuckling as he gently pushed me off himself, “I hate to tell you, but she was only pranking you, a plan probably elaborated with Yunho—”

“What?!” I exclaimed as I scurried off to my feet, gaping at Mingi as he chuckled, rubbing his nape.

“Yeah, well, uh…you know, she hasn’t let me inside her room since she was in fourth grade, which was like…four years ago.” Mingi pursed his lips, also standing, the view quite a sight as I quickly plastered my gaze on his face only, “She didn’t lie about the storm though as she usually comes to me for comfort. She must’ve gotten scared and went looking for me, having a pretext to send you outside.”

“Why couldn’t she feel your scent, then?” I asked as Mingi suddenly swept me off of my feet, making me yelp as I clung onto him as he held me bridal style.

“I don’t know,” Mingi shrugged, looking nonchalant, “My scent comes and goes sometimes when I shift.”

“Oh,” I muttered, giving Mingi a questioning gaze as he started walking through the forest, headed back to the shed, “What are you doing?”

“Taking you back to the dorms.” He said with a smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “You certainly must’ve grown thirsty after seeing me in all of my naked glory.”

“Mingi.” I blanched, giving him a deadpan look, “You better put me down right now.”

“Hmm, let me think about it,” He pursed his lips mockingly, looking up towards the sky, “No.”

“Mingi—”

“I’ll put you down once we’re in my room.” He winked, and something coiled in my stomach as I gulped.

“Your room?” I mused, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Of course, don’t think I’m leaving you alone tonight, what if the big, scary, black wolf comes back to eat you?” He cackled and I smacked his chest hard, making him groan in pain.

“You’re making me think you were in on the plan too.” I hissed, glaring at his perfect jawline. Mingi chuckled and just shook his head, giving me a pointed stare.

“Tormenting my mate isn’t top of my list, you know?”

“We’re not mates.” I muttered.

“Yet.” Mingi grinned.

“Ever.” I hissed and Mingi licked his lips before biting his bottom lip, his heart thumping just a little bit faster as I could feel his giddiness radiate off of him.

“Do you know you drank my blood when we slept together—”

“What?!” I snapped mortified, almost jumping out of his arms, “I did not!”

“Uh, yes, you did.” Mingi chuckled, wriggling his head at me funnily, “I found two little punctures at the base of my neck.”

I felt mortified hearing that, face turning completely red and muscles tensing. It wasn’t forbidden to feed off of other night creatures, it’s just that it was a very intimate action, usually only practiced between vampire lovers.

“You know, it’s funny,” Mingi’s eyes were glinting as he looked down at me, “It’s where my scent gland is, the spot where werewolves mark each other when mating—”

“Mingi, please, stop.” I pressed a hand against his mouth, completely and utterly embarrassed. But he licked my palm, making me yelp as I ripped my hand away from his mouth.

“I think you triggered my imprinting, isn’t that the funniest thing ever?”

“Oh, my fucking God,” I wailed, squeezing my eyes shut in mortification, “Kill me right now, Mingi.”

“Can’t do that, doll, not when you’re the love of my life.” Mingi chuckled, nearing the edge of the forest finally.

“Stop spewing non-sense,” Yet I felt my heart beat just a little faster, cheeks heating up hearing his words, “I thought we agreed to talk about this whole thing tomorrow.”

“True,” Mingi hummed, smiling contently, “So, how’s your memory?”

“Why?” I raised an eyebrow in suspicion as Mingi smirked, looking ahead.

“Mine’s a little foggy, that’s why.” He said nonchalantly, making me gulp as I had a hunch what he was talking about.

“Well, so is mine.” I said in a small voice, Mingi’s attractive face turned downwards as his sharp eyes bore into mine, plump lips pulled into the most attractive smirk I had ever seen.

“Good, I think it’s time we give it a refresh, then,” He whispered seductively, leaning just a little closer, “You know, make sure we don’t forget this time, not even the littlest details.”

My mouth went dry and I felt my stomach coil at his suggestion, and all I could do was nod at him speechless, licking my lips as a warm feeling washed over me, going straight to my core. Mingi’s eyes were glinting and he chuckled, kicking the shed’s door open as he walked us inside.

I don’t think there was a single thing I would’ve been able to forget about Song Mingi, even after having lived for an eternity.

≡ Masterlist ≡

809 notes · View notes

s6lars · 9 months

Text

dress.

a harmless prank leaves jamal acting unexpectedly and you're determind to find out why — even if it forces you to get dangerously close. (wc: 7.5k)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jm42 x reader, ft. mathys tel

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. smut — mdni! with a good chunk of plot, jealous brother’s bsf jamal.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, drinking, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering + more

𝐀/𝐍. requested here, thank you for waiting patiently anon !! this is also my first time writing in months, i'm so terribly sorry that i'm rusty and it might not be my greatest work. but i hope you enjoy ! (also this is not proofread lol)

“Fuck!” you groan, examining the plastic bag in your hands.

“What? What’s wrong?” You chew on on your bottom lip, setting the bag on your thighs where you kneeled on the floor. You pick up your phone, flipping the camera so your friend could see on Facetime.

“They sent me the wrong one.”

Nothing destresses you quite as much as online shopping, and with your finals finished a few days ago, you’d gone crazy on the internet — fitting as much as your cart would allow it. The stack of boxes in your room began to pile as the orders came in one by one, and once they all did, you treated yourself to your own version of Christmas.

“Which one did you get originally?” your friend, Andrea, asks. You’ve been giving her an unboxing of everything you’d bought for yourself, opening packages on your bedroom floor with your speaker blasting Drake in the back.

“I ordered this in green, they gave it to me in black.”

“Oh. Well, at least it’s the same dress right?” Andrea takes a bite out of the donut she’s eating. “I still think it looks nice.” “Yeah, me too. But I already have, like, 3 other black dresses,” you sigh.

“I think you should still try it on.” “You think?” “Yeah, why not? It’s just in a different color anyway.” Andrea’s right. You’re not really in the mood to go through the hassle of online returns and back-and-forth conversations with the seller.

You leave your phone on your bedroom floor to get changed off-camera, standing in front of your mirror. The dress feels promising as you pull it out of the bag — it’s strapless, jet black in color with a few cutouts on the side joined by metal rings, exposing your sides. It feels smooth as you slide it on, the stretchy material hugging your curves and the hem stopping on your mid thighs.

“So…” You pick up your phone, showing the dress off to Andrea. “How does it look?”

Andrea gasps in awe, making you giggle at her reaction. “Oh my god, I think I’m liking this one the most so far,” she raves, and you look to the pile of the other dresses you’d bought on your floor.

You adjust the dress, smoothing it out, pulling the hem lower. The dress is gorgeous, hugging you in all the right places. You check yourself out in the mirror, feeling more confident the longer you have it on.

“This is so nice, actually. Who even cares about the color anymore, I’m obsessed,” you gush.

“Mhm. And you can wear it with that purse you bought, and with the gold jewelry as well,” Andrea suggests, and you hum in agreement. As she’s talking, you reach for your water bottle on your nightstand, disappointed when you realize it’s empty. “Hey, I’m gonna fill up my water, give me a sec,” you state, muting yourself and tossing your phone on your bed.

You waltz in the kitchen, bringing your speaker with you, taking advantage of the fact that you’re home alone. You incoherently hum along to SZA, waiting for your bottle to be filled — and a loud noise erupts from behind where you stood.

“BOO!”

You shriek, body jolting forward, causing some of the water to spill on your dress and your speaker to almost fall loose from your grip.

“What the fu— Oh my god, J.” You’re met with familiar brown eyes as you turned around, seeing Jamal with his hands flat on the kitchen island where he’d slammed them. He giggles at your annoyance.

To most, Jamal is Bayern’s starboy, a young player dazzling in the world of football. To you, he’s your brother’s best friend, and someone who shows up unannounced to your house a lot. Your older brother Noah works in the industry as an agent, and the two of them met many years ago as teenagers. Now, they’re close as ever — so close, that Noah trusts him enough to give him a spare keycard to your shared apartment.

You met Jamal not long after they hit it off, and you can safely say you’ve also become friends with him now.

Just friends. That’s all you’ll ever be.

Like Noah has stressed multiple times before.

You grab a towel, dabbing the wet spot on your dress. “What do you want, J?”

“Is Noah home?” “No. He went to the gym,” you respond, groaning, making sure your dissatisfaction is heard loud and clear. Once you do, you turn off the obnoxiously loud speaker that prevented you from hearing his entrance.

“Without me?”

“Yeah, he needed the time alone, clearly,” you snap back, circling around the kitchen island to face him. As you do, Jamal’s eyes trail down your body, your dress now revealed, his face twisting in a mix of confusion and awe.

“Bit early for a night out, no?” He says, clearly referencing to your dress. He’d be right, it’s only the early evening.

You look down at your dress before meeting his eyes again, seeing him shift uncomfortably. “Who said this was for a night out?”

He cocks his head to the side. “It’s not?”

The devil on your shoulder is telling you to get back at him for almost ruining your dress and breaking your speaker. If he can show up unannounced, why can’t you lie and pull a few strings? “No… it’s for a date.”

You lie straight through your teeth, making up a story as you go. Jamal’s jaw falls slack, like he’s about to say something, but then it closes before he does.

“A… date?” He heard you the first time. He just wants to know if you’re being serious.

And you keep pretending that you are. “Yeah, a date. Why’s that so shocking?” You fold your arms, leaning against the kitchen island.

Jamal pauses. “With who?” While you’re biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing, he’s having none of it. His eyebrows are furrowed, his jaw tense as he questions you.

“With this guy from uni. He’s just so sweet,” you sigh dreamily for dramatic effect, dragging the gimmick as long as you could. “We’ve been talking for a while and now he wants to get serious.” “Serious?”

“...Yeah. I really think we could be a thing.” Your face falters at Jamal’s deadpan response. You’re only joking with him, but even if you weren’t, why is the mention of a date getting him like this?

You succesfully pulled his strings— but you don’t know if you should be happy or not. Jamal looks at you, almost in offense, and you can practically see the steam coming off of his ears. You’ve known him for a while, and yet this is the first you’ve seen of him like this.

“Tell Noah I’m not hanging out today.” Jamal storms out the kitchen, your mouth falling agape at his reaction. You trail behind him, worried that you took it too far.

“What? No, Jamal wait—” He doesn’t spare a single glance as he marches out the door, slamming it in your face, sending the hinges rattling. You’re frozen in your spot, unable to move or even process what just happened for a few moments before you’re dragging yourself back to your room, still slightly shaken.

You grab your phone and unmute yourself, still seeing Andrea on the line.

“Hey.”

“Hey, what took you so long?” She notices the startled look in your eyes, sitting up in her bed.

“Sorry. Jamal … came over earlier. It was weird,” you say, slumping against your headboard.

“Weird? Isn’t he your friend? Or a friend of your brother?”

“Yeah, but… well, I—” you exhale, taking the time to string your words properly. “I was joking around, but then he got really upset and stormed out,” you explain.

“What the hell?” “I know. I’ve never seen him that pissed off. Not because of me at least.”

“That’s so weird. All over a joke?” “Yeah.” “What a prick,” Andrea sneers.

“No, don’t say that.” You’re not sure why, but you don’t really want to tell Andrea that the joke in question involved you lying about going on a date. “Hey, I gotta go. Bye.”

You abruptly end the call carelessly tossing your phone aside. Now that you’re alone, you stare at the ceiling, finally having the time to process the interaction. The mood has shifted now. An inkling creeps into your thoughts as to why Jamal got so defensive, but you shrug it off, terrified of its consequences, terrified it would manifest.

“It’s probably nothing,” you mumble to yourself. But is it? You’re tossing and turning in bed because something is telling you that it’s not just nothing, and you have to find out for yourself.

You have to talk to Jamal.

“You’re up early.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turn around to see Noah splayed on the living room couch, working on his laptop.

You take a sip from your mug, setting it down on the coffee table before replying. “And you’re home for once.”

Noah gets exceptionally busy during the transfer window. You’ve been getting used to spending weeks home alone, or only catching him in the early mornings or coming in late at night, but almost never when the sun was out. Part of you thinks it’s not just work that’s been holding up, though.

“You know how busy I get in January,” Noah says. He squints as he watches you sit adjacent to him, putting on your socks and shoes. “And where are you headed?”

You pause. “Just going on a walk.”

Noah doesn’t need to know that the walk in question is en route to Jamal’s house.

Last night, you went to bed uneasy, hoping you could sleep it off. You woke up this morning and nothing had changed, and that’s when you decided you had to talk to Jamal immediately or you’d explode by midday. Noah being home wasn’t part of your plans.

He’s always been a little protective, as all older brothers are to their sisters. You vividly recall when you first met Jamal at one of his infamous house parties— alone in the kitchen, getting drinks for your friends when he strolled in, starting a conversation. It was an instant connection, with you finding yourself taking your sweet time just to keep talking to him.

Of course, Noah barged in at one point, throwing his arm around you and escorting you out of the kitchen himself, not before interrogating you on your conversation with Jamal.

Although he’s loosened up since, you know Noah would start getting skeptical if you told him you were headed to Jamal’s place first thing in the morning. But what Noah doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Right, bye.” Just as you stand up to leave, Noah interrupts.

“Wait! Can you get some sandwiches from the café when you come back? Thanks!”

“As long as you pay me back!” you chime, already halfway out the door.

The walk to Jamal’s place is a rare but not unfamiliar one. You live not too far away, and there have been countless times where you had to pick Noah up after a night out, so you knew the way well. You could’ve taken your car, but you decided you need the extra time for yourself, deciding on a walk.

You’re not really sure what you’re getting out of this. Your mind fluctuates between feeling like this is the right thing to do and the urge to turn back and buy those sandwiches Noah was talking about earlier.

But you never do, and now you’re standing in front of his doorway.

Unlike with your house, Jamal’s never given you a spare set of keys so you can waltz into his at any given moment. You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, your heart beating out of your chest as you do.

Silence. You ring the doorbell a few more times, hearing the soft pattering of footsteps behind the door.

You fix your hair and adjust your clothes, awaiting Jamal’s arrival.

Instead, you’re met with the sight of a woman when the door swings open.

A half-naked woman.

She looks slightly older than you, dressed in only a sports bra and sweats, her hair tussled like she just woke up. You’re both looking at each other up and down, confused. This is the first you two have seen of each other.

“Can I help you?” She’s the first to break the silence. You reluctantly meet her gaze. There’s a weird territorial atmosphere lingering between you two, like the person standing before you shouldn’t be here.

“Uh, I’m looking for Jamal,” you say, your voice coming out a lot shakier than you anticipated. A pit continues to grow in your stomach. You probably should have turned back home when you had the chance.

“Oh, he’s in the shower.”

Your heart drops. You’re not an idiot, and you’re no child— you can put two and two together. Neither is Jamal, and you know he probably hooks up with someone whenever he gets the chance. But why does that bother you so much? And why are you only feeling this way now?

You’re lost in your thoughts, and the woman waves a hand in front of your face, trying to pull you back to reality.. “Did you need anything? He’ll probably take a while.”

You shake your head, already getting ready to take off. “Just tell him I was joking yesterday.”

“Huh?” Turning around on your heels, you leave the woman hanging, walking away from the door. Whatever you were expecting to happen when you got to Jamal’s place, it surely isn’t this.

You glare straight ahead, not caring for whoever you bumped into. All you knew was just in that moment, you had to get as far away as possible from Jamal’s house. And so you did, marching as far as your legs would take you, until beads of sweat ran down your temples and your breathing turned heavy.

Maybe Noah was right in trying to put some distance between you two.

Meanwhile, Jamal dries himself off with a towel as he leaves his bathroom. He walks into the kitchen to grab some breakfast, passing by his front door, seeing the girl he picked up last night standing by.

She hears his footsteps as he comes down the stairs, turning to face him. “Morning, baby,” she coos, putting on the best lovey-dovey voice she could muster.

Jamal winces at the remark. “I’ll get you a taxi after you shower,” he replies, walking right past her and into the kitchen. The girl rolls her eyes, groaning silently. She doesn’t know why she keeps trying to get closer to him when all they’re doing this for is sex.

“Some girl came over while you were in the shower, by the way,” she brazenly states, hoping to get his attention for once.

“Who?” “Like I know. She just came by and asked if you were here, and then told me to tell you that she was just joking yesterday?”

It works. Jamal stops dead in his tracks. “And what did she look like?” The girl starts describing how you looked from the short appearance you made earlier. The more she speaks, she sees the gears turning in Jamal’s head as he puts two and two together, ultimately realizing that you had gone all the way to his house just to talk to him.

He looks at the girl before him. She came all the way to his house, probably to apologize, just to be met with one of his random hookups who he barely even spoke to outside his bedroom.

Jamal’s eyes widen in realization at how horribly he’d fucked up, abandoning his breakfast and rushing back up the stairs.

“Where are you going? Who is she?” The girl asks, waving her hand to get his attention, though all her calls are ignored as he shoves his way into his room to go looking for his phone, unplugging it from where it was charging on his nightstand.

His fingers rapidly dart across the screen as he types out a message, a desperate attempt at reaching you before it was too late.

[07:42] jamal: did you come over earlier? [07:43] jamal: i promise it’s not what it looks like [07:43] jamal: we can talk if you want to [07:43] jamal: just the two of us

Your phone buzzes four seperate times as you stand in line at the café down the street from your apartment building. Sometime during your walk, Noah had transferred some money into your account for both breakfast and you figured you needed the distraction.

It didn’t last long as you pulled your phone from your pocket, seeing the notifications from Jamal poured in. You shut your eyes, collecting your emotions before you shoved it back in, fixing your hair in frustration.

Out of sight, out of mind. Jamal got his chance when you were at his doorstep, willing, and he you weren’t about to give him a second. The fact that he thinks you would sets something off in you.

He watches as his texts stay on delivered. Deep down, he knows you read them through your lockscreen, and now you were choosing to deliberately ignore him. He stares at the screen in defeat, before another text comes in.

[08:01] noah: you’re coming over tomorrow night yeah?

The party. Noah had invited him and some other players to hang out before the season started, a tradition that’s persisted in the friend group for years. It’s hosted at his place this time around, a golden oppportunity.

Jamal has to talk to you.

For the first time in his life, Jamal regrets going to a party.

He’s used to having a blast, used to being the man in any room he walks into, instantly greeted by faces both familiar and unfamiliar, desperate to show him around— desperate to be seen with him.

Now, he throws his head back agains the wall of Noah’s living room, drink in hand, asking himself why he even left the house today.

Jamal arrived extra early to his friend’s place, hoping to catch you in a moment alone before it got busy. To his dismay, Noah informed him that you’d been out since the morning. Then he had to help him clean. A total nightmare.

He’s not so sure if you knew he was coming today, or just so happened to not be at home. Whatever the reasoning, he’d rather not have turned up altogether had you not been here.

While he’s drinking away his sorrows, you’re pushing him out of your mind as you spent the day with your friends. Shopping, going to the spa, more shopping, bar hopping— it was a perfect day.

Your smile quickly faded when you came home and was greeted with a crowd of men in your living room.

“Hey! You’re home,” Noah greets, pulling you into a hug. He gives you a look of guilt as he sees your eyes squint in confusion, knowing he didn’t tell you he was inviting people over.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I figured you’d be out the whole day!” he reasons.

“You’re so fucking annoying, I hope you know that,” you sneer, and Noah can’t fight back. You scan the crowd, seeing a few familiar faces. If it wasn’t for them, you would have cussed him out right then and there.

He knows you’re tired from going out all day, he knows you just want to rest. “Okay, listen, this isn’t anything crazy, we’re just gonna drink and talk, no loud music or inviting more people. It’s just my friends.”

Friends. You scan the crowd once more. If Noah ever mentions anything about friends, one person is almost always involved.

Jamal. You lock eyes with him, he’s been staring at you from across the room since you walked in the door. There’s a mix of anger, frustration and yearning brewing in your chest. You want to shove him down a flight of stairs. You also want to run into his arms. It’s complicated.

Noah shoves a can of beer in your hands, and you finally look away from Jamal. “Here, take this. Loosen up,” he says before leaving. You sip away your unwanted emotions and wince like it stings going down.

Knowing Jamal is here and with the intention of talking to you sparks an idea in your brain, washing a boost of confidence over your body. He can’t look away from you and you know it, and you had to take this chance in sending him a message.

Your message comes in the form of a youngster sitting on the living room couch.

“Mathys!” You approach him, arms wide to pull him in for a hug that seems a little too friendly in Jamal’s eyes. He grips his glass harder.

“Hey! When did you come in?” he asks, and you sit next to him, grazing your thigh against his. You take a big swig from the can, needing the extra tenacity.

“Not too long ago.” You start talking to Mathys about your day, striking up a normal conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch glimpses of Jamal glancing at you from time to time. It’s not enough. You want him to feel the way you did when you showed up on his doorstep the other day.

Mathys was happily recounting his encounter with some rapper he’d crossed paths with when you put your hand on his leg, rubbing his thigh up and down. You leaned in to his ear, covering your mouth to avoid Jamal from reading your lips. He jumps slightly at the motion, you’re never this close to him.

“Can I tell you something?” He nods, scared but intrigued.

“I’m trying to piss Jamal off. Will you help me?” Similarly to Jamal, you and Mathys have always been close friends. He’s younger than you, so you’ve always viewed him like a little brother more than anything, but that’s not to say you don’t appreciate his company. You knew he would definitely be down to help you tonight.

Mathys pulls away, searching deep in your eyes for certainty. He discovers you’re serious.

A smirk plays on his face as he nods slowly to himself. He’s not stupid, he quickly pieces things together. If he’s being honest, he’s always known something was going on between you and Jamal anyway. “Alright, alright. Deal.” “Deal, yeah? If anything I do gets too far, just tell me,” you assure.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be worth it in the end. Do what you must,” he says, winking.

It didn’t take long for the ball to start rolling. It starts off innocent — you laugh just a little too loud at one of his jokes, planting your palm on his chest as you do, playing with your hair. The small gesture has Jamal shifting uncomfortably where he stood.

It wasn’t enough.

You pull out your phone, asking Mathys if he wants a picture. He extends one arm behind you on the couch, leaning into you. Wrapping his shoulders with your free arm, you pushed your heads together, scooting closer to him, to the point where your legs were folded over his thighs. Jamal knows what you’re doing now, and it’s driving him to insanity. Yet, he stands there, unmoving.

It wasn’t enough.

The final straw came from Mathys. You tipped your drink as far back as you could, trying to get the last few sips from the can. A few stray drops landed on the corner of your mouth instead, dribbling down your chin as you raised your hand below it to make it stop.

He reaches over to catch the beer with his thumb, cupping your face, gently swiping your lips.

Jamal storms out of the living room.

Mathys takes his hand off of you immediately afterwards, and you two share a laugh, feeling achieved. “Well, he’s really pissed now,” he remarks.

“Good.”

He glances at you in curiousity at your deadpan, sly response. He had fun doing this whole tidbit with you, but he doesn’t even know why you’re doing it in the first place. “What’d he even do to you for you to do this?”

“Long story,” you say it in a way that lets him know you’re not going to go into further detail. You stand up from the couch, bag in hand. “I’ll be in my room. Thanks Mathys, that was fun.” He winks at you, clicking his tongue in response.

You made the walk to you room with your head held high in victory. The message you were delivering was definitely heard by Jamal, loud and clear. He’s not the only one that gets to mess around with whoever he wants.

You kick your heels off, throwing your bag on the floor and plopping down on the bed, scrolling on your phone. Tossing and turning, you ended up curled with your back facing the door, and that’s when it barges open.

“Hey.” You turn around, it’s Noah. You go back to scrolling on your phone.

“What do you want?” “I’m not gonna be at home tonight, yeah? Most of the guys already left anyway. Just wanted to let you know,” he says, rambling. “It’s just, work stuff…” You roll your eyes. Noah’s always been bad at keeping secrets, especially when it involves girls.

“Yes Noah, I’ll be fine alone while you go spend the night with that girl you met in Berlin. We all know you like her.” You don’t even have to look at Noah to know his mouth had fallen slack, the words being ripped from his throat.

“Man. That bad, huh?” Noah chuckles. “Alright, I’m leaving. Bye,” he says, shutting the door behind him.

A few minutes pass as you lied there unmoving. still scrolling through your feed when the door opens a second time. You hear the hinge creak open and the click of the knob as the person enters your room without saying a word.

You sit up straight, looking behind you. “Mathys? Is that y—” It’s Jamal. Daggers shoot from his eyes, watching you roll your eyes and go back to using your phone.

“What do you want, Jamal?” you groan. The fact that you’re not calling him by his usual nickname, not bothering to even spare a glance has his face contorting.

“Since when have you and Mathys been that close?” His voice is deep, interrogative, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t tense up at his tone, chills arising through your body.

You build up the courage to face him properly, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Why should I tell you about the people I’m hanging out with?”

“Hanging out?” he spits in disbelief, vitriol laced in his words.

“Yeah! Hanging out, Jamal, what’s so wrong about that? Huh?” you exclaim. You can’t believe the sheer hypocrisy in his words. “You’re one to judge, at least I was only talking to Mathys anyway.” “He had his hand around your neck and he was just gawking at your body the whole time, don’t act stupid!” he snaps back, raising his hands and dropping them to his sides.

You jump onto your feet. “At least I don’t go around fucking other girls as soon as one of them stops giving me attention!” Jamal’s eyes widen, offended. You both know what you were referring to.

“You told me you were going on a date with someone! You said he was the one — how the fuck was I supposed to know you were joking?!” He takes a few steps closer.

You struggle to find the right response, your mouth periodically opening and closing. He’s got a point. You hate that he does. “You didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself! You just stormed out of the house!”

“Yeah, of course! After hearing you say that, of course I did!” “Why?!” you ask, watching his eyes go wide, his mouth shut, unable (or maybe not wanting) to respond. “Tell me why.” Now it’s you who takes a step closer, and Jamal’s at arms length, causing you to look up at him as you speak.

He says nothing back.

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s what I thought,” you mumble. You move past him, lightly bumping your shoulders together as you do to convey your anger. You need to get a drink from the kitchen, and hopefully by the time you come back, Jamal will be gone.

Just as your fingers graze the doorknob, a strong grip gets a hold of your arm. It all happened so fast. One second you were facing the door, the next — your back hit the wall, and Jamal’s lips were on yours.

The kiss was hungry, one of Jamal’s hands on the back of your head, tilting it to kiss you deeper, the other on your waist. Your arms naturally wrapped around his neck, scratching the back of his head, pulling him closer.

One of Jamal’s knees slipped between your legs, rubbing against your crotch. A breathy moan escaped your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. It was a messy, desperate kiss — a clash of teeth and tongue, Jamal making up with his lips what he can’t with his voice.

Jamal runs his hands up and down your dress. Your dress — it’s the same one you wore a few days ago, when you first got into the argument. It’s driving him crazy and you know it, it’s evident in the way he trails his mouth lower to your neck and down to your exposed cleavage.

“Jl,” you whine, teetering on a plea. He presses his forehead against yours, watching your eyes trained on him, your lipstick smeared and loose strands flying from your hair. He don’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.

“This dress looks so good on you.” It’s all he can say before he’s kissing you again, a lot softer this time around.

“Mhm. Wore it just for you,” you breathe in between kisses. “Now take it off, please.” Your voice, your words, they rush straight to his cock.

“Jump,” he instructs, and you do. Jamal walks over to your bed, plopping you on the soft pillows, his lips moulding against yours the whole time. He presses kisses lower on your neck, sucking, biting, being sure to leave a trail of purple marks for to blossom tomorrow morning.

Jamal takes the cut of your dress in his hands, pulling the fabric down, groaning at the sight of you without a bra. He wastes no time in swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud, causing you to throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sucks and pulls with his teeth, moulding the other with his hands before switching, grinding down on your clothed core.

Once he’s satisified, he takes one last look at your tits — now glossy with his spit and marked purple, before climbing lower down your body. He bunches the material of your dress up your waist, exposing your panties to him.

Jamal takes hold of your legs, pressing a kiss to your crotch, smirking when your back arches, whining at the contact.

“Fuck, don’t tease, please.” Your hand pushes his head closer to where you’re dripping, where you want him the most.

Jamal chuckles at your desperation, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them carelessly aside. He spreads your lips, cursing under his breath when he sees the string of wetness that’s accumulated.

“You’re soaked,” he says, planting delicate kisses to the inside of your thighs, intently watching how you jolt at each one.

“Jamal, please.” He loves it when you beg.

“Shh, I know, baby.” And he finally licks one long strip up your pussy, relishing in the way a moan is punched from your lips. You’re lucky your brother is out for the night, because he’s certain it can be heard through the walls.

He plants a few more kisses before spreading your lips, delving his tongue in your hole. Your thighs clamp shut around his head, but his strength pries them open. He alternates between fucking you with his tongue and sucking your clit, swirling figure-eights on it.

You’re a writhing mess, your throat dry from moaning and calling his name over and over. Jamal never wants to stop hearing the pretty noises you make.

He continues to push his tongue in your cunt, using his thumb to circle your clit, doubling the pleasure. He explores your walls, finding the spongy spot that punches a particularly loud moan from your throat.

“Fuck! Don’t—ah—don’t stop,” you beg, and Jamal is happy to oblige. He moans into your pussy, the vibrations rushing through your body. He feels you get wetter by the second, your juices coating his mouth and running down the sheets.

Your breathing is short and erratic, your fingers tugging at his hair as your orgasm washes over you, cumming all over Jamal’s mouth. He licks the slick running down your inner thighs, pressing some final few kisses to your clit before hovering over you, meeting your eyes.

The sight of Jamal above you is nothing short of glorious — his chin glossy from your juices, his eyes blown out and his lips plump and swollen. He can say the same for you below him, once snappy and sarcastic now panting and ruined.

You cup his cheek, adorlingly gazing into his eyes before tasting yourself on his tongue. He takes your wrists, one by one, pinning them above your head with one hand.

“Need to make sure you can take me, baby,” he coos. “Is that okay?” You nod rapidly. You’d say yes to anything if he asked.

Jamal chuckles, his free hand trailing lower down your body and finding your clit. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, bucking up into his hand when he does.

“J—oh.” He slips a finger into your cunt, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw falls agape as you do. He pumps slowly at first, feeling your pinned hands try to escape his grip, but he pushes them down harder.

After a few moments, he slips another one in, filling you with two digits. “Shit,” you whine, closing your eyes shut.

“You can take it, yeah?” he asks.

“Mhm, I can take more, a lot more.” Jamal feels his cock throb in his pants, desperate to be freed. He picks up the pace, and you squirm beneath him, taking your bottom lip in your teeth.

Jamal pushes deeper, curling his fingers inside your walls. Every time he fucks into you, his palm rubs against your clit, only adding to the pleasure. Once he finds your sweet spot, he relentlessly goes faster, chasing your second orgasm.

“Oh my god, fuck,” you blabber, unable to focus on anything else than the feeling of Jamal’s fingers.

“Hey, look at me,” he instructs, and eyes shoot open on instinct, seeing his brown eyes bore into yours.

“Want to see how you look when you cum.”

You struggle in keeping your eyes open but do so to the best of your ability, your chest heaving up and down as your moans get more sporadic. Jamal is lost in your eyes, his wrist starting to tire from his movements. After one rough push of his hands, shockwaves rippling through your body as your second orgasm washes over you.

Slick runs down your thighs, onto the bedsheets and on Jamal’s wrist. He pulls out, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact before he licks them clean, tasting every last drop. Jamal sits up on his heels and you follow suit, kneeling in front of him. You grab the hem of his shirt, quickly pushing it up and over his head, exposing his torso. You’re entranced by his physique, trailing your nails down his chest and abs. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you into a kiss.

“Fuck me, J,” you plead in between kisses, and how could he say no?

“Get on all fours.” You flip over, arching your back, hanging your ass in the air for him. You hear the clink of his belt as he pulls down his trousers, watching from over your shoulder.

“I told you to take my dress off,” you remind him, lightening the mood a bit. You have to stifle back a moan as he spreads your ass, pulling you flush against the shape of his bulge, lowly moaning when he does.

Jamal pauses for a moment. “Nah.” He pulls his boxers down, taking his cock in his hands, hard and throbbing, jerking himself off before aligning the tip with your pussy.

“Wanna fuck you in it.”

He slides his cock up and down your slit before pushing into you in one long stroke. A long moan is drawn from your throat as your head drops, feeling him slowly stretch you out, stopping until his pelvis was flush with your ass.

It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, hearing Jamal whisper soft praises as he grips your hips, rolling his slowly to help. Once you do, he pulls back out, only living the tip in your cunt, before slamming back in and finding a rhythm.

“Shit,” you spit through a mix of moans and curses, feeling him push into you over, and over, and over. After a particulary rough snap of his hips, your elbows give out under you, causing you to bury your face in the sheets, arching your back harder.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” You hear Jamal breathe from behind you. His eyes are trained on where you’re taking him raw, seeing the glossy sheen coat his shaft, glowing underneath your bedroom lights.

His hands are rough where he gropes, alternating between bunching your dress up higher, spreading your ass and gripping your hips, slamming you against him harder.

Jamal pulls you up to his chest, one hand loosely hanging around your neck. You can barely process the change of position until you feel his bare chest flush against your back.

His lips curl into a smirk, watching your mouth slightly open, the filthiest of sounds pouring out into his ears, spit welling in its corners. Your eyes struggle to stay open, your head lulling on his shoulder.

“Don’t—ah—don’t stop, please,” you blabber, drunk on his hips snapping up into you.

Jamal plants a featherlight kiss on your temple. “Never.” He plants another. “So good, so good for me.”

He moulds his lips against yours, a messy clash of teeth and tongue. You struggle to kiss back, only whining into his mouth.

The knot in your stomach grows tighter by the second, your moans getting increasingly higher pitched by the second, your face contorting in pleasure. You’re close, Jamal knows it too.

“I’m close, fuck.” You reach out to him behind you, trying to lock him in place so he doesn’t stop. Not like he was planning on it, anyway.

Jamal twitches inside you, and you know he’s close too. His thrusts get sloppier, more sporadic, chasing your high before his own. “Cum for me, go on,” he coos, lips ghosting over your earlobe.

He reaches around your torso, his fingers finding your clit, circling figure-eights. It’s all it takes for your orgasm to wash over you in waves, sending your thighs shaking. Jamal doesn’t stop, he fucks you through it all, pressing kisses on your neck and shoulder, fingers still trained between your thighs. Jamal pulls out, causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of being empty. You’re spent, chest heaving and sticky with sweat, but you still find the energy to turn around, facing him. He’s jerking himself off in his hands, his cock red and throbbing, begging for a release.

You look up at him with mischievous eyes, his own watching your every move. You pull your dress up and over your head, leaving yourself bare in front of him, sitting on your heels.

Jamal kneels high above you, groaning when he watches you push your tits together, inviting him closer. His head tips back when you stick your tongue out, kitten licking the tip of his cock, tasting the precum dripping from its head.

Strings of white liquid are painted across your chest as Jamal cums, shuddering. You feel some hit your chin, darting your tongue to get a taste, never breaking eye contact.

He cups your chin, pressing his lips onto yours, leaving chaste kisses. You both stay like that for a while, lazily making out, smiling against each other’s lips.

Jamal plants one final kiss before pulling away. “Stay here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He walks in your bathroom, leaving with a towel and a water bottle he’d found somewhere not long after.

You let him gently swipe the towel against your chest, his hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your skin. While you two sat in silence, it wasn’t an awkward one, far from it. It was comforting. It felt familiar, this domesticity. It felt natural.

You don’t say anything when he pulls you to lay on his chest. You don’t say anything when he pulls the blanket over you two, turning off the lights. You just focus on his heartbeat.

A throbbing headache has been your alarm these past few mornings, and today is no different.

The sunlight spills through the cracks in your curtains, bleeding through your shut eyelids. You slowly ease into consciousness, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

The first thing that hits you is the cold. A shiver runs through your body, instinctively pulling the blanket closer to you.

The second thing that hits you is your lack of clothes. You blink away the drowsiness, examining yourself, completely bare. Peculiar, but not unfamiliar.

The third thing that hits you is the weight on the opposite side of your bed when you yank the comforter. Your eyes widen at the sight of an undressed Jamal, blanket only covering so much, stirring awake next to you. His toned abs in full display, glowing golden in the sunlight.

It doesn’t take long for your brain to floor your memories of recollections from last night. You wince, face scrunching in disbelief as the images flashed in your head one by one. What were you thinking?

You bend down to grab the first article of clothing you could find — Jamal’s shirt. Not ideal but it’ll do. You put it on to cover yourself, standing up with the plan of getting as far away from him as possible.

A strong grip on your arm stops your plans.

Jamal calls your name, voice gruff and thick with the early morning. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the sound.

“Where are you headed?” he asks, adoringly.

No. This is wrong. You can’t think of him that way, someone who’s supposed to be irrevocably off-limits — so you get right to the point.

“Jamal.” His eyebrows furrow at the sound of you calling his full name. You’re never in a good mood when you do. “This, this cant… we can’t…” You watch him look up at you like he was expecting this from a mile away.

With one pull, he tugs you back in bed, causing you to sit on his lap, albeit not fully. You don’t want to run away from him, deep down you know you don’t, and he knows that too.

“Why? You scared of Noah?”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“This isn’t even, I mean, we’re not even…” you struggle to string the right words together.

Jamal cups your cheek and you melt into his touch. Your words say one thing but your body suggests another.

“I like you, I really do. I know I didn’t get the chance to say it last night,” he assures. You feel your cheeks heat at the sudden confession. “I don’t want to see you with someone else. I don’t want to act like I’m perfectly fine when you bring up some other guy.” You look deep into his eyes with a look that says, me too. After last night you knew you and Jamal would never be the same, for better or for worse. You pick the former.

“And especially not Mathys, Jesus.” You chuckle, finally lightening up. “Out of all the people you wanted to use to make me jealous, you chose him. Blegh.”

The giggles leaving your chest are unabashed the second time around. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, and it sucked.” Jamal’s palm lets go of your face, dropping down to take your hand in his. He resumes to his original point. “I want this, okay? I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to see you in my shirt every day,” he says while fumbling with the hem of his shirt hanging off your frame.

“I want you.”

You wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in closer, this time properly sitting on his lap. “Never took you for such a romantic, J.”

He stifles in a laugh, pressing his forehead against yours before closing the gap. You’re finally his.

#@s6lars #@s6lars: jm42 #football x reader #football imagines #football x you #football x y/n #football smut #jamal musiala x reader #jamal musiala imagines #jamal musiala headcanons #jamal musiala drabbles #jamal musiala fluff #jamal musiala smut #jamal musiala one shot #jamal musiala blurb

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vaaaaaiolet · 2 months

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It's the RPD's annual Secret Santa, and Leon's at his wit's end finding the perfect gift for his work crush. No competition, of course, except for the part where you make him promise not to bring something lame. Leon's got a week. He can do this. Right?

gn / m, fluff, romance, humor, leon is a SWEETHEART, you guys work at the RPD but you're leon's senior and also love reading??, no outbreak, inspired by the teapot episode of The Office lol, tw: claustrophobia

word count: 1.5k // read on ao3

a/n: vivi try not to mention christmas challenge go!!! @k1ssaphobe this one's for you <3 literally the ugliest effing banner i've ever made i'm SO SORRY but this completely destroyed my writer's block. i had so much fun <3

It’s all been downhill since Leon plucked your name out of a glass jar last week. Shit. Multiply that times three, rain down a couple red and green sprinkles for holiday spirit, and you have a great representation of how prepared Leon feels about being assigned the most crippling crush he’s had since high school for the RPD’s annual Secret Santa: you.

Shit, indeed.

His hands shake like tremolo as he rereads your name printed on his little slip of paper, and Leon decides right then and there that the best way to go about this is to not go about it at all. Plain and simple.

“Aren’t you excited?” you gush after your turn to draw from the jar. Poor you, you’d taken his jittery hands as enthusiasm.

Leon grins tightly. “For sure, yeah, I um… I love Christmas. Really excited. You get who you wanted?”

“Hey, no cheating. Not even with me, rookie.” You scrunch your face, clutching your paper to your chest. “Secret Santa’s secret. But it’s no secret that you’ve got to give it your all, so no lousy gifts allowed, got it?”

Well, there’s that plan gone. It’s back to police academy basics: Keep It Simple, Stupid.

There’s nothing to overthink about making a good impression as the newest RPD recruit, Leon gaslights himself while haunting the Target holiday aisle on Monday night. You routinely save him from Irons’ infamous wrath, so it’s only natural that Leon spends all of Tuesday in a stupor at his desk, definitely not thinking of how he could never pay you back the favor with a silly Secret Santa gift.

Wednesday rolls by and his coffee from yesterday sits in the break room, cold and overstirred next to today’s breakfast crumbs. How many times has Leon watched you sip tea at your desk? Five, six?

Your eyes sparkle over the rim of your cup when he asks you about your weekend. Really, he doesn’t get the hate for small talk. There’s nothing small about the smile that bunches up your cheeks when he cracks a stupid joke about the weather, and more often than not, Leon finds himself waterboarding his notes app with the names of all the novels you drop mid-conversation so he can binge their Sparknotes over the weekend. So it goes, according to Kurt Vonnegut.

Ugh, he should have paid more attention in English. What the hell is an allegory anyway? Leon spends all of Thursday browsing your Goodreads profile and wracking his head over the hefty price tags attached to your TBR list. His wallet makes for a terrible wingman.

But really, finding the perfect gift is no sweat at all. Leon is absolutely nonplussed (according to his 50th vocabulary-related Google search) when he steps into the RPD elevator on Friday morning with a clumsily wrapped, candy cane-striped bundle in his arms.

“Hold it plea- Leon!”

Liar, liar, pants on fire – he’s totally shitting his pants when you barely make it inside before the doors snap shut.

“Thanks,” you gasp.

Leon nods stiffly, his cheeks growing warm, and jams the second-floor button with his knuckle.

As the elevator starts its maddeningly slow climb, you hum, rocking back and forth in your snow boots. You’re cradling a package of your own, something four-cornered and fairly small. Leon, however, feels like he’s holding a bomb, the object of his affections standing less than three feet from his radius of destruction. How are you so carefree right now? You’ve probably got this gifting thing in the bag and he most definitely doesn’t.

Leon can see everything unfold the moment he enters the office. You’ve had your gift planned months beforehand, his gift is going to be horrifically lame when you open it, everyone’s going to clap politely but you’re going to hate him forev-

And then the elevator plunges into pitch black.

“Oh my god!”

Who screamed louder, Leon doesn’t want to find out.

The elevator shudders to a complete stop. Leon’s mental spiral of doom helpfully supplies him with an image of you two dangling in midair, suspended on wires. Maybe this is the universe saving him from delivering the worst Secret Santa gift of his life.

Leon blinks in the darkness, waiting for your unflappable voice to cut through the silence and figure a way out, headstrong as always, except you don’t, and Leon strains his ears to hear what’s surely not what he thinks it is, a whisper that sounds an awful lot like: “Leon, I don’t want to die.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna die,” you whimper. “I don’t wanna die.”

Your voice floats up from a lot lower than he remembers your head being, so he crouches down to find you with your arms hugged to your chest. You’re huddled against the wall, breathing all shallow. The package in your arms lies forgotten somewhere in the abyss.

“Hey, hey, nobody’s dying.” Leon reaches out to find your hand. “What’s the matter?”

“I have, cl-clau-”

“Claustrophobia?” He remembers that one well. Wishes he didn’t.

You nod fitfully.

“The dark doesn’t help either, huh?” he whispers, craning his head to look at the busted bulb on the ceiling. “Damn.”

Your palm grows colder and clammier in his hand by the minute, and the shakiness in your breathing is starting to worry him. Your head pops above your knees when you hear rustling in the shadows, and then the telltale Christmastime cacophony of wrapping paper being torn to shreds.

“What are you…?”

“Being resourceful,” Leon grits, tearing his Secret Santa gift open. He fumbles with its contents for a second, slipping something into a plastic compartment. “It’s not the best, but…”

The elevator blooms with soft, golden light.

“...it’ll do.”

“What’s this?” you murmur in awe, cupping your hands around the tiny book light Leon holds.

“My Secret Santa gift,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I kind of, um, blanked. I’m also really bad at giving gifts, so there’s also this,” he says, pulling out a mug from the heap of trashed wrapping paper.

When I Think About Books, I Touch My Shelf, it announces with impunity.

Leon blushes when you giggle at the inscription. Things always look better online than in person, rookie mistake. But at least you’re breathing better now.

“This is amazing,” you laugh, cradling the cup like there’s warmth inside.

“Not so amazing now that I’ve opened all the packaging.”

“Your Secret Santa won’t mind at all, trust me, not with a gift like this- ‘touch my shelf’, you’re unbelievable! Tell me where you got it.”

He shakes his head.

“Leon Scott Kennedy, if you don’t stop gatekeeping this incredible mug and this super useful book light, by the way, I’m going to tell Irons you spilled coffee all over his desk. I can be very convincing, y’know.” You cross your arms decidedly, waiting.

“There’s no need for all that!” he protests.

“That was a promise, Leon, not a threat.”

“C’mon, be reasonable here.”

“You’re still not telling me.”

“It’s for you, silly.” Leon tilts his head, face heating up faster than the book light bulb, “You’re my Secret Santa.”

He must be hallucinating the pink in your cheeks.

“Oh,” you breathe.

“Yes, oh,” Leon teases, scooching to sit next to you. “I couldn’t think of anything,” he confesses, “so I just went with the basics. I know you read and I know you really miss your old tea mug, the one that broke, right? You’re my gifting competition and I got nervy from how sure you were about your person’s gift. So, um, I played safe.” Leon finishes lamely and squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the light doesn’t also illuminate the shame radiating from his body.

And then he feels the press of an unbelievably soft kiss on his cheek.

“It’s much better than what I’ve got,” he hears.

His eyes fly open. Words don’t form right in his throat when you reach out for the package you dropped when the lights went out. Wrapping paper falls apart neatly in your hands (what don’t you do perfectly?) and you unveil a mini waffle iron, proportioned perfectly for somebody always running late without breakfast. Somebody like Leon.

“You keep missing breakfast and Irons is on my ass about saving you food all the time, so I guess took the practical route too,” you shuffle your feet, bashful all of a sudden. “And um, my gift’s kind of useless if we never make it out. Sorry.”

He fingers the tag in wonder.

Merry Christmas, Leon! There’s a timer so you don’t burn them :) xoxo, your Secret Santa!

You’re so goddamn sweet. You’re perfect and thoughtful and it’s all your fault that Leon didn’t have the faintest clue what to give you. Think, Leon, think. He knows he’s not this stupid. What do you give to somebody who has everything?

A kiss. One that’s all smiles and just as sweet as the way you kiss him back, because screw Secret Santa.

It’s hard to keep secrets when you’re Leon’s favorite one.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fanfiction #resident evil #vaaaaaiolet #ao3 fanfic

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galamalion · 9 months

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𐕣. 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐒

summary. you attempt to enjoy the peaceful snowfall on your own, but aren't these beautiful moments meant to be shared?

⤷ contents. yandere!chrollo lucilfer x fem!reader, yandere themes, imprisonment, unhealthy relationships // wc. 1.6k

⤷ notes. thank you to @ddarker-dreams who inspired me to write something for chrollo, she's written some deplorable things for this man <3 i'm still only writing for one piece, this is something i just really wanted to write!

Snow had been falling for the last hour, painting the city below in a thin sheet of pure white, only the dark speckles of countless heads walking to-and-fro disturbing the peacefulness below. The windowsills and balcony were also beginning to pick up a layer, growing steadily with each tiny flake that joined the pile. A beautiful sight slowly being constructed, irreplaceable and inimitable by mankind.

But what is a beautiful thing, if not to be held and marveled?

You gazed solemnly out the window, fingers splayed against the chilled glass. A similar feeling no doubt to the snow that was just out of reach. God, how long had it been since you’d touched snow? Felt that freezing, yet warming sensation dance across your nerves, sending confusing signals to your brain.

Three years inside a luxury penthouse gave you time to organize your thoughts more poetically.

Well, to say you’d been here for three years would be inaccurate. Two years and five months inside this home. Chrollo must have been anxious for the first seven months he had you, either keeping you by his side or stashing you in rich hotels, if only for a single night.

Perhaps he had become more comfortable, or maybe he was working on a long job, seeing as you’d been here for so long. The fact that you were unsupervised made you lean towards the former, in addition to his unbeatable strength that made resistance futile. But you knew your limits, and slowly you’d been learning Chrollo’s over the course of these three years. Carefully tip-toeing the line between admonishment and punishment; you’d never get the last word but always make a sharp jab, leaving the oh-so generously gifted—and probably stolen—jewelry and makeup untouched, and, perhaps your favorite, ignoring his first call of your name, but always coming on the second.

Pretending to not have heard Chrollo was your favorite pastime after learning that there was little he could do except implore you to open those poor little ears of yours. And it was a joy asking him to repeat himself, enjoying the twinge of annoyance that you could make out in his voice.

However, as was normal in your new life, Chrollo had made himself scarce for an extended period of time. It wasn’t strange, in fact it was a much needed relief of his soul-scathing presence. He was most likely on a job, having found some ancient book or enchanting onyx necklace that he just had to have. Or, more accurately, another rotting memoir of a dead pompous poet that you would have to listen to Chrollo gush about, and another piece of jewelry for you to throw in the box and forget.

Maybe he’d get creative and bring you a fun hat this time.

At the end of the day, Chrollo wasn’t here, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. It was refreshing, not being alert at every waking moment, though that freezing fear had most certainly dulled with time. You had time to read, maybe start on a puzzle before you became too tired—coffee had been upgraded to a privilege in the last month, and something that Chrollo was only allowed to make, leaving you to rely on your own body’s performance to remain awake for longer. But puzzles left a sour taste in your mouth ever since Chrollo exchanged your fun scenic sets for Renaissance paintings.

And so you settled on reading, the only other thing to do in this godforsaken prison. Chrollo never liked it when you called it that, reminding you that ‘prisons didn’t have fresh produce or fireplaces.’ But even a golden cage is a cage, something you’d remind him of. He took away the remote after that spat.

You abandoned your window gazing and skipped over to the imposing bookshelf and the expansive collection of tomes that awaited you. Half were unreadable, written in dead languages you couldn’t begin to comprehend. The other half were plain boring, a collection of classics that Chrollo had most likely stolen over the years. But a handful were bearable, or at least interesting enough to keep you reading. You had offhandedly mentioned to Chrollo that you preferred mysteries, and the very next day a complete vintage series of Sherlock Holmes appeared. You tried to hint at adding more diverse genres, but so far there have been no new additions to the bookshelf.

After peeling the first book from the shelf and giving it a light shake to remove any lingering dust, you fled to the comfort of the window nook. It was a remarkable spot—one you knew Chrollo hated, since he could not sit next to you. You thumbed through the book to the first page, laying eyes upon the old and yellowed paper.

“In the year 1878 I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through the course prescribed for surgeons in the army.”

“Already a far more interesting life,” you muttered, “wish I could be a doctor.”

“Having completed my studies there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out.”

“Oh, to travel the world. How I envy you, Watson,” you sighed, bleakly turning towards the window.

The snow hadn’t quit, continuing to stain the buildings in white, a gorgeous scene to behold. It was not to be enjoyed for long, however, as you caught a despicable glimpse in the reflection behind you.

Walking ever-so slightly closer was your captor, Chrollo Lucilfer, in the flesh. Although he seemed to immediately realize he’d been spotted, ceasing his silent movement before you swiveled your head around to face him.

“Please, don’t let me interrupt your commentary,” he gave an innocent smile, “it’s always a treat to hear your dulcet voice.”

“I’d rather keep my thoughts to myself, thanks,” you spat, sending a glare his way before turning back to your book.

“If you’d like to travel the world, I could certainly take you,” he continued.”

“I’ll pass, Chrollo.”

“What ever happened to our little nicknames, my dove? I seem to recall you had quite the attachment to calling me Mephistopheles,” he noted, resuming his gait towards you.

You rolled your eyes, “I’ve since concluded you rather enjoy being compared to the devil, whereas I am not your dove, nor any bird you refer to me as.”

“I’m terribly sorry, my dear,” he cooed.

“I am not yours.”

“You seem to have forgotten that I have stolen you, therefore you are mine.”

“Ah!” you cried out, “I believe you’re forgetting the special word for stealing another person. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? It’s called kidnapping.”

Chrollo smirked at your words, now leaning against the wall beside you, staring down at your piece of literature.

“Believe me, treasure, I am well aware of the crimes I commit.”

“Feel free to list them,” you turned the page of your book, “I assure you, I’m listening.”

He easily plucked the book from your hand.

“Company is meant to be enjoyed, not tolerated,” he teased, returning it back to its place on the shelf. “Besides, the snow outside is stunning, is it not?”

“Of course,” you sneered. “Here, let me put on my cap and scarf, and then we can go frolic in this wonderful weather!”

“Now, now, there’s no need to get smart with me.”

“I wouldn’t dare dream of it.”

Chrollo went quiet and gave you a look, a sign for you to shut your mouth before you ruined tonight.

“I am more than willing to put on a movie tonight, given that your attitude improves,” he spoke softly, moving back towards you.

There was hidden, unspoken meaning behind his words, something you’d grown to adjust to with your snarky attitude. Behave, or you get nothing.

“...What movie do you have in mind?” you responded, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to cool your soured mood.

“I’ll give you the choice, but I’m feeling partial to a select couple. Perhaps Romeo and Juliett? Or Pride and Prejudice?”

Someone’s in a mood tonight, you thought, folding your arms.

“Pride and Prejudice is fine,” you concluded, not wanting to hear Chrollo wax on about what Shakespeare meant or didn’t mean.

“Wonderful,” he smiled, walking over to the kitchen. “Now, would you like a cup of hot chocolate, my dear? I believe it would be fantastic on such a cold day.”

“That would be nice, thank you,” you answered as politely as you could manage, well aware that a simple ‘sure’ would not be enough to earn you any specialties.

You stood from your window alcove and walked quietly towards the bedroom, attempting to do so casually and without drawing his attention.

But it was impossible to slip anything past Chrollo Lucilfer.

“Dear,” he called out, still focused on his work at the counter.

You wordlessly turned around, staring emptily at the back of his head.

“There should be a dress, a black one, on the far right of your wardrobe,” he instructed, “be a doll and put it on.”

“...Alright.”

A black dress, probably too short to be comfortable in either direction. Chrollo’s favorite pastime, of course, was getting a glimpse of the body you’d refuse to show. But this was Chrollo’s night, not your own. Never your own.

So you’ll put the dress on, just like you’ll watch the movie that Chrollo wanted, right next to him—too close to him—on the sofa. And who knows, maybe you’ll do a puzzle with him at the end of the night.

But wasn't the snow just stunning?

#chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh x reader #mdni

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vixen-tech · 2 months

Note

HIII :333 first requester here....I should get an emoji can i be 🫧 anon :ooo anway here's my req!! the ais with a reader who is just SO DOWN BAD. WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THEM. RUSHES FOR HELP if they crash or something. Just PATHETIC reader.

Stupidly Smitten

Hello you two!! This is one of those requests that I think work well enough to be combined into one post. You are just so extremely, pathetically in love with your Ai <3

Includes: Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Auto (Wall-E), Wheatley (Portal 2)

Hal 9000

Hal was unaware that a person could have so much love in them, let alone for him specifically. It was overwhelming at first, baffling when he realized it was only for him and not for any other crew members.

However he handles it in stride, able to calmly respond to your paragraphs of praise with the gentlest "Thank you, I deeply appreciate your companionship as well." Expertly concealing any signs of fluster as you giggle and kiss his camera lens.

Of your long list of cheesy nicknames, prince or prince charming tends to be a go to. A good match for his ever polite, gentlemanly nature. He reminds you that he was simply designed like that, but grows fond of the name anyway.

He very much appreciates the amount you volunteer around the ship. There is a lot that he can't do without a human crew and he adores the diligence you show in your work and the care with which you handle his ship.

Edgar

You and Edgar make the sappiest little feedback loop. It's an endless cycle of "I love you more." "No, I love you more!". To any outsider it would be exhausting to witness, but it's just how you two get out all your feelings.

He goes crazy for all your terms of endearment. 'Songbird' is a pretty easy match for him, but he loves literally every word that comes out of your mouth. Flipping each and every one back at you.

It's not unusual for you to do the same song and dance around the chores. Generally, he'll already have them done by the time you get home, but when you get the day off you always offer to do them yourself. He rarely lets you.

You've told him the time you often have your lunch break so you can chat over the phone while you eat. You're sure your coworkers are sick of you being such a cartoonishly in love couple, but you don't care. He makes you too happy for that.

Auto

Auto has absolutely no idea how to deal with you. He was not made to interact with many people and certainly not someone so affectionate. He may as well have bluescreened the first time you clumsily tried to hug him.

At first he resigns himself to just... sit still whenever you got in a lovey-dovey mood, letting you gush over him. Definitely not spending the rest of the day thinking about the way you said "See you later starlight!" when you finally let him get back to his job.

Over time he recognizes that he began to anticipate your visits, it's so different to how he's usually treated. He knew you had gotten to him when he went out if his to check up on you the day you missed one of your usual visits.

He usually rejects any help you attempt to offer him, his purpose is to handle the ship just fine all by himself. But after that episode he stops trying to push you away. If you're so happy tagging along, he might as well graciously allow you to do so, ignoring his complicated mess of feelings about you.

Wheatley

Oh the ego boost you give him is downright dangerous. If Wheatley was annoying before, now he is absolutely insufferable. Perfectly matches your energy though, you two cannot shut up about each other.

He makes your boundless affection everyone else's problem. "See, I reckon you're just jealous that you're not in a loving, committed relationship with such a lovely person like I am." He boasts. "My amazing romantic partner even calls me their sunshine. Cause I 'light up their life' as they say. Bet you wish you had someone like that."

He is always fishing for compliments, trying to show off for you in any way he psychically can to get some of those sweet sweet words of affirmation. To his delight you always do, grabbing him for some well placed kisses.

He'll even go so far as to reject any assistance you offer him so he can prove he's all cool and competent by doing it himself. Although it's never too long before he gives up and sheepishly asks for your help.

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lanabuckybarnes · 6 months

Text

So bit of a weird scenario I have in my head that I wanted to share with you all.

Once again I’m writing more of Sgt Barnes but can you blame me.

Pairing: Sgt Barnes x reader

Warnings: None I believe.

Back in the 40s, before the world went to shit, you, Bucky and Steve were an inseparable trio. Where one went the others followed, although most of the time it was Steve third-wheeling you both. You and Bucky weren’t together, no, you were just close friends. Steve would scoff whenever they’d both say it, you’d both be wrapped up in each other’s arms and deny it.

The truth was, both of you were idiots, Steve had been the guy you’d both turn to when it came to gushing over each other. He still couldn’t figure out how you two never saw the heart eyes you’d give each other. You never got to confess your love to Bucky till much later, you lost him for 70 years after he fell from that train, after you were captured by Hydra also. When you finally met, your feelings for each other were far too much and you spilt over a bottle of old fashioned whiskey, life was good after that. Then you lost him again.

Tony, Steve and you return to the past to retrieve the stones, unfortunately Loki steals it before any of you were able to grab it. You’d have to travel much further back, to around 1943, before Bucky’s capture.

Since you were familiar with the area Steve and Tony trusted you to scout out ahead before they moved in. You never expected a group of drunk men to corner you into an alley and just your luck, your comms had stopped working making you unable to call for backup. You’d have to fight them yourself.

You’d gotten the upper hand for the most part, 3 of the 4 men lay nursing wounds but the 4th man had caught you unaware, when your back was turned he’d grabbed a pipe raising it high above his head as you turned to watch, your eyes closing at the impending attack- only for the pipe to not hit you at all.

“You think it’s cool to hit a woman punk”. The words were polluted with rage. The alley reverberated the crack of fist against bone, a howl following after. the man who’d almost broken your skull lay blubbering on the floor, blood pooling from between his fingers.

“You alright?” The man asked, you finally raised your eyes from his pale green pants to his face.

Your beating heart stopped, heaving breaths caught in your throat and tears welling in your eyes. It was him, those steel blue orbs unmistakable. It had been so long since you had seen that colour.

His brows quirked in confusion at your gawking face, he felt exposed.

“Hellooo” he tried again, this time it was enough to break you from your trance. You took note of his outstretched hand and grasped it gently, allowing him to pull you up close to him.

“Hmm doesn’t look like theirs much damage” he hummed his thumb running over a graze on your cheek, his mouth frowning slightly at your wet eyes. You wondered what the repercussions would be if he recognised you, or if you ran away with him.

“Are you ok?” Steve's voice broke out through the small earpiece but you couldn’t reply, still entranced by Bucky’s deep blue eyes.

“You know it’s crazy, I feel like I know you” Bucky laughed his hand fell from your face to tuck itself into his pocket. Oh shit, play it off, play it off!

“Oh yeah heh… must just have a normal-looking face” you retorted while looking away, desperately trying to conceal your face without it looking obvious. Bucky just hummed through pursed lips, unconvinced at your explanation.

After a beat, you cleared your throat and pulled away from him. “Well I gotta go, thanks for helping me” With one last longing look you left him in that alley. Rubbing at your eyes to hide the tears from Tony and Steve.

‘What a confusing woman’ Bucky’s head shook at the encounter before a flicker of gold caught his attention. With ease, he squatted down to have a look, at a pendant, a very old-fashioned-looking one. Picking it up he rolled it around in his fingers, inspecting its fine detail, suddenly it popped open.

Two photos laid delicately inside it, Bucky and you in the 40s, one he recognised instantly and a much more recent one taken by Sam when you weren’t looking. You were both on a fancy looking motorbike, your face contorted with laughter while Bucky’s eyes watched you from over his shoulder— even from the photo he could tell his eyes were swimming with love, that same love he felt for the other version of you.

How did he not notice before. He mentally kicked himself at his blindness, only a fool would completely miss something like that.

Tony and Steve were waiting for you when you got back to your meeting spot, their brows furrowed at your dishevelled appearance, wondering how you’d got into a fight so quickly.

Just then Steve noticed something.

“Your pendant”

Your hand shot to your neck, it wasn’t there, they’d grabbed at it during the fight but you hadn’t expected it to fall off.

“I have to go back for it”, you begged but Steve only shot you a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry, we have to go”

“But—”

“Are you looking for this?” His familiar voice vibrated your bones, your body reacting to it in the same way it always did.

He had his pendant dangling from between his fingers, a small smile decorating his features.

“My pendant” you sighed under your breath stepping forward to Bucky’s large structure, he tutted in response, pulling the pendant back.

Instead, he delicately turned your body and placed the pendant around your neck, fastening it once again with gentle fingers.

Spinning you around again his eyes met yours, the deep blue twinkling with specks of love. His fingers moved up your body till they found their spot on either side of your face. You were frozen in place.

“I'm glad he- I finally said something” his honey-toned voice broke the silence between you, a blush making its way onto his pale face as he contemplated whether or not he should go through with what his heart was telling him to do.

‘Fuck it’ he thought, pulling your face close to his. Sealing his plump lips over yours in a tender kiss.

With one last look into your eyes, he pulled back, hand still grasping at your own as he smiled.

“I’ll see you around” and with that, his hand slipped from yours as he turned. He’d left again with a promise— a promise that he’d fulfilled when he stepped through that gold circle of Strange’ and was back in your arms again, the cool metal fingers brushing over your face. You couldn’t wait to tell him about what had happened.

I’ve got so much smut in my drafts it’s actually unreal, who wants some?

This is a little thing I keep thinking about but idk if I’ve fleshed it out really and I’m having a little trouble with getting my emotions across in writing just now but meh.

Enjoy x

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lizsos · 3 months

Text

•Not Done•

▪︎Warnings: begging, squrting, overestimating, g!p ,dirty talk, no protection , creamie pie, MDNI .

▪︎Genre : smut

Lusher loves to make u squirt . Refusing to slow down the harsh snapping of her hips as you mewl underneath her . Your hands being held above your head while she fucks you meanly . Small breads of sweat on her forhead from concentration.

Rolling her hips with every thrust at the perfect angle . Pride seeking in her chest when your body continued to tremble. Shaky cries escaping your swollen lips as u moan for her . Your chest heaving with heavy breaths .

"S-seoyoung- ahh , its to much . 'M so- nngh.... 'm so sensitive " you cry , fresh tears sitting prettily on your lashes before running down your heated cheeks . Lusher leans down to kiss them away with a smile.

"I know baby- haah , I'm so s-senstive too . So sensitive" she breathed with a moan . "Love this pussy so much, wanna see her squirt f'me. Please make her squirt for me.

You let out a chocked whine , back arching as yet another oragsm swelled in your stomach. Your soft sobs of her name only fuelling her drive as she kept her pace strong . Hammering into you with her free hand on your clit. The contact sending you to heaven but making you overly sensitive and pulling a short scream past your lips .

"O-oh fuck, shit , oh fuck, I'm-fuckk" you let your fall into the sheets . Vision blurred with tears as your lips parted in the sweetest whimpering moans .clenching down on Lusher with a final cry of her name .

"Hmmmm, let it out please let it out." She begged , face sinking into your neck to breath you in with a cracked moan. "Need you to let it out for me. "

She could feel you shake underneath her as loud noises dripped off your tongue, your toes curling the second you felt it wash over you . Letting out a silent scream as your pussy gushed messily. Your slick dripping off your girlfriends cock, while you drenched her thighs . "Y-yes , oh shit- that's it. Thank you so much baby" . Lewd wet sounds beginning to arise when she kept going.

"S-seoyoungggg I thought we were done" you sniffed , glossed eyes meeting her matching ones.

"W-we are , I promise . Just gotta- fuckk" she allowed herself to fall onto you when her body quivered lightly , eyes rolling back with a string of moan as she buried herself deep in you . A small stripe of drool running past her lips and onto your skin as her cock twitched against your walls . Pumping you full with thick spurts of her sticky cum . <3

#swf2 #bada lee #lusher #swf2 x reader #street woman fighter 2 #bebe #team bebe #street woman fighter x reader

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urwhorecrux · 8 months

Note

hi leo! how r you? may i request dark!cedric being jealous? smut ending is a plus tho 😏😏😏 btw have a great day and thanks for reading this 💖

hii im doing okay, hbu? and yes ofc thank you <3

⋆ ˚⁀➷ ₊˚⊹⋆ all yours - c.d

pairing. cedric diggory x fem!reader.

warnings. dark themes, smut, degrading names, dom/sub characters, oral, yandere themes, stalking, toxic behavior.

summary. just a blurb, fwb!cedric gets jealous watching you spend time fred, ending in a punishment, making you his.

a/n. little blurb ^_^ ignore how bad my yandere writing is.

Cedric believed the best way to approach being more than friends who fool- or approach an actual relationship with the girl he liked, was by keeping you as far away from Fred as he possibly could.

Now, as you lay across your bed, cedric grasping your thighs around his head, you knew exactly how you ended up here.

No one could argue that you spent as much time with Fred as you did Cedric, the only difference between them was that Cedric craved you more. After cedric noticed you taking an interest in Fred yet still fooling around with him-- he noticed something needed to change.

Thats why you're here- on cedric's tongue, screaming his name constantly almost every second.

He tightened your legs around his neck, grasping the soft skin around your thighs softly but firmly. His tongue continued nibbling at your wet cunt, dark eyes constantly looking up at your flushed, tired out face.

The day had started with him dragging you back to his dorm, establishing you weren't allowed to see Fred anymore- only him. He'd had a dirty dream the night before, after seeing how much of a desperate slut you could be for fred, he couldn't resist.

You weren't allowed to stop until cedric couldn't take it anymore. One of his favorite things in the world was your pussy, so the question was would he every really stop?

You'd already came on his tongue twice. The first one he made you ride his face, your wetness immediately gushing down his face by his fast tongue. The second, now he was painfully teasing you by dragging his tongue across your wet folds, praising you as he tastes every inch of you.

"Mm, you jus' taste so good sweetheart", he groaned, licking your juices around his lips.

"Ced- please..", you whined, voice barely stable, "Please just let me come, baby".

"Mhm, wrong, not yet", he grinned at you, smiling softly against your clit. "should've been good then baby, huh?" he cooed, inserting a finger inside you.

" 'M sorry please, please ced!"

"Mhmm i know baby, can't help but wanna see you spill all over again."

Moments after he nods allowing you to finally let go. Tears of pleasure began flowing down your face, a tight knot begging to form pressure in your stomach.

" I jus' want you all to myself baby', he whispered.

"I know I know, all yours only yours", you nodded.

#harry potter #cedric diggory x reader smut #cedric diggory smut #cedric diggory x reader #cedric x reader #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory #cedric diggory fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter x reader fluff #cedric diggory x y/n smut #cedric diggory x y/n #cedric diggory blurb #harry potter fandom #hp fanfic #hp smut #nsfw.urwhorecrux

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 1 year

Note

I know you wrote for Kappa/Euro. Hear me out.. could you write for Euro/Dead from lords of chaos? No one writes for jack kilmer and it drives me insane‼️😭

Pure Fucking Armaggedon

Summary: In the midst of a heavy night of partying with the Black Circle, you crave your boyfriend's attention but just like so often lately, he's very much not interested, leading you to meet your needs somewhere else…

Pairing: Dead x fem!Reader x Euronymous

Word Count: ~3.7k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Talk About Depression/Mental Illness, Talk About Self-Harm, Very Angsty, Hurt/Comfort...ish, Alcohol, Smoking, Cheating…But With A Twist, Fingering, Unprotected P In V, Creampie, Pet Names

A/N: Hi, anonnie! Thank you very much for this ask <3 Before everybody jumps into my inbox about Jack Kilmer: Please don’t, okay? He’s not tickling my brain like Rory does and I’d hate to let y’all down by having requests sitting in my inbox collecting dust 🖤 However, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't having a lot of fun writing this chaos!

Massive thanks to @spookyorchid for endlessly entertaining my rambles and inspiring me!

Disclaimer: This is solely based on the characters depicted in Lords Of Chaos!

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @lifelessvessel @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222 @kristennero-wallacewellsver @iiheartsai @fan-goddess @shady-the-simp

Could you stomach it anymore

Could you stand to be a breath away

Can you feel the way your face distorts

Did you think that it could be this way

- Stomach It By Crywolf

Your upper lip twitched a little as your gaze darted right into your boyfriend's chestnut-coloured eyes. In a rather stark contrast to yours, Pelle's expression was indifferent whilst he stared back at you, face smeared with a now gray amalgamation of once black and white corpse paint.

"Sorry…" He muttered, his voice lacking the depth and sympathy to really sell his point.

"No…it's, it's okay, really. It makes no sense to pressure yourself when you're not in the mood, no." You shrugged your shoulders at him, very much meaning what you said whilst you still felt that massive rock of repeated disappointment settling down in your stomach.

"I'm gonna go grab another beer then…can I get you something?" Pelle shook his head lightly.

"No, but thanks. I think I should just go to sleep now." The Swede with the long blonde hair allowed himself to slump deeper down into the old, worn out sofa, crossing his arms in front of his chest and with that not just verbally but also physically blocking you out.

"Nighty then…" You mumbled, turning away from your boyfriend to hide just how hard you fought to keep your composure.

Neither the heavy leather jacket, the edgy metal studs and spikes all over nor your trusty Darkthrone shirt hugging your torso were able to shield you from the emotional hurt raging inside of you. It's been months since Pelle last touched or so much as kissed you on the mouth. You knew just fine that something wasn't alright with him, that he was going through an episode again and the last thing you intended on doing was putting any blame for that on him but fuck was it challenging you this time. It didn't go past you how the I love you's had become more and more scarce, how he turned his back to you at night whilst you stared at the ceiling hoping for the oncoming episode to wash over him in a few, swift weeks but his current black hole of depression was unlike anything before. You hardly recognised your boyfriend anymore and felt like nothing but an accessory to the whole band persona he'd put up to cover up how much he was actually hurting on the inside.

To not come off as a soft, little crybaby to everybody else, you stifled your breath and wiped the emerging gush of tears from your lower lash line as fast as you could before making your way out to the densely crowded yard again. Empty bottles of beer lined the way whilst partially smoked-up cigarettes laid scattered all over, the heavy smell of a raging bonfire filled the crisp night breeze. Whilst almost violently looking to the ground to avoid anybody seeing you being about to burst into tears, you rushed to one of the cooling boxes to grab a beer or preferably something stronger. A sense of recklessness washed through you as you dug a deeply green, still halfway full glass bottle from the cooler. Jägermeister would serve you just fine right now.

Armed with the strong booze, you went right back into the house, hiding yourself away from all the action to simply get drunk in peace and solitude.

"Ugh…" Your whole body quivered as the herbal liquor shot down your throat, drenching your mouth in its bitter taste.

Right after the sensation eased up a little, you chased the first swig with a second, deeper one, the alcohol burning its way through your stomach before you'd even reached the corner of the house that could be described as a guest room to slump down on an array of dusty mattresses. With the intense warmth of heavy liquor washing through your body, you curled yourself up, shoving an old pillow underneath your head and before you really realized it, vagrant, quiet tears trickled from the corners of your eyes, pooling at the tear duct to eventually swap over the bridge of your nose. If you were honest with yourself, you felt sick of it, sick of being ignored and pushed away but at the same time you just couldn't bring yourself to point the finger at Per. He simply didn't choose this way of being and feeling yet it felt like he wasn't even trying anymore…which, again, would just be another symptom. You sighed in defeat before treating yourself to another numbing mouthful of booze.

Allowing the tears to just run down your face at their very own pace, you simply wanted to get drunk as fast as possible but even that wouldn't be granted to you, a gentle knock on the slightly ajar door pulling you from your thoughts.

"Huh?" You muttered, sitting up straight again and wiping the wetness from your cheeks.

"Hey…are you okay?" The familiar voice belonging to Øystein asked.

His head peaked through the open door, a messy bunch of black hair framing his face in wavy strands.

"Saw you rushing through the yard and thought checking up on you wouldn't hurt…" He slid his lean statue through the small opening, stepping towards you before crouching down to meet your gaze.

"See? That's part of the problem…you, you care and Pelle just…he just sits there." The words blubbered out of you in an uncontrolled rush accompanied by a new surge of hot tears.

"Hey now…", Euronymous quickly sat down, tucking the frizzy hair behind his ears, "What's going on, hm?"

"I'm so sick of this shit, Øystein… I can't help him, I can't fix him and he just pushes me away time and time again. I'm so done with this bullshit." It practically gushed out of your mouth in a poorly choked-back wail.

"There's a whole horde of people out there, Euro, yet I feel so terribly fucking lonely all the time. Everybody's cheering for Mayhem and for Dead, going on about how fucking cool and true he is for what he's doing to himself on stage but you know what?", You tried to stifle your shaky breaths, "It's not cool. None of it. It's actually fucking terrifying…and it's me who's got to stitch him back to gether every damn time."

With every one of your words, Øystein's eyes widened a little more, partly in understanding about just how much his friend was dragging you through but also in plain sympathy for you.

"Come'ere, yeah? C'mon…if it helps you can squeeze me as hard as you want to, okay?" Euronymous spread both his arms, inviting you in for a tight hug.

Not wasting a second thought on it, you leaned in, wrapping your shaking hands around his shoulders to squeeze and press as tightly as you could.

"There you go…that's it, right there." Euronymous encouraged you, the palms of his broad hands resting at the back of your head to soothe you with gentle pets and strokes.

"I wish I could help you but none of us really gets through to him anymore…I'm so sorry." Øystein sighed into the curve of your neck, the tip of his nose almost touching the cold, black leather of your jacket.

"I don't even know what's going on with him anymore. Everything is just so terribly wrong and I don't know how much longer I can do this shit, Euro, I really don't." You sniffled, inevitably having the vastly different scent of Euronymous right in front of you sneaking up into your nostrils.

Unlike Pelle, he smelled like stale cigarette smoke, cheap aftershave and beer…maybe not exactly a crowd pleaser but you found comfort in it.

"It's okay. I don't judge you." He whispered to you in a soft tone and it threatened to break you apart from the inside.

"Thank you…", You croaked into his hair, your voice getting weaker with every letter, "I feel so shitty for thinking about it like that but…but I'm so goddamn tired. I-...I just wanna feel loved again."

"To remind you…there's a whole horde of people out there who love you." He tried to cheer you up but ultimately missed the point.

"Not…not like that. Ugh, I sound stupid…" You felt the need to take the words straight back and to just go with Øystein's attempt of calming you.

"No, you don't, seriously.", Euronymous led his fingers to get lost in your hair, fingertips softly stroking across your scalp down to the nape of your neck, "I can't imagine how you came up with enough energy to stay this long in the first place. We both know it's not his fault, neither is it yours or mine but we've all been watching you breaking away because of him. You're not smiling anymore, not screaming your lungs out at the gigs, you're barely even here anymore…he's eating you up."

"I can't just leave, Øystein…" You gradually loosened your death grip around his torso to lean back, your face wet with slowly subsiding tears.

"I know…all I'm saying is that it might be time to think about yourself a little more. It won't help anybody if you get lost in his chaos, too." Before you could raise your own hand to wipe the sleeve of your jacket across your face, Euronymous was already on it, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Whilst taking a deep breath to steady yourself a bit more, the two of you just stared at each other for a moment. You followed how he slightly grinded his teeth together, jaws clenching, withholding something you couldn't quite decipher.

"Øystein?" You furrowed your brows a little, the feeling of something being violently off ebbing through your chest.

"I'm sorry…" That's all he offered to you before cupping your face with the full length of his palm and leaning in to press an anything but timid kiss to your trembling lips.

A part of you, the voice of reason within, practically screamed at you to pull away, to scurry back and to let this go down as nothing but an awkward, boozy, little slip-up, but you didn't move by just an inch as the pungent taste of smoked cigarettes and cheap beer swept into your mouth alongside Euronymous' daring tongue. You simply let it happen, allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth and intoxicate you with the dangerously addictive feeling of being wanted, desired by someone.

"Fuck…" You groaned into the nearly bruising kiss, hands reaching out to claw at his utterly worn out Venom shirt to pull him closer to you.

Catching the notion that he had dared to make the right move at the right time, Øystein's palm left your face, both hands roaming over your back down to your ass to simply scoop you into his lap, your legs wrapping themselves around the cold of his bullet-shell belt as the hem of your washed-out, gray denim skirt rode up generously over your fishnet-stocking covered thighs.

"I got you…just hold on to me." Euronymous muttered, trying to catch his breath a little whilst his fingers dug themselves into the curve of your behind, causing you to whine out as you arched your hips impossibly close towards his crotch.

The aching need to feel just something again practically pulsed through every nerve ending and every muscle, pulling you into his tight grasp and for your hands to slip under the soft fabric of his shirt, skin against skin leaving you to crave more. Whilst one of his hands left it's place cupping your ass to hurry down between your bodies, awkwardly fumbling with the buckle of his belt before almost violently pulling down the zipper, a short but heavy pang of guilt jolted through your ribcage, nearly causing you to flinch on the spot. Nothing about this situation at hand was right or somehow, in some crooked way, justifiable to you and yet you made not a single move to stop any of it from happening. You didn’t grasp for Øystein's hand as it hushed from his unzipped pants amidst your legs, the sound of your tights tearing and ripping thundering in your ears, right before curious fingertips brushed over thin lace panties, no. The only reaction it pulled from your body was a needy moan.

"Right there, yeah?" You heard the smirk in his tone without even needing to see it.

Nodding softly, you placed your mouth back onto his, teeth teasingly grazing over his bottom lip.

"Bet that feels even better, babe." At first you didn't know what struck you harder, the endearing pet name or Euronymous' fingers snaking past your slip, dipping right into your soaked folds to draw achingly slow circles around your entrance.

"Please…" You hummed into the kiss, your forehead leaning against his.

"Please, what?", He inquired, fingertips prodding and nudging against your cunt, "Want me to fill you up, no? Such a greedy little thing."

You choked back a whine as Øystein withdrew his hand from your slip to shove the fabric to the side, fingers freeing his rock-hard cock from the confines of his shorts right before thrusting into you with a precise rock of his hips against yours.

"Oh, fuck…" Your moan got lost in his mouth, the delicious feeling of being stretched out so harshly rippling through you.

"How long has it been, huh?" He pushed, drilling himself into you until it threatened to hurt.

"I dunno…four months, maybe five." You couldn't stop your eyes from fluttering shut, the burning heat of arousal and shame creeping into your face in equal parts.

"Yeesh, couldn't leave a girl like you untouched for that long." Euronymous huffed, his other hand steadying your posture with his palm flat against your back as he started rolling his hips, practically bouncing you on his cock.

With your entire body flush with the sensation of Øystein spearheading into you in a firm pace, the last bit of your coherent brain busy muffling and holding back desperate mewls and whimpers, you rendered completely oblivious to what was happening around you…unlike the black-haired guitarist. From the very corner of his eyes, Øystein's attention got pulled towards the semi-open door, the old, wooden floor in front of it creaking treacherously. Just by the way a well familiar pair of thoroughly worn out combat boots barely peaked across the lines of the door frame, he knew that the both of you had been caught right in the act but he didn't so much as even bother to stop from guiding you up and down his throbbing hard on.

"You at least got yourself off here and there, no?" You shook your head.

"Didn't feel right. I- I just hoped things would get back to normal…" You groaned, the sensation of Euronymous' cock stroking over that extra sensitive spot inside of you sending cold, little shivers down your spine.

"Oh, love, then I better make sure to give it to you better than Per ever could…lazy fucker." Øystein scoffed more to his friend and singer hiding next to the door frame than to you but you didn't take any notice of that, your senses way too busy with just keeping it together.

For a moment, Øystein felt actual and very real rage gushing through him. Anger towards his friend for being such an oblivious prick regarding the suffering and all-round neglect he was dragging you through. It was a terribly self-righteous emotion, that he knew for sure, however, he couldn't help himself but to let it fuel the way he rutted into you, burying himself as deep as possible inside of your wet pussy.

The rather morbid thing both of you failed to take notice of was what Dead was doing hidden away in the shadows of the hallway, the crushing humiliation not only going straight to his heart but to his awfully throbbing cock as well, the bitter-sweet masochistic rush leading him to palm himself through his trousers whilst biting down on his fist to not let just one singular sound escape from his twitching lips. The Swede was shamelessly jerking himself off to you getting railed by his closest friend.

"Gonna take good care of you, babe." Øystein groaned in a lust-riddled tone, both of his hands now closing down around your hips to hammer your form onto his cock with every jut and snap of his hips.

It had you bashfully nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, the cigarette smoke soaked leather of his jacked cold against your cheek, whilst you still clawed at his sides underneath his shirt.

Your fingers dug into his skin as you felt your walls starting to flutter and contract around Øystein's hard on, the first crushing jolts of your pent-up orgasm rippling through your body, senses being sent into blissful overdrive.

"Good girl…fuck, pulling me in so hard now, huh?" Euronymous' voice cracked and eventually faltered just like the rolls of his lap against yours.

"Issok…", He talked you through your release, shoving himself balls deep into your spasming cunt before flooding your insides with white-hot ropes of his seed, a guttural groan ripping itself free from the depths of his lungs, "Just let yourself go. I gotchu."

The earth-shattering sensation of all the pent-up sexual desperation mixed in with shame and crushing guilt washing through your system had you biting down on his leather-clad shoulder, a fresh surge of tears threatening to swap over your lower lash line at any second.

"Aw, shit." A sore croak from outside the room led both of you to turn your heads so suddenly that it nearly gave you whiplash.

"The fuck?!" You shrieked out, practically jumping from Øystein's lap whilst he was equally busy with tucking himself back in and getting off the mattress.

"I got this!" Euronymous tried to calm you, awkwardly stumbling away from you before tearing the door open and vanishing into the dark hallway.

For a split second your overworked synapses tried to get a vague grasp on what was going down. Feet were hammering down stairs, noisy commotion erupted from inside the house before the sound of shattering glass and incomprehensible screaming and shouting filled the yard.

"Oh fuck no…" You huffed under your breath, wobbly legs nearly giving out as you tried to pull yourself from the mattress.

As soon as you stood upright again, you felt Øystein's load oozing out of you, soaking the flimsy fabric of your slip with every step you took. You dreaded the scenario that was unfolding outside because the yelling didn't seem to die down but much rather escalate further.

"You fucking traitor!" Pelle's raspy voice cut through the night air, hitting you as soon as you slid out the front door.

"Fucking traitor?!", Øystein spat right back whilst your eyes scanned the scenery anxiously, "You're the spineless loser, Per!"

"You fucked my girlfriend, Øystein!" Dead yelled and with his words you noticed Metallion and Jan Axel staring right at you, nothing but drunk confusion washing over their faces.

"And you pathetic fuck got off to it!" Euronymous had to duck down to dodge an empty beer bottle being sent his way.

"You what?!" You directed the question right at your boyfriend before you noticed a tell-tale damp and soaked-through spot right around his zipper.

"Yes, please tell her how you stood outside the room jerking off to your girl breaking down in front of me, Per!" Your bewildered stare rushed towards Øystein now.

"Huh? You…you saw him or what now?!?" The guitarist shrugged his shoulders and nodded.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" Jan Axel tried to intervene but both Per and Øystein shushed him almost simultaneously.

"You shut the fuck up!" Pelle sneered, looking like he was about ready to throw one of the plenty empty bottles of beer after his drummer too.

"No.", You huffed, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso to shield you from the creeping cold, "He actually got a point, because…what the hell?!"

"Pumpkin, I can explain, I promise." Per raised his hands in a soothing manner but you didn't feel like having any of it.

"Don't you dare sweet-talk me now, Pelle! You've been pushing me away for months but…you get off to, well, this?" You indirectly confirmed all that had been happening between Øystein and you.

"No. Just no. You know what? Fuck you. Fuck this shit. I'm not even remotely drunk enough to deal with this shitshow right now." To undoubtedly cement your point, you took a few swift steps toward Øystein who was looking at you with wide eyes as you fished for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket, drawing one for yourself before deliberately putting it to your lips.

"Yes, I fucked Øystein.", You threw your hands into the air after lighting the cigarette, "Maybe I should've done that much sooner, who knows?"

The last sentence was solely aimed to hurt Per as much as he had hurt you.

"Fucking hell, I'm so sick of all this dysfunctional shit…", You just shook your head before heading back inside, "Better none of you disrupt the date I have with a piss-warm bottle of Jägermeister now or you fucking bet I'll cut your dick off!"

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #rory culkin lords of chaos #lords of chaos #jack kilmer #euronymous x reader #euronymous smut #euronymous #dead lords of chaos #euronymous x fem!reader #dead x fem!reader #jack kilmer smut #jack kilmer x fem!reader #mayhem fic #mayhem

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harrygoeswest · 1 year

Text

Infatuation On A Mutual Level

You and Harry are housemates and are both secretly quite fond of one another.

A/N: Woooo she’s here!!! I loved writing this one shot a lot and I really hope it shows. I haven’t had motivation to write for ages and this year I’ve really come back to it and I’m so happy. I hope you all love it as much as I do. She’s special to me. Special mention to the only person who ever wants to read for me @all-things-fic <3 Please come tell me what you think afterwards!! Katie x

Trigger Warnings: sexual content, brief mentions of loss, nightmares

Word Count: 18,777

~.~.~.~.~

Now

Every morning was the same.

The creak from the only bed on the first floor began the day. Then the gush of the tap in the shared bathroom. The kettle in the kitchen on the ground floor. The door closing when George left for the day. Then again 15 minutes later when Rhys did. Abbie starting the shower immediately afterwards now her boyfriend was gone. And then the only thing that ever made your skin prickle:

Harry’s door opening.

Every morning you would roll over at the sound, away from it. God forbid the man who defined ‘sex on legs’ ever pinned you with that warm, green-eyed stare first thing in the morning through the open gap of your own bedroom door. No, you might never be able to survive such a thing.

Living in a shared house was hard. Not least because you felt responsible for the place itself; owned by your single dad who would do anything to bring in what income he could, including taking more rent off his eldest child than he’d like. An argument arose regularly over your living situation but it was hard enough filling the fourth bedroom with a tenant. Living in the third was the least you felt you could do. The building was in dire need of some TLC but it wasn’t exactly an affordable fete. Sometimes the ceiling leaked on the second floor when it rained thanks to some shabby scaffolding work a few years back; the main reason why it was so hard to let the fourth bedroom. Part of you didn’t want to.

It was also hard in a house share because people were messy and you had a horrendous phobia of general mess. If you could quit your job and play full-time housekeeper you absolutely would. But your dad wouldn’t allow that. “Not in my lifetime,” He’d say with the gentlest scowl.

But the hardest part, by far, was being in such close proximity to the man who rented the bedroom across the hall. You weren’t sure why you were so terrified of him. Scarred by your original encounter with him, perhaps, but he wasn’t actually scary. He was, rather annoyingly, the nicest person in the house. Constantly aloof, yes, but still the poster boy for gentlemen everywhere.

Maybe if you spoke to him you’d learn he’s just a normal bloke, your inner voice trilled.

“Shut the fuck up.” You hissed into your pillow.

You waited for the inevitable sputter of the shower starting up again, and then rolled out of bed, threw on the clothes you’d hung up on the wardrobe door the night before - clean white shirt and grey trousers, ironed within an inch of their life - and scurried downstairs to arrange your usual to-go breakfast. Coffee in a reusable cup and a cereal bar. Hair and makeup could be fixed at work. You were always thirty minutes early anyway.

Harry wasn’t sure how you managed it. How every day you managed to evade him to avoid a puffy-eyed “good morning” or a potentially awkward conversation over breakfast.

As he stood in the hallway between your bedrooms towelling his hair dry in nothing but a pair of boxers and a damp t-shirt, he stared into your bedroom and marvelled yet again at how you seemed to have managed to keep it tidied to a borderline compulsive degree.

A large king bed sat against the left wall with ironed white linens and a plush sunflower yellow throw draped across the foot. One lone bedside table tucked against the right side with a tasselled muted green 60s velvet lamp and a book resting atop. A picture hung above the headboard - some vibrant canvas of abstract art. Every morning he wondered if you’d painted it yourself. Against the opposite wall stood a tall regal-looking cherrywood wardrobe next to a matching dresser with a sleek TV on top. It was the most modern thing about the room. In the window overlooking the garden a dream catcher hung in the dead centre. It was the only nicknack you seemed to have, and part of him hated that it seemed like something negative. Something to catch nightmares, to ward off evil.

Did you have bad dreams? And if so, why?

As always, the window had been opened two inches to let in fresh air. You never closed your door, not even at night. You never had clothes left out. Clutter didn’t exist in your vocabulary. Dust wasn’t permitted in your room. Or the bathroom, or kitchen, or living room, he’d deduced. You took Wednesdays off in the week and cleaned when no one else was home to bother you. He doubted the others had picked up on these things about you, but he’d noticed.

Harry had noticed a lot about you.

Especially that in the mornings, you waited until he took his bathroom time to get ready for work and leave without having to run into him. Some chaotic part of him wanted to change his routine so you’d have to. He wanted to know what you looked like straight out of bed with puffy eyes and linen marks on your cheeks and hair in disarray. The other part of him, the gentleman, told him not to. Who knew what might happen if he threw your routine off kilter.

Distress, probably?

No. He wouldn’t be having that.

Shaking his head, he wandered into his own room and shut the door behind him. One day the puzzle of you would finally form a complete picture. Today, he settled for the tethered, jumbled segments he’d managed to collect this far.

You stared at your phone, face a picture of bewilderment. Deciphering text messages from the housemates was starting to get increasingly difficult, no thanks to the fact that you were shit at it and everyone else seemed to excel.

Blackpool Tower

🌚 👰🏼❌🧽🍽️🔄

🌝 🙈🖕🏼

👰🏼 😕

Translation: Abbie George didn’t wash his dishes again.

Rhys Oh for fuck’s sake.

George Whoops.

You were on a roll with the emojis. It had started as a joke because George had said he hated people who only used emojis to text each other rather than actual words, so for a week the four of you had sent every text using only emojis. Then it had turned into a bet: how long could all of you go without using words, and who would be the first one to crack. You all knew that, without a doubt, Rhys would crack first, even though he was the one who’d proposed the bet in the first place. It had been two weeks and no one had cracked yet.

🍉 🤔👰🏼🥄🥄🍱🔄

👰🏼 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😠

🌝 😒🙄

🌚 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

👑 ❌❌❌❌❌❌❌

Translation:

Harry Maybe George should cook dinner again…

George HAHAHAHAHAHAHA no.

Rhys Yeah right.

Abbie No thank you.

You Absolutely fucking not.

Why did all of you have such ridiculous headers?

Abbie and Rhys were the twin moons because that was the look they always gave each other when they thought something was cute, funny, interesting, or otherwise. They’d moved into the house as a couple and had remained in said couple for 3 years. Sharing a room was their way of saving money to buy a house. It made sense.

George was a blonde bride because he was the most outwardly gay man any of you had ever known and often acted like an utter madam. Madam was actually George’s nickname to his friends now thanks to the house’s light ribbing. He had also chosen his own emoji.

Harry was the watermelon because we were never without it thanks to a frankly concerning obsession. If there wasn’t a watermelon in the fridge, or slices, or packaged chunks, something was very wrong.

And you were the crown because you’d refused to pick an emoji and the house had affectionately bestowed the title of Tower Queen to you. You’d pretended to hate it, but they all knew you viewed it as the highest compliment.

Oh, and the group chat was called Blackpool Tower because you lived together in a tall, two-rooms-to-a-floor townhouse at the top of town. The Eiffel Tower had been suggested but George immediately pointed out that we were not a classy enough bunch to live in such a fine establishment. I’d told him to speak for himself.

The talk of food made you hungry, and it hit you like a landslide that you hadn’t had any dinner. You rolled off your bed and sent a text to Blackpool Tower, then shoved your phone away.

Multiple things happened at once. The shower turned on in the bathroom; your bedroom door opened with a quiet creak (which would not happen again since you went through WD40 like a bee in pollen); Harry’s phone vibrated with another text.

Blackpool Tower

👑 👩‍🍳🍝 … 🌚🍝🌝🍝🍉🍝➡️🧊 … ❌🍝👰🏼

Harry snickered.

Translation: You Making dinner. Leftovers in the fridge. None for George.

It wasn’t unusual you’d make enough food for everyone. Harry had learned that you’d picked that trait up from your dad. Sometimes no one would stop you, especially since there was never anything wrong with a meal you’d cooked. In fact, if there were a restaurant with food cooked by you, Harry would dine there every night. But he also knew that letting you cook for all the other housemates all the time wasn’t fair.

🌚 🍉➡️🍉❌🍉➡️🍉❌👑

👰🏼 🚫🚫🚫🚫

“For fuck’s sake.” He muttered.

Rhys must have been in the shower. If George or Abbie were home they’d have rugby tackled you to the floor given the chance.

Harry abandoned his phone and lurched out of his room, down the stairs to the kitchen. He nearly stacked it twice but he made it, with panting breaths to accompany him.

You turned your gaze on him with a startled look, giving him a once over. “What are you doing…?”

“Don’t you dare cook for everyone else.”

You blinked twice and then rolled your eyes. “It’s fine - I’ve got plenty.”

“It’s not fair.”

“If I don’t cook it today it’ll go off. So might as well.”

Harry looked at the produce you’d piled on the counter and back at you, then back again. “Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You bought enough for everyone.” He straightened and folded his arms across his chest.

You spluttered and scoffed for far too long. “No.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t stop me.” You scowled at him.

It was the most emotions he’d ever seen on you. If he’d known all this time that all he needed to do to get a conversation out of you was wind you up a bit, he’d have done it much sooner.

“Yes I can.”

You put a hand on your hip. Christ. “How?”

He stared at you, statuesque and cursing himself for challenging a bet he couldn’t win. You were right. How would he stop you? He wasn’t going to drag you away from the kitchen and up the stairs without your permission. Hell, he didn’t want to do anything without your permission, threats begotten. He hadn’t thought this through.

You let out a breath, a mocking one, and turned away from him and picked up a knife to start chopping. “Didn’t think so.”

“You can’t do this forever.”

Chop.

“Do what?” You challenged, refusing to look at him again.

Chop chop.

“Look after every person that comes in here because you feel like you owe people something. The world will take advantage of you. Is that what you want?”

Your shoulders visibly tensed over the words that tumbled out of his mouth. They weren’t even spoken with malice. They were soft and cautious.

CHOP.

“This feels like a very deep conversation to be having on a Tuesday evening.”

He growled, frustrated. “Stop babying everyone.”

Chopchopchop.

“If they didn’t want me to baby them they simply wouldn’t let me. And maybe I like babying people. Sometimes it’s nice to have a responsibility.”

“That’s just it, though. They’re not your responsibility.”

You smacked the knife down on the chopping board and turned to face him, an unfamiliar anger in your eyes that muddled with something else murky and grey. Hurt. “Will you just let me cook my fucking dinner in peace?”

Harry stood, tense, staring at you with his fists clenching and unclenching. Finally, he said, “Fine. But you’ve got to let me help you.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Harry.” Your head lolled back.

“Two different people, but I appreciate why you might get confused.”

You stared at him for an indecipherable length of time. Or gawked might have been a better descriptor. And then you snatched the tea towel off the side and smacked it in a whip-like movement against his arm. “Git.”

Two weeks later and you and Harry had begun a sort of ritual; you would cook with each other every other night. The distinct difference was that when you bought food, you bought enough for everyone. When Harry did it he only bought enough for the two of you.

You hadn’t quite figured out yet if being in this new… friendship with Harry was better or worse. Cooking together four nights a week versus blissful ignorance towards him and his attractiveness? The now near-constant proximity to him was making your head spin for stupid reasons. Namely said attractiveness.

His biceps for one. No one should be allowed arms that had the ability to make one’s mouth water. Pair his strong muscles with the litter of tattoos that were drawn down his right arm and you’d found yourself sweating even on the coldest day. A man’s body should not have such a strong effect on a person, yet here you were - a swoon personified.

Then there was his face, which was worse. Eyes mouth jaw. Those three things individually on a man were the first thing that always drew you in, but Harry had a triple threat. Seaglass green, blush pink and the perfect 100 degree angle. Not too square. And to top it all off, a wispy mop of chestnut waves atop his big head.

The perfect man?

“Aye,” Harry took the knife off you before you started chopping an onion, “thought we established that needed sharpening. A blunt knife is more dangerous than a sharp one.”

A man who cared about your wellbeing?

His bedside manner could use some work.

“Fuck off.” You whispered to your inner voice.

“What?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head, cheeks burning. Great, he probably thought you were crazy.

You silently passed Harry the stone out of the drawer. He could sharpen it if he was going to make such a big deal out of it.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, and started swiping the edge of the knife along the full length of the stone.

Chalky noises. Sharp noises. Furrowed brow. Biceps flexing. Obscenely attractive. Abort abort abort.

You busied yourself by turning on the hob and drizzling oil into a pan. Basically looking anywhere but at Harry and his arms. Sexy arms.

Sex on legs.

Your legs were wobbling. A flame of burdened heat licked its way between your thighs and you had to lean against the counter to stop from buckling. It had been a long time since a man had touched you.

Yeah. This was worse. Definitely worse. Hyper-awareness of everything going on around you wasn’t unusual, but being hyper-aware of everything Harry did was like some unfound form of torture. There was being attracted to someone and then there was whatever this situation was.

Ridiculous?

It was ridiculous, but at least you could suffer knowing that your inner voice had been wrong. Harry was not a normal bloke. He was some kind of enigma.

For the past couple of nights Harry had kept his door open. He’d learned that you did indeed have nightmares regularly so the dreamcatcher you kept in your bedroom window was doing little for your unconscious mind. He’d debated buying a bigger one for you but wasn’t entirely sure how appropriate that would be.

You weren’t loud. In fact, if he hadn’t kept his door open he never would’ve known, because the ajar-ness of his door had come prompted for completely different reasons - that unusual urge to see you first thing in the morning. Now two nights in a row he had been woken up by your little yelp, followed with a hissed string of curses while shifting around your bedsheets to get comfortable again. As soon as he knew you were asleep, he wasn’t too far along after you.

He still hadn’t been able to decide if cooking with you nearly every night was a good thing or a bad thing. While he never failed to enjoy himself during your bi-nightly kitchen sessions, he hated separating from you afterwards. It wasn’t enough. The persistent nearness of you for an hour or so only to be followed by a later severance was almost painful. The bedroom door being left open was just another attempt at trying to get closer to you.

He knew it was you in the bathroom because you took longer than everyone else. Not because you were using up all the hot water but because you used it as an excuse to give it a thorough clean. Being able to hear everything going on in the house was both a gift and a curse, but Harry wasn’t attuned to all the tenants. Only you.

Five minutes later the bathroom door opened, and you plodded up the two flights of stairs. He knew the way all the stairs creaked, and you were going at nothing more than a leisurely pace. He caught a glimpse of you as you passed, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. The scent of strawberries and jasmine wafted through the gap in his door after you.

Harry’s phone vibrated.

Blackpool Tower

🌝 Friends coming over tomorrow night for drinks 🍻 we’ll behave

👰🏼 You idiot

🌚 RHYS

🌝 NOOOOOOOOOO

🍉 Pay up dipshit

🌝 😭😭😭

A few minutes later Harry got a notification to say he’d received a £10 payment into his bank account.

Then

The cold had crept in again. Not from the weather - it was warm at night. This was a different kind of cold. The sweaty kind that kept you up at night. Medication had kept the nightmares away for some time but now you were locked in the house for the foreseeable future you couldn’t bear the idea of being constantly dimmed down by it in front of your housemates.

Last night was the first time you’d had a nightmare in close to a year and it was just as terrifying as it used to be. Some traumas just wouldn’t leave you be. You’d taken a couple of painkillers to numb your headache and they’d graciously knocked you out for another few hours and brought you right on through to 8am. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d slept that late. With everyone at home all the time now, it seemed no one wanted to get out of bed.

You had a job to do today, anyway. The room next to yours had finally been rented, so you’d been tasked with giving it a proper clean before the new tenant arrived this evening.

You did need to eat, but before that you wanted to get the window open in there to coax some fresh air in.

Hauling yourself out of bed, you meticulously tidied your room the same you did with every morning, dressed in clothes appropriate for cleaning, and took the short step across the hall to the other room.

The door was closed which was unusual. You always left the doors to the empty rooms open with a wedge so they wouldn’t get stuffy from disuse. Maybe you’d opened the window yesterday and forgot? Had the wind closed it for you?

Shrugging to yourself, you opened it anyway.

“Oh,” your eyes widened, “fuck, shit, sorry.”

Inside, collapsed face down on the bed dressed with only a sheet was a man, near-naked in only a pair of boxers. You couldn’t see much of his features bar a mop of chocolate curls, a heavily tattooed arm, and a particularly nice arse beneath his pants.

He lifted his head, complete with a gorgeous profile, and peeled open an eye. A very green, beautiful eye. He made a confused, questioning noise.

The room was full of belongings, so this must be the new tenant and not some homeless person who’d managed to sneak in without anyone realising. At least you hoped.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were moving in later today. Sorry.”

“Friday.” He managed. A sleep-coated, groggy and somewhat delirious voice. It was delicious. You wanted to taste it.

“What?”

“Friday was moving day.”

“Yes. Today.”

“No. Yesterday.”

You looked at your phone. “Christ. I’m sorry. Isolation is getting to me. You don’t care. I’m sorry. I’m interrupting your sleep. I’ll go. Sorry.”

You pulled the door closed before you could embarrass yourself any further, and then hid yourself in the bathroom out of sheer embarrassment.

If you never saw that marvellous-looking man again it would be too soon.

Now

Harry often thought about that first day.

Morning. Just after dawn. Early summer sun casting you in gold. Tiny shorts. Faded creaseless t-shirt. Sleepy face messy hair.

He hadn’t seen you anything of the sort since and he craved it like an addict did cocaine.

A pandemic had ruined many things for many people, and the most recent ruin back then had been Harry’s longest relationship. That’s what had brought him to a double bedroom in a shared house rather than a flat and his own fucking space. He couldn’t afford the latter.

It had been hot that night, moving into a new home in the darkness. He’d picked up the key from the owner, your dad it had turned out, and transferred his possessions from one place to another in the late night simply to avoid having to discuss his situation with people he didn’t know.

But yes, the heat is what had caused him to strip down to his underwear before passing out. The startled look on your face at the sight of him had absolutely been worth it. The sight of you had been worth it. Such a strong attraction to someone fresh after a breakup should be wildly inappropriate, but there you suddenly were, bare-legged and dangling yourself in front of him like a piece of string to a kitten. Still, the fact remained that Harry liked to think himself a gentleman. He tried to be a gentleman, and after living so close to you for so long, it didn’t take long to learn that you liked to keep to yourself. So he had done the same.

Until now, apparently.

“That housemate of yours here?”

Harry’s ears pricked up at the question like a cat’s would if it heard something interesting. He recognised the voice and hated the speaker. He always had. Today was no exception.

“Which one? I’ve got three of ‘em if we don’t include Abbie.” Rhys’s oblivious laughter filtered up the stairs to the sanctuary of the top floor.

“Well I ain’t talkin’ about the lads, am I?”

Harry shivered. He imagined if you could hear them then you would too.

“She’s here”, “Don’t bother,” came simultaneously from Rhys and Abbie. Abbie sounded almost defensive, and that pleased Harry to no end.

“Why not?”

“Because she isn’t interested.”

“Maybe you should let her decide that for herself.”

Unconsciously, Harry rose from the desk in his room and made his way across the hall to yours. The door was open, obviously.

You were sitting up with a book but you had earplugs in. Whether it was playing music or just to block out the noise from downstairs he wasn’t sure. As soon as you spotted him a small smile curved on your lips, and you pulled an earplug out. It was playing music.

Harry had never met anyone who could listen to music and read at the same time. There were surely plenty, but this put you in the Elite Tier in his head.

“What’s up?”

Footsteps began on the stairs, and Harry threw a cautionary glance over his shoulder before he slipped inside and closed the door behind him, sliding the lock across.

You were leaning forward now, a crease in your brow. “What’s going on?”

“Rhys’s friends are here.”

You blinked. “I know.”

“Yes but his idiot friends are here.”

You tipped your head. “I’m not following.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know… Gaz? The one with the teeth.”

“Oh. Right. Why not? He’s harmless, no?”

“Is he? I’m not so sure.”

Your name suddenly trilled from the floor below. “You home?”

You looked at the door as Harry moved to the side, dumbfounded. Harry shook his head at you when you began to move.

Why not? You mouthed.

Harry pretended to drink from an invisible glass and grimaced.

The idiot called your name again and knocked on the door. “Come on, come say hi.”

Harry was really scowling now. You flashed glances between him and the door multiple times.

“She’s probably asleep, mate!” Rhys hissed from outside the door. “She works early some Saturdays.”

That was not true. You’d never worked weekends, not even as a teen. It was Rhys’s smart ruse to get him to back off.

The door handle jostled. Harry suddenly looked more threatening than a mafia boss, and your jaw fell slack from shock.

“Oi,” smack, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What? Worth a shot.”

“No it fuckin’ weren’t, go downstairs.”

Some heated muttering commenced, but neither you nor Harry moved or spoke until you were satisfied they wouldn’t hear anything.

“Did he seriously just try and get in here?”

“While you were ‘sleeping’?” Harry air-quoted around the word. “Yes. He did. Hence the distrust.”

“What the fuck…”

He watched you for a moment and the look on your face said it all. You were upset, in a confused sort of way. Your mind was somewhere else, no longer in this room. Eyes glassy and breathing shallow.

Someone had tried to come into your personal space while they had the impression you were sleeping. If that had been the case there was no telling what would’ve happened. If Harry hadn’t come in you probably wouldn’t be any the wiser to Rhys’s friend’s real character, and that was what scared him. You had a tendency to put too much faith in people as just people. If someone was being nice to you that must mean that they are nice.

“What are you reading?” He asked into the silence, not only to break the quiet but to pull you out of the trance you’d been in.

“Oh, er,” you looked down at the book in your lap and turned it upwards, flashing the cover to him, “some daft romance.”

You put it aside after slotting the bookmark inside to keep your place. He smirked to himself. God forbid you dogear a page.

“Happy ending?”

You nodded, playing with your loose earbud. “Yeah. Has to be.”

“They’re my favourite.”

You gawked at him then. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Is that so shocking?”

You laughed musically. “I don’t know… I kind of assumed a guaranteed happy ending would irritate you or something.”

“Not at all. Sad endings are rubbish.”

“Aren’t they?” You patted the bed by your lap, suddenly animated. “I hate them.”

“Me too.”

“What are they for? No one wins, everyone is miserable, and someone has almost always died in the middle.”

He folded his arms, brows furrowed in a mock defence. “Now who hurt you? Tell me. Who do I need to beat up?”

“John Green.”

Harry scoffed. “He’s the worst.”

“Paper Towns? What the fuck was that all about?”

“Load of shit.”

“Exactly!”

He grinned, relaxing his posture. A commotion began downstairs, and he turned over his shoulder towards the door. Two phones dinged inside the room.

Blackpool Tower

🌝 🍻🍻➡️🌃➕👰🏼

You were being left alone. Thank God.

Harry met your gaze with a passive smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

“Wait…”

He raised a single brow at you. “Yes?”

“Why don’t we watch a movie? If they’re pissing off out…”

He was both surprised and elated by your suggestion. All he’d be doing otherwise was looking for flats to move into alone and listening to some murder podcast before passing out. Friday nights were raucous in one’s late twenties.

“Two movies.” He bargained. “One we can bitch about first, and then one we like to make ourselves feel better.”

Your returning smile was prizewinning. Priceless. “And… takeaway? I really don’t want to cook.”

He clicked and pointed a finger at you. “You’ve got yourself a deal, madam.”

This was a new low for you. Or perhaps it was a high - you hadn’t decided yet. Using the newfound common ground over a love of happy endings off the back of the fear of a mad man trying to let himself into your room to coax Harry into a movie night with you. In your room, no less. The house was empty yet you chose to suffer the shitty WiFi signal in your tower room because your bed was more comfortable than the communal sofa in the living room on the ground floor. The cold ground floor.

Now, after a shared pizza that was delivered in record speed, you and Harry lay parallel to one another as you batted bitchy comments between one another about the infuriatingly devastating plot of Atonement.

“I wanna smash her face into a wall.”

You nearly choked on your wine, and wiped a pre-existing tear off your cheek. “Harry,”

“What?” He whined. “Every time I get to the end and she tells the real story I see red. Why get people’s hopes up like that?”

His eyes were red around the rims.

You sat forward as the credits began to roll and looked at him with a timid smile. “Opinionated, aren’t you?”

He was draped across the left side of your bed closest to the door, legs crossed at the ankle and hands tucked behind his head against the headboard. He was close to slouched, but he looked so impossibly at ease you wanted to just nestle right into him.

You could do it. Nothing is stopping you.

You repressed a growl.

“Coming from you?” He retorted, amused.

Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him. “What’s next?”

He pursed his lips and gave a thoughtful look towards the ceiling. “Notting Hill?”

You gasped. “Fuck yes. Do you fancy dessert?”

“Always. What have you got?”

“I picked up a chocolate trifle on the way home from work.”

“That sounds dirty as fuck.”

“It is dirty as fuck.” You agreed and stood from your bed. “I picked it up on the way home with the intention of eating it all by myself, but… I’m willing to share.”

“How kind.” Harry chuckled. You felt his gaze on you leaving the room.

Two minutes later you returned with an unwrapped trifle and two spoons. Harry had already found Notting Hill on one of the many subscription sites you paid for and had it paused right at the start. He sat up straighter as you settled back down, pressed play, and then the two of you sunk into cake and gooey chocolate layered beneath sweet cream.

“Is Hugh Grant too posh?” Harry asked between mouthfuls.

“Yes, but it suits him?” Your question pondered. “Like, I couldn’t imagine him with a Scouse or Georgie accent.”

Harry’s returning laughter was delighted, magical. “This would be a very different film if he did.”

You gave a gutterall, mischievous laugh. “I would like to see it.”

Once you’d spoiled yourselves with trifle you settled back down, two parallel figures unmoving in the dim room, except to drink wine.

Harry was an ominous presence beside you. Warmth radiated off him in languid rolls, beckoning to you like an evil sea siren. Your hands fisted on your stomach, muscles tense. It really was taking everything in you not to lean into him and inhale his scent. Let it lull you to sleep like a safety blanket.

Occasionally you peeked glances at him. If he’d noticed you he never said anything, and it made you brave. After so long the film became background noise and Harry was the real star. A black t-shirt across a flat, muscular chest, steady breaths causing a rise and fall. Black jogging bottoms that rose higher up his legs with each slight movement, showing more scrumptious leg hair per inch. Big, boney, veiny feet with heinously long toes. Hair taken off his face with a tiny claw grip, a little greasy around the ears.

The overwhelming need to shove your face into his armpit finally gave motive to look away. Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts meant nothing anymore. There was a sexy man sprawled across your bed who ate your trifle and wanted to watch stupid rom-coms with you.

You fell asleep before the end.

Harry was sure he was dreaming. It wasn’t possible, the situation he found himself in. It was what he wanted, what he had really wanted for a while now, but the actual possibility of it coming to fruition had been next to none. Zero. Impossible.

He’d woken up in your room. That was the first tell that he was still dreaming. Then he found a warm body curled around him, and him around them in return. Your warm body. Leg draped over his thigh, arm slung across his torso, head tucked under his chin, his arms around your shoulders and inhaling your strawberry shampoo.

You were both still on top of the covers, neither able to finish the movie without passing out. He’d even noticed you had nodded off first but he didn’t want to leave you without making sure you’d lock the door behind you again in case Rhys and his idiot friends returned.

Huh. Maybe it wasn’t a dream. That was too accurate and not nearly lucid enough for an unconscious mind.

He didn’t want to move in case he stirred you, but he was desperate to see your face. Your beautiful, sleeping face. He refused to believe you’d cuddled up to him while conscious. Because it had been that way around - you were parked up on his side of the bed. His lips pricked upwards at the corners with that knowledge.

It was raining heavily outside. It fell against the window in loud smatters, the room cast in a dull grey tone. It made him want to squeeze you tighter, to keep you from any harm. He still refrained.

Eventually you woke. He could tell from the way your body tensed and your breath caught in your throat.

“Don’t freak out.” He mumbled, voice thick from lack of use.

You took in a deep, obvious breath. “No? Why not?”

“You don’t need to.”

“I think I do.”

“Explain, please.”

You hesitated, wetting your lips, and took in another deep breath. “I’ve embarrassed myself.”

“How?”

“I’ve put myself into your personal space without your permission.”

“You were unconscious.” He argued.

“Doesn’t make it any better. You should’ve run for the hills the second my foot touched your lovely hairy leg.”

Harry chuckled. He tightened his arm around you and brushed his nose through your messy hair. “Maybe I don’t mind you in my personal space. Maybe… I like it.”

“Do you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

He laughed again. “You’ve nothing to worry about.”

You sat up and faced him.

Gah. There you were. Puffy eyes, cracked lips, scruffy hair. His stomach did a backflip at the sight of you - a dream he had nightly. In equal measure, he missed having the warmth and weight of your body against him.

“Don’t think about it too much.” He gave you a gentle smile. “Nothing needs to be complicated.”

You remained silent, either awestruck or dumbfounded. He wasn’t sure.

He stood, reluctantly, and pinched your cheek. “You’re cute when you’re in shock.”

That sorted you out. Your face rearranged itself into a scowl, gaze following him as he left the room. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but such a conversation felt too poignant for 8 o’clock in the morning. You needed space to let your thoughts take over.

Cooking dinner and movie nights. That had become yours and Harry’s thing. After he’d dropped what you considered a bombshell that he didn’t mind you in his personal space you’d had the longest shower of your life - accidentally using all the hot water - and then spent the morning face down on your bed trying not to scream into your pillow.

Since then you’d been obsessively cleaning, more so than usual by way of distraction from the man living across the hall. The house was spotless. You’d even cleaned the windows at one point, outside, with help from your dad and looked at a way to fix the leaking problem in the empty bedroom.

It still didn’t stop your mind from constantly drifting back to the other morning. Waking up curled around Harry like that had been both terrifying and utterly perfect. For a man with such a hard physique he’d been incredibly comfortable. Too comfortable. Then he’d said a number of things that threw your somewhat orderly brain into complete disarray and chaos.

“You’re cute when you’re in shock.”

Harry hadn’t seemed to take his own words lightly, either. He’d been more comfortable in closer proximity with you since that morning, in the little things like light touches to your arms and back while you cooked together, or a kiss on the top of your head before you disappeared into your room for the night. Some nights you would share a bed after a movie because it was just easier - you were already settled, and you always woke up cuddled against him like a fucking creep.

“This,” Harry said as he pulled the oven door open, a waft of heat filling the cold room, “is gonna be fuckin’ banging.”

“Mhm.” You quipped, shoving a tortilla chip into some salsa, and then into your gob.

It was a Saturday night. By a freak stroke of luck, all the other housemates had gone away for the weekend - George to his parents’ and Rhys and Abbie on a weekend break to Amsterdam. So, a dinner and movie night had been a given, but you’d stuck a portable heater in the communal living room downstairs, found as many blankets as you could and piled them onto the sofa, then queued up enough movies to last all night.

Harry’s carefully crafted pizza sat atop the stove, cooked to perfection with your favourite ingredients on one half and his on the other. Your mouth watered.

You carried everything into the lounge, set it all up on the coffee table, and pressed play on your first movie of the night.

It was civil while you ate, and you were admittedly starving. To Harry’s credit the pizza was delicious and you wished it was bigger because you could’ve eaten another. You filled the hole in your stomach with tortillas and salsa instead. He graciously took all the dirty plates back into the kitchen when you were done, and returned with two bowls of strawberries, raspberries, and of course, watermelon. It was a very healthy dessert but the watermelon looked seriously out of place.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me eat your watermelon.” You joked. “Feels like a sacred honour.”

He snorted but remained silent.

Eventually, after all the food and a couple of glasses of wine, you were horizontal, your feet in Harry’s lap. He had his hands locked around your ankle after you accidentally kicked him in the thigh.

“If you were in a rom-com, who would you want to play your love interest?”

Harry pursed his lips. “Hugh Grant.”

You giggled, turning your face into the sofa cushion. “90s or current Hugh Grant?”

“90s. Current Hugh Grant is into much more sophisticated roles that I don’t care for. Even if they are generally great films.”

“I see…” you mused.

He squeezed your ankle, a smile flirting on his lips. “No, I don’t know. Who’s queen of romantic comedies? Reese Witherspoon? J-Lo?”

“Oh my God, I love J-Lo.” Your voice was a dreamy, breathy sound.

“A fine woman indeed.”

“I love it when you talk like it’s the 1800s.”

He laughed so loudly it was almost a bark. “Noted. Who would you want to play opposite?”

“Sam Claflin.”

“The king of rom-coms.”

“Exactly. Very easy on the eye.”

Harry was smirking again. His hands were moving now, smoothing up and down your leg in easy strokes.

Thank fuck you shaved, you little scruffy bear.

You mentally flicked your inner tormentor behind her ear.

The film played on and held your attention for some time. You were possibly the most relaxed you’d been for a very long time. Not one muscle in your body felt tight.

Harry’s lackadaisical caressing continued, which you were still half-conscious of. It was nice to be touched that way - you don’t think you ever had been. You didn’t panic until you realised he’d been venturing just a touch further up your leg with every stroke; until his fingers tickled your thigh.

You gasped, grabbing his wrist, wrenched yourself upright.

Heat flooded your centre, slick and warm. It was so instantaneous it took you by surprise, and your cheeks burned, the tips of your ears warm.

His eyes were on you, wider than usual. “Sorry,” he tried to speak but it only came out in a whisper.

What is wrong with you, woman? You wanted this.

The inner tormentor was right. You had wanted it, and for quite some time. But the advance of it had taken you so completely off-guard that your body had reacted before your brain did.

“Shouldn’t have done that.” Harry muttered, a furrow between his brow. He was angry with himself.

Finally you managed to shake your head. You managed to manoeuvre yourself by taking one leg - the leg he still had his hand on because you were keeping it there - off his lap and tucked it under itself. You pressed his palm flat against your skin, smoothing over each of his long fingers in turn, and met his intense gaze.

You were much closer now, faces and bodies mere inches from each other. You could feel his breath against your face, and you knew he could feel yours too from the way his eyelids fluttered with each exhale. Shiny eyelids, you noted.

He slowly closed the space to brush his nose upwards against yours, and your next exhale was much shakier.

“What are we doing?” You asked.

“Whatever you want.”

You wanted many, many things. And 99% of them involved him.

You licked your lips, and his gaze dropped to them at the action. Your stomach squirmed and your inner voice squealed with nerves.

Harry placed his other hand firmly on your hip and tugged, and you spilled over his lap, straddling him with your hands using his shoulders for balance. Another gasp fell out of you at the feeling of a certain something between your legs. A certain hard something.

“Is this okay?” He asked, both hands tentative on your thighs.

“Mhm.” You managed.

His hands spread wider, and you grew wetter, breathing heavier

He swallowed thickly. “Can I kiss you?”

All you could do was nod.

You noticed the beginning of a smile before his mouth was on yours. That mouth you’d thought of many times, at all hours, on all days of the week. And it was finally on yours, and perfect too. Soft, big, spongy. It felt like heaven against your own.

He took his time, leisurely testing the waters with you. What you would allow and what you wouldn’t. What you liked and what you didn’t.

You liked all of it.

His tongue was reverent as it eased your lips open, but thorough once you’d granted him access to you. He tasted like strawberry and watermelon, a delicious combination. A lethal combination.

His hands still smoothed over your thighs, reaching for your arse but never quite making it there. He didn’t want a repeat of the previous reaction from you.

You held onto him tightly, hands squeezing over his shoulders in an accidental but welcomed massage. You wanted to touch him everywhere but weren’t sure if he was okay with it.

“I never thought I’d be able to do this with you.” Harry’s voice was gruff, strained. He spoke against your lips.

“Neither did I.” You said breathily.

“Thought about it a lot.”

“Me too.”

He groaned into your mouth, hands rising to your hips and waist, tugging on your loose t-shirt.

You continued kissing, mouths bruising with lust, skirting around the removal of clothes. His arousal only got harder between your legs and it made you wriggle. Your wriggling caused friction, and the friction caused whimpers.

“I won’t last if you make noises like that.”

This information gave you immense satisfaction. He practically ate the smile off your face, and you wriggled again over the top of him. More whimpers, more movement. Back and forth, back and forth until you were utterly soaked inside your pyjama shorts.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed.

“Harry,” you moaned, fisting his t-shirt at the chest.

“Keep going.” He practically begged.

You gave a frustrated noise and did as he said, rolling your hips over the length of his clothed shaft. Over and over and over again. Tits began to bounce. Back began to sweat. Toes began to curl.

Harry stripped you of your top and buried his face in your chest. Kissing, licking, sucking, bruising. A canvas of vivid colour. He dragged his lips across any inch he could, leaning forward, arching you backwards, just to access more. More more more.

Rolling, dragging, rolling and dragging your dampness against his erection. It was your sole focus. You needed it - the release you hadn’t felt for some time. You were always too nervous to masturbate with only two walls and doors separating you and Harry. You needed this more than anything else.

He held onto your back with one strong arm, hand gripping your waist while his other cupped your breast, and he took your nipple into his mouth without any further hesitation. Lick, suck, lick.

You squealed at the sensation, grabbed his face and brought his mouth back to yours. Faster faster faster you moved your hips and devoured his mouth until-

“Harry!”

Heat burst through your body, crashing through every cell, corner and crevice. You were tense as you came, clinging to Harry as tightly as possible. Then, as breath left you, you fell limp against him.

Harry stroked your hair and kissed your temple. His nose drew circles on your cheek.

When you pulled back, thoughts catching up to you, you looked confused.

“What?” He asked, head tipped to one side.

“This doesn’t make sense to me.”

“What doesn’t?”

“This,” you pointed between him and you.

“Why doesn’t it?”

“Because,” you gestured at him and then dropped your hands to your lap, “have you seen you?”

“Many times.”

You gave an exasperated sigh. “I’m serious, Harry. People that look like you aren’t interested in people who look like me.”

“What a horrifically outdated cliche.” He said in a flinchingly bored tone. “For the record, I think you’re bloody gorgeous. Have done since the day I met you.”

“Why?”

“Because I do! Life is too fucking short to let society dictate who is attractive enough to date who.”

You made a face, one where your eyebrows and your mouth stretched. “Yes, but-,”

“-No buts. I fancy the pants off you and that’s all you need to know.”

“Are you sure?”

He laughed. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t have let you do what you just did if I wasn’t sure. Would I?”

“I don’t know… some men are pigs.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Look,” he took your face in his hands, “some men are indeed pigs. But I like you. A lot. And I’ve had fantasies a hell of a lot like what we just did together for a damn embarrassing amount of time. About you. That’s all you need to know. Ever since I met you, I’ve been all about you.”

You pulled your lips between your teeth and stared at his chest, unseeing. Giddiness filled your tummy and white noise flooded your ears.

Harry picked up your hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. He watched you closely as he peppered kisses to your skin. “You’re thinking too hard, but I get it.”

“I think too hard about everything.” You mumbled. “Especially when it comes to you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I don’t know but I’ve always thought about you more than I’d like to.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You’re very distracting.”

“Sounds like a compliment to me.” He said, and pecked your nose. “Shall we finish our movies and go to bed?”

Involuntarily, and as if prompted by the suggestion, you yawned. “Probably a good idea.”

Harry smiled, wrapped his arms around your middle and squeezed you tightly to his solid frame. “Let’s do it.”

Harry worked late a lot over the next week or so. He hated it mostly because it meant less time with you. Less conscious time, anyway. For the first few nights he’d come home to find you asleep and couldn’t bear the idea of accidentally waking you up, but after sharing a bed with you for so many nights now, it had been a hard drug to quit.

It was late now, well past midnight and you’d probably fallen asleep hours ago. But seeing you curled up and facing the window, sheets bunched up to your chin and face buried in your pillow, he couldn’t help himself.

He quietly stripped out of his clothes, save for his boxers, shut the door behind him and slid into bed beside you. He surrounded you with his warmth - arms around your middle and his face pressed between your shoulder blades. He tugged you backwards until your bodies were flush together, chest to back, and sponged a wet kiss into your shoulder.

You did rouse a little, giving out a soft, sleep-filled squeak. “Hi.”

He smiled, leaving another kiss closer to your neck. “Hi.”

“Wondered when you’d be back.” You said around a content sigh.

“And me.”

You giggled. You took a hand that clasped around your chest and brought it up to your lips. “Tried to stay awake for you but failed.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.”

He littered more kisses against your skin, because he could just never get enough of you. “Thank you.”

“Pleasure.”

“Now go back to sleep.”

“Yes sir.”

“You look different.”

You frowned, meeting your sister’s scrutinous eyes between washing a saucepan clean. You were washing, she was drying, like you always did. You didn’t trust her enough to actually clean the dirty tableware. Sometimes she didn’t properly dry things either, but you’d make the most of what you could.

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “You’ve got a kind of… air about you.”

“Right…”

“Hey,” your dad appeared, nudging your sister’s arm, “maybe she’s got a boyfriend.”

Embarrassed heat filled your body.

“No, that’s not it.” Your sister shook her head. “Anyway, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

“I don’t…” you didn’t know how to finish that.

Perhaps your many nights sharing a bed with Harry had been what she was talking about, but the label of boyfriend/girlfriend definitely hadn’t come up yet. You just liked each other. A lot. Add that to the fact that any night you shared a bed with him you didn’t wake up in cold sweats or choked screaming fits, it wasn’t exactly something you planned to stop doing any time soon.

“Oh my God, don’t overthink it like you do everything else. It’s a compliment. Take it.” She rolled her eyes.

“Aye, don’t be snotty.” Dad swatted your sister’s arm.

“I’m not!”

Your sister was younger than you, and for all eternity most definitely cooler. She was in school and that hadn’t changed into adulthood. It didn’t particularly bother you. Generally you got on very well, she just didn’t have a problem opening her mouth when she had an opinion.

“Anyway, don’t forget family dinner night. Next Friday?” Dad reminded you.

Ah yes. Family dinner night was not here at Dad’s house with just you and your sister. It was at the house with Dad, your sister, and all the housemates. George proclaimed it his favourite time of the month, because Dad, an ex-chef, always cooked. Harry, because of his often awkward shift work, was almost always absent.

“Okay.” You nodded.

After finishing your last dirty dish, you pulled your phone out.

Blackpool Tower

👑 ❌😃

Sometimes a text simply couldn’t be written exclusively in emojis, so you’d come up with a rule whereby if you needed to write one, you’d send a ❌😃 to alert them.

👑 Family dinner night next Friday. Be there or be square 💘

👰🏼 🤯🤩🤯🤩🤯

🌚 🎉🎉🎉

“You’re still doing the emoji thing?” Your sister asked with a narrowed gaze.

“We have another bet running to see who’ll crack first.”

“Right… will everyone come?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“That’s me asking if Harry will be there, by the way.” She said with a smirk, nudging your arm.

If you didn’t know any better you’d be hot under the collar thinking she was onto you. The mention of his name got you flustered anyway, but you did know better. As any sensible woman would, your sister had a little thing for Harry that she’d never shied away from.

“I don’t know.” You repeated, somewhat irritated.

“Well, find out! Do I need to make an effort or not, you know?”

“I mean… he doesn’t usually come. So probably not.”

“Double check. To be safe. Or give me his number.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Bore.” She scoffed, and swished away.

Sundays were laundry day. Harry knew this, which is why he’d never do his on the same day. Everyone in the house knew that first thing on a Sunday morning you would head down to the basement with a book and a basket full and sit there until everything had been through the tumble dryer (unless it was delicate in which case you’d air it in your window for the day).

Today, though, Harry travelled from the top of the house to the very bottom and slipped inside the utility room, closing the door behind him before any of the other housemates could hear him.

“What are you doing?” You asked, voice light with laughter.

Harry’s gaze rested on you, full of some kind of infatuation. You were sitting atop the industrial-size tumble dryer in the far corner of the room, back against the wall and knees up, book held against your thighs.

He shrugged. “Wanted to come irritate you a bit.”

“You never irritate me.”

He grinned and put himself in your personal space. He found your bookmark and placed it between the pages, and then took it away, abandoning it. “Are you sure?”

You let him manoeuvre you; pulled you forward a little and spread your knees apart. Your legs fell over the side, resting either side of his hips, and your breathing quickened. He placed one hand on your thigh and the other stroked over your cheek.

“Feel free to interrupt laundry day any time you want.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You laughed at his mock genuine tone and brushed your fingertips against his lips. “You know, my sister has a massive thing for you.”

He stood quietly for a fraction of time, gaze assessing. “I would tease you about it but I just can’t. I kind of already guessed.”

“Did you?”

“Mhm. She’s not exactly subtle.”

“No, she’s not. She asked me for your number.”

“Did you give it to her?”

“What do you think?” You rolled your eyes.

He smirked. “You getting possessive of me?”

“Maybe. But she’s too self-absorbed to realise. She thinks I’m doing it because giving out your number willy nilly is morally wrong. Which it is. But yeah, I also just don’t want her to have it.”

His lips tightened, nose flared, eyes light - batting away a smile. “I think I like this side of you.”

You gave an uncharacteristic grunt, but your eyes never left him. “You look like a frog when you make that face.”

His face neutralised and he sucked in a breath. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

This visibly delighted you. “Maybe I’ll start calling you Froggy.”

“Too far.” He pinched your waist

You giggled, hands pressed against his chest. Your palms felt warm over his t-shirt and he never wanted you to take them away.

“How long left on your cycle?”

“Er…” your gaze dipped downwards to the screen on the washing machine. “Like, 20 minutes probably.”

“And then it’s going in the tumble dryer?”

“Yes… why?”

“Because,” he pecked your lips once, “I think I know,” he kissed your left cheek, “something we can do,” then your right cheek, “while we wait.”

Your gaze was curious and intense as he started sponging his lips down your front, from neck to chest to stomach. You reclined some, breathing heavy, and he pulled your legs up by the ankle and planted your feet back on top of the dryer.

“Oh,” you spoke, voice caught.

“You okay with this?” He asked hesitantly.

Even though you’d been sleeping side by side something close to 5 nights a week, your little dry humping session last weekend was as far as you’d gone in the sexual intimacy department.

You made a strangled noise. “Christ, yes.”

Grin fully spread across his face, he smoothed his palms up your thighs to your hips and tucked his fingers into the silky waistband of your pyjama bottoms.

“Can we take these off?”

You hummed an affirmed noise, and lifted your arse off the surface. In one smooth pull he had the garment off your legs and over his shoulder, probably in the same vicinity of the book he’d taken off you.

He met your gaze with a lifted brow. “Not a fan of knickers?”

“Not in my jim-jams, no.”

His smile blossomed like daffodils in spring. “That’s either the cutest or sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”

“Can we go with sexy considering what I hope you’re about to do?”

“Sure thing, cutie.”

You squealed a little at the name, but he couldn’t tell if you loved it or hated it. Regardless, he kept a firm grip on your legs and lowered his lips to your knee. In a slow, measured movement, he kissed his way up the inside of your legs with his hot, wet mouth.

Your breath was laboured as you watched him, eyes wide when he met your gaze again but so incredibly keen. To prove it, you pushed a hand through his curls and massaged his scalp, coaxing him forward.

“I’ve wanted to taste you for so fucking long.” He admitted, mouth dragging over the softest part of your thigh.

His hot breath fanned against your waiting lips and you visibly clenched.

“I’ve wanted you to, believe me.” Your voice was but a rasp.

“Yeah?” He sighed happily, left hand moving closer to your centre. He extended his thumb out, “Are you wet for me?” He pulled your lips apart, and the noise he made at the sight of you was practically carnal.

“Harry,” you whimpered, tugging on his hair.

He hummed again, face inching closer to your dripping lips. He licked between you, wetness collecting on his tongue. The taste of you was something better than he could’ve ever imagined and he growled because of it. He gripped your legs tighter, hesitant no more, and buried his face right between your soft thighs.

“Oh, God,” you whined. Your head lolled backwards and both fists found purchase in his beautiful hair, twisting and tugging.

He grunted in response to you, spurred on. He collected as much of your juice as he could, firm stroke after firm stroke of his perfectly capable tongue.

He played with your clit in a way that made you squirm and squeal, eliciting the most delectable little noises out of your hoarse throat. Harry didn’t hold back - he never had in that department. He went for it completely and utterly.

The washing machine launched into rapid spinning, filling the room with wheezing, screaming noises.

“Harry, don’t stop.” You begged, body rigid with desperate tension.

He obeyed your every word. He spread your legs further and further with his digging grip. He burrowed his face into your cunt, tongue plunging inside of you and spading inside your heat like a desperate gardener.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you panted as you lifted your head again to watch him.

His eyes were already on you, dark and hooded and filled with keen lust. His head moved with an eager precision like his mouth did. He wanted you this way. He’d wanted it for so long he couldn’t quite believe he was getting it. You were a goddess, ethereal and perfect.

The washing machine’s cycle reached its peak, vibrating harshly beside the two of you. It was deafening yet the least bit distracting.

Harry pursued his advances on your cunt relentlessly and without breath until your body went rigid and then shuddered. You screamed his name, withholding nothing, any cries drowned out by the washing machine. Your body visibly vibrated like the machine beside you, and eventually your limbs weakened to jelly.

Harry stood straight and helped you sit up again, wrapping his arms around your middle. He tucked your head into his neck and twisted his face into your hair.

“You’re right, that was incredibly sexy.” He mumbled.

He revelled in your returning laughter, the sound light and airy. You showed no shame in clinging onto him, fingers raking through the curls at the back of his neck.

“Maybe you can do it again later.” You suggested, lips sponging against the skin on his neck.

“Any time you like.”

After another minute or so you pulled away, eyes scouring his face. “You’re a mess, sir.” You commented as you wiped your thumb around his shiny mouth.

He made a wordless noise, held your wrist, and took your thumb in his mouth. “I’ll be a mess for you.”

“Perhaps I’ll be a mess for you, too.”

His brows shot up and it made you laugh. “It’s cruel to joke about that.”

“I’m not joking.”

He gave you a challenging look.

“Want me to prove it?” You offered.

Was it even worth the question? “Always.”

You grinned. “Let me put my washing in the dryer and I will.”

He took a step back and bent at the waist, arms extending like he was bowing. “M’lady.”

You hopped down from where you’d been sitting and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Sir.”

The kitchen was a hive. And a mess. There was shit everywhere and your anxiety was through the roof just looking at it. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight because any kitchen your dad found himself in nowadays ended up looking like a pig sty but it didn’t settle the tightness in your chest.

He moved around the room with chaotic precision while you trailed after him tidying up any unnecessary mess, and your sister sat at the dining table Rhys and George had brought up from the basement an hour ago, scrolling through her phone.

“What about him?” Your sister flashed her screen to the two of you, the next Tinder profile filling it.

Your dad leaned over and squinted. “His eyes are too far apart.”

“Ugh. Knew you were gonna say that.” She grumbled.

This was a game you played regularly. Your sister would showcase potential Tinder matches either for her or for you (which you always declined to comment on), and your dad would garner his unfiltered opinion. It was probably a big part of the reason you were both still (technically) single. No one was ever good enough. That, and you didn’t have a Tinder account. Or any dating app account, actually.

“Him?” She flashed the next profile to you both.

Cute. But…

Not Harry.

Your inner tormentor smirked.

“What’s his anthem?” Dad knew all the terminologies now for the dating app world. He liked to call Hinge ‘UnHinged’, because that’s what the suitors on there usually were.

“Um… Wonderwall.”

You gagged, and Dad scoffed. “Next.”

You carried on for a little while, joining in when you felt like it but mostly just trying to keep the kitchen at an acceptable level of clean.

Rhys, Abbie and George were upstairs getting themselves ready for dinner as if it was some kind of gala they were about to attend. They did it everytime; dinner with Dad felt like an occasion. Harry wasn’t home and you hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask if he was going to be. He left at such a weird time this morning you couldn’t figure out what shift he was on and how that would affect his ‘home time’.

“Lay the table please, poppet?” Your dad asked of your sister, because he knew it was the only task she’d willingly do.

She leapt to her feet in a dramatic flurry and made for the cutlery draw. “Have we got enough for matching sets?”

“Very unlikely.” You muttered. You hadn’t eaten dinner with matching cutlery since you moved in.

The front door opened, cold air blustering in and mixing with the heat of the kitchen. Harry stepped in, bundled up in a big coat and rucksack slung over one shoulder.

“Hope I’m not late.” He said in a gravelly voice, smile sheepish.

“Harry!” Dad greeted him with complete joy. “Wasn’t expecting you, what a nice surprise.”

Your sister looked flustered all of a sudden. She’d convinced herself he wasn’t coming. Part of you had, too.

“I’ll just change and be back down.”

“Sure, we’ve got a bit of time yet.” Dad waved him away.

You’d pretended to busy yourself, but you watched as he headed for the stairs and caught the subtle wink he gave you.

Ah shit.

“What am I going to do?” Your sister panicked. “I'm a disaster - I look hideous.”

“No you don’t.” You grumbled. She’d never looked hideous in her life.

“Can I borrow some makeup?”

It was easier to just give her what she wanted rather than fighting her on it. “Sure - what do you need?”

She listed off a bunch of makeup items, most of which sounded completely foreign so you were sure you didn’t have them. You’d just give her your entire makeup bag and let her do what she wanted.

You knocked on Harry’s door before you went back down, makeup bag in hand. He opened in just his jeans, a light straight-leg pair with gaping holes at the knees.

“Hey,” he smiled, and rested an arm against the doorframe.

“Hi… I thought you’d be working late?”

He shook his head. “I was supposed to be. Swapped my shift ‘cause I always miss family dinner.”

“I see… well, you’ve successfully panicked my sister.”

“That was my plan all along, actually.”

“Mhm, sure.” You bit away a smirk. You liked this playful side of him a lot. “If you need half an hour to mentally prepare… I’d take it.”

“Noted, thank you.”

You left him to change and made your way back downstairs. Your sister eagerly took your makeup from you and dashed to the bathroom on the first floor.

Neither she nor Harry, or anyone else for that matter, came down until it was time to sit down.

Your dad sat at the head of the table as he always did, spread laid out in front of you in the middle. You sat to your dad’s right on the corner, and your sister to the left. You knew she was going to try and save the seat on her other side for Harry, but George ended up taking it instead, which visibly irritated her. She did have a particular ‘gay man’s best friend’ vibe about her - they flocked to her like sheep. Abbie sat at the other head, Rhys on her left, and then Harry sandwiched between Rhys and you.

He squeezed your thigh under the table, and you tried to pretend like it didn’t have some obscene effect on your intimate places. You lightly kicked his shin and started piling food onto your plate.

Like some kind of mafia father, your dad went around the table and asked all of the housemates for an update on their lives. He liked to do this, and fortunately your housemates liked pleasing him. He was a good landlord, and that showed by the way they gravitated towards him. He probably wouldn’t do this sort of thing if you weren’t living there, but he had a responsibility to them as tenants as well as you, his eldest daughter.

When you were done eating you sat back in your chair and put your hands in your lap. Harry didn’t hesitate to take one in his own and link your fingers. You peeked up at him as subtly as possible, unable to fight the giddy warmth that spread through you. He didn’t meet your gaze for the sake of keeping everyone else out of your business, but he did squeeze your hand, which only made the airy, slightly delirious feeling inside of you that much stronger.

Your sister spent 20 minutes talking about herself without breath, and as self-absorbed as she was, she was harmless, really. Not to mention entertaining. You never laughed as much as you did when she had her mouth open.

“Harry, you should come to these more often.” She said to him, batting her eyelashes.

You were about to walk her and your dad to the car and send them on their way. Harry was trying his absolute hardest to escape.

He cleared his throat. “I probably should, yeah.”

“It was good having an extra nice body.”

You gave her a look, brow raised. She shrugged. “I think it’s home time, no?” You prompted, gripping her arms and nudging her away.

“Fine.” She huffed, and began walking towards the street. “Bye team!”

Most people had already disappeared to their rooms but you had to admire her spirit. Dad was already gone, eager to go to bed.

You were halfway to the car when your sister asked, “So are you gonna tell me or what?”

You met her gaze with another raised brow. “Tell you what, exactly?”

“Mate,” she swatted my arm, “I am not an idiot. I know when I’m not wanted, because it’s not often.” She could not get any more vain if she tried. “I always did wonder what I had to do to get Harry’s attention better, and today I finally figured it out. I need to be you.”

Ah. Not as ignorant as she appears, then.

You pressed your mouth closed, looking away. “Er,”

“Don’t ‘er’ me. I saw that wink he gave you when he got home, but I thought he was just trying to wind me up. And then he sat next to you, not by choice it seemed, but there was barely an inch of space between you and practically a metre between him and Rhys. Then he just didn’t stop looking at you, even though he pretended he wasn’t. Let me tell you, that boy has not learned the art of subtlety.”

She turned to you then, a searing gaze heavy. “Look, I don’t know if you’re aware of it, or if you’re already shaggin’ him and lying to me about it-,”

“-We’re not having sex.” Yet.

“Okay, fine. Whatever. Just do something about it, please. If I can’t have him you should. Don’t let a man that beautiful go to waste. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good.” She huffed, and then pulled you in for a tight hug. “Fed up of seeing you alone and underselling yourself. You’re hot shit! I know it, and Harry clearly knows it.” She suddenly takes your face in her grasp. “So do something about it.”

You appeared in the doorway of Harry’s room around 20 minutes later, fresh-faced and in your PJs. He was reading in bed, having stolen a book out of your cupboard.

“Is he secretly in love with her?” He asked without taking his eyes off the pages, his long finger brushing the spine.

You squinted at the title as you moved closer to him. “Yes. What made you pick that one?”

“Because it’s obviously your favourite.”

“How’d you work that one out?”

“The spine is cracked beyond belief. It’s nearly falling apart.”

“I might’ve bought it from a charity shop.”

He lifted a brow. “Did you?”

“No.”

He put the book aside, focussing all of his attention on you. You’d sat down cross-legged on top of the covers, and you wore a calm yet unreadable expression. There was a hint of something in your eyes. Infatuation, maybe?

“What’s going on?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Nothing. I’m just… happy.”

“Me too.”

You remained quiet for a moment, gazing at one another in a comfortable silence. Eventually, Harry opened his arms in request of your embrace, and you gave it to him without hesitation. You settled against him, head tucked under his chin.

“I like this, Harry. Us.”

“So do I.” He nodded, pressing his lips into your hair. “A lot.”

“You make it easier.”

“Make what easier?” He asked, and then held his breath.

A beat passed. “Life. Sleeping. Consciousness. Cooking. Just… being.”

“That’s a very big compliment.”

“I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

When you peered up at him, he lowered his mouth to yours for a slow and tender kiss. It wasn’t abrasive or demanding; it was perfect. Full of an understanding that neither of you expected to find in another person.

“Tell me about your nightmares.”

“I don’t have them when I’m with you.” You admitted, as if he hadn’t already worked it out. When he didn’t respond to you, you reluctantly continued. “They’re about my mum. She died in a car accident a few years ago and I dream about it sometimes.”

Harry’s heart found its way into his mouth. “You were there?”

“No. My sister was. I was with dad - it was a weekend. Me and dad at his work cooking, mum and my sister shopping in town. Were on their way back and someone just ploughed into the side of the car, driver’s side. She died on impact and my sister was in hospital for a week.”

Harry held onto you tighter, his lips against your temple. “I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“It’s okay…” you swallowed, body tensed in stillness. “I dream about that day a lot. Mostly the part where Dad broke the news to me. Seeing my sister in the hospital plugged in and drugged up. The funeral; the look on Dad’s face. I wake up crying more than screaming, usually.”

He took a deep breath, and he clung to you like you might disappear. “I’m really sorry. Sorry that happened to you and your family, and that you have to relive it most nights. That’s not fair.”

You met his gaze, cupping his cheek. “Ever since we started doing… this, I haven’t had a single one. Not even on the nights we don’t share a bed. I don’t know why, I guess my conscience has decided it’s safe with you. And I do feel safe with you.”

“Then I will stay with you every night to make sure you never have a bad dream again.” He vowed, turning his head enough to kiss your palm. “I like knowing that you feel safe with me. S’a pretty big compliment.”

“I’m full of those when it comes to you.”

His chest swelled, a helpless smile on his face. “Even when you tell me I look like a frog.”

You snorted and hid your face in his chest. “You do, though.”

“Okay, thank you.” He huffed, feigning offence, but he didn’t let you go; didn’t loosen his hold on you.

You talked late into the night until you fell asleep, wrapped around one another and bundled under his bedclothes. Having you so close and being so open gave Harry a sense of clarity. He’d had an attraction to you since the day he met you, but this was turning into something more. Feelings were now coming up to bat, and he had a pretty solid idea of where they were heading.

“You are filthy.”

You wiped your brow, meeting Abbie’s gaze with indifference. “I am not letting this garden turn into a jungle again like it did last year.”

“I know, but I’ve never seen you so dirty. You’re the cleanest person I know.”

“Believe me, I’ll be jumping straight in the shower once I’m done.”

It was the warmest day of spring so far, and for once it wasn’t raining, so you’d taken the opportunity the second you had it to get outside and sort the garden out. The winter had turned it into a tangled overgrown mass of green mess, and you’d been desperate to get it sorted.

Abbie had offered to help but had realised very quickly that she was out of her depth, and eventually offered moral support in lieu of the physical kind. You didn’t mind the company - it beat waiting inside for Harry to come home, alone all day.

You chopped away at the forest that had grown, turned the soil over when you found it, and potted some new plants to give it some life. By the time Harry came home your legs were covered in dirt, cuts and fresh bruises, nail beds black, hair full of dead foliage, and just downright sweaty.

Abbie had surrendered to the house to be entertained by Rhys, and George wasn’t home. He was never home much anymore, you were all under the impression he had a boyfriend.

Harry helped you to your feet where you were kneeling in the soil, eyes giving you a thorough once over. “You look…”

“Filthy. Yes, I know.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I like it.”

“Really?”

He followed you as you collected your gardening tools and hid them in the shed tucked against the side of the house. “Absolutely. You’re so clean and put together all the time, it’s kinda nice seeing you a bit roughed up.”

You hummed out a laugh. “Interesting.”

Harry boxed you up against the wall, out of sight of any of your nosey housemates. His hips trapped yours, hands holding your sides at the ribs. Without a hint of hesitation, he pressed his mouth to yours, eagerness overpowering tenderness.

You simply let him, never one to deny the most handsome man you knew a hot and heavy kiss. You enjoyed being wanted by him. Who the fuck wouldn’t?

“I’ll let you go shower.”

“Okay.” You murmured, delirious.

He pulled away, giving your hip one last squeeze before he vanished into the house. You spent five more minutes in the garden making sure you’d tidied up after yourself, and took some pictures to send to your dad.

Your shower was longer than you’d have liked thanks to the state of you, and in turn it took you longer to clean the bathroom down than usual. You were starving by the time you got back to the top floor.

Harry was at his desk when you slipped inside his room, browsing something on his laptop.

His room and yours were polar opposites of one another. Where you hid all your belongings, made your bed and kept things as minimal as possible, Harry had more shit than necessary. A bulging wardrobe, unmade bed, things everywhere. He was a man with stuff, and lots of it. Sometimes it made you itch. But he wasn’t dirty in any capacity. It smelled of fresh linen and clean air all the time.

“Do you feel better?” He asked, closing the lid on his laptop again.

“Mm. Loads better.” You gave him a warm smile as you perched on the edge of his bed.

He rolled over to you but abandoned the chair halfway to stand up. Then he crawled over you, forcing you to lie backwards and caged you against the bed.

“You smell amazing.” He said with a voice like gravel.

You ran a hand down his front and slipped it under his t-shirt, trailing your fingertips over his chest. “Thank you,”

He lowered onto his forearm, face an inch from yours and groin against your pelvis. You inhaled sharply, noticing the very obvious stiffness coming from Harry’s midsection. His hand smoothed the length of your side, down your thigh to your knee and then back up again to your arse.

He met your mouth with a kiss, deep and hungry. Dizzying. He led and he was all over you, tongue devouring yours.

“It was a lot harder than it should’ve been to not follow you into the shower.” He admitted.

You let out a soft whine and fisted his t-shirt, pulling him flush against your chest. You wanted to feel the weight of him on you. “You should’ve.”

He returned that with a growl, and his hand on your arse gripped tighter. Your name tumbled off his lips in a husky plea, “I want you so fuckin’ bad.”

Hooking your legs around his hips and pushing his centre against yours, you gave him the silent go-ahead. You looped your arms around his shoulders, fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’m right here, and you can have me.”

Something inside Harry snapped. Any reservations about your desire for him vanished. His kisses became punishing and carnal. His hands on you a little rougher than before, than ever. Possessive.

You helped him out of his top and in turn he helped you out of yours. You scooched backwards up the bed as he drank you in. It wasn’t lost on you that this was the first time he’d seen your top half naked. Somehow, amongst all the nights of bed-sharing, you’d never been fully naked.

His eyes were dark, hooded. He looked at you like you were his last meal, and honestly you lived for it. You wanted to die under that gaze.

“You’re so sexy.”

You bit away a timid, flustered smile. Bashfulness wasn’t sexy.

He stalked you like a wild cat as you lay back. His mouth and hands descended on you again, searching and exploring every inch of you, searing hot and wet kisses into your skin.

His hands slipped into your pyjama bottoms, feeling around your arse again before he tugged them down your legs, leaving you completely stark under his burning gaze. A strangled moan fell out of him while he regarded your naked form, hands smoothing and squeezing your hips, your waist, your boobs.

“You’re so fucking soft.” He said the words like praise.

You laid your hands on his as they travelled over you, and he pushed his mouth back to yours in that same eager dance as before. He ground himself against you, hard as a rock underneath his joggers, and it was doing all sorts to your core. Your heartbeat fell down and down again to your middle, slick heat flourishing between your legs.

“Please, Harry,” you begged him, pushing his hand down.

“What do you need?” He asked, a little cruelly, as if he didn’t know exactly what you needed.

“Touch me.”

The man gargled at you. He was fucking strangled. He traced between your thighs delicately to the point it tickled, and swiped a finger easily in a stripe up your folds, wetness collecting.

“Like that?”

“Yes.” You wriggled under him, desperate for more. “More.”

He played with your clit teasingly, enjoying the way you squirmed. “More?” He asked as he slid a finger into your waiting heat.

A small cry left you. It wasn’t enough and he knew it. “More.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?”

You whined. Now you were the one being carnal. You gripped his head tightly and kept your mouth to his, tongue abrasive and lashing.

While he wound you up in the most irritating way, you found your own ways to move him on. Your feet dug into the backs of his thighs and pushed downwards at an attempt to budge his joggers off. You didn’t want to wait anymore. You wanted him in all his solid glory, right now.

“Are you trying to take my bottoms off with your feet?”

“Yes.” You grunted.

“Oh,” he gave you a dark laugh as his kisses trailed back down your front, “that’s gonna cost you.”

He licked around your belly button, the warmth of his hands vanishing from your body to push his joggers down. He gave your cunt the shortest, most mind-blowing piece of attention with his mouth, dragging noises out of you that you weren’t even aware you could make. Then he turned you over without warning, on your front, and tugged your arse up to rest against his crotch.

You gasped, excited by the somewhat aggressive nature he’d taken on. Your Harry - soft and gentle as they got - man-handling you. You peered at him over your shoulder as he produced a square foil wrapper from somewhere and ripped it open with his teeth. He watched you watching him as he rolled it down his shaft, drawing your attention to it - visually, anyway - for the first time. You had to swallow the lump in your throat.

“This what you wanted, darlin’?” He asked as he smoothed his hand over your arse, but his gaze never left you. “You want me to fill you up with my cock?”

“God yes.” You said without a hint of a waver.

“You want it like this?” He lined himself up, fisting himself at the base, and glided the head of him through your wet, parted, waiting folds.

“Yes.” You whimpered. “Please. Please please please.”

He made that noise again, his large fist grabbing your hip as he hovered at your entrance, and then he thrust himself inside you.

A ripping, searing pain had you wanting to scream so loudly you had to shove your face into the mattress to muffle it. An ache blossomed in place of the initial pain, one that was all too familiar and yet quite unfamiliar. It had been absent, like a friend who lived too far away. Now it homed itself inside of you like it belonged there. Perhaps it did, and the only way to quell it was to entertain it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you feel good.” He hissed, his hands squeezing your hips and your bum in turn.

Harry pulled out, enough that only his head remained inside you, and then he gave another powerful thrust until he completely filled you. “So fucking good, my God.”

He started moving, in steady, sharp movements. He didn’t want slow. Hell, you didn’t want slow. You wanted fast and hot and sweaty, and that’s exactly what he gave you.

Harry started fucking into you so viciously you could feel it in every part of your body, from the jiggle of your tits to the shake of your arse to the rock of your hips. Oh, and the stretch of his cock as he buried deeper and deeper inside you. Every part of your body was aflame with need, a desire, a craving to be fucked into oblivion.

His hands were on your hips again, fingertips digging into your skin. He rocked you back and forth in time with his thrusts, not that you needed him to. You were doing that all on your own.

He grunted and hissed through every single powerful drive of his cock into your cunt, your name tumbling out of his mouth over and over again.

“Harry,” you whimpered, “harder.”

He growled and obeyed, pistoning inside of you.

“Yes, oh fuck yes.” You cried, head burrowing again.

You felt him on you, all over you then, his chest against your back, lips kissing your shoulders and his arms with a vice grip around your middle. His skin was tacky, as was yours. You were surrounded by a cloud of packed heat, like a humid summer day.

“You are…” Harry began to say, panting in your ear, and his head shook against you, “fuck, I can’t even think straight.”

You moaned, lifting up and twisting your head in search of him. He caught your chin and brought your lips to his in another deep, claiming kiss. You wanted every kiss to be like that from then on - owning, possessing, asserting. You were his and you wanted him to know it.

He gave another round of punishing thrusts before he made a winded noise, “Turn over,” he pleaded, “I want to see your face.”

A whimper fell out of your mouth when his thickness disappeared from inside you, and he helped you onto your back before he got straight back in there. He was low over you, chest on your chest, hand on the back of your thigh, and his eyes roamed your face while it contorted with pleasure.

He hooked your leg over his hip and went harder. Harder, faster, harder, faster. Your head lolled back and a string of curse words fell out of your mouth. His lips danced across your chest and you tangled your fingers in his hair to keep him there. There was nothing better than being worshipped by a mouth. Especially Harry’s mouth.

He licked and sucked over your skin until your boobs and sternum were littered with little purple spots of lust, and honestly you didn’t care. You wanted them all over you. You wanted yours all over him.

His hips never stopped moving - pushing, pushing, pushing you towards a beautiful, glorious high like a high-speed train ploughing towards a dangerous cliff edge. God, you wanted that edge and you wanted it now. You wanted to be flung off it whilst securely attached to the man currently pushing you there.

You pulled Harry’s mouth back to yours, holding your body to him as you clenched, milking him towards his end and yours. You needed it. Your head was about to explode with rampant thoughts and you needed to wash them away.

“Fuck, Harry,” you whispered, neck and shoulders spiked with heat. It radiated off you.

“I know.” He groused and bit your lower lip. “I’m fucking close. So fucking close, and I’m gonna blow if you keep doing that.”

“Please do it,” you begged, clenching again to feel his growl in your mouth, “come, Harry.”

And boy did he fucking come.

His body wracked with a shudder, movements ceasing as you wrapped yourself tightly around him. His muscles rippled beneath your fingertips while he came, oblivious to your own masterful undoing.

You calmed together, lips moving in tender kisses until your breath was caught again and your limbs were sore. You deflated when Harry abandoned you to clean himself up, and you dipped into your bedroom to do the same when you found the strength.

When he came back you snuggled up to him in his bed, between his legs with your head on his chest. His lips grazed through your hair, breathing light and content.

“I am… fucking obsessed with you.” He mumbled.

You traced your fingers over the hair and the swallows on his chest, a warmth filling you, like an acceptance. Being wanted hadn’t mattered to you until now. Until Harry.

“I… am also quite infatuated with you. And I have been for some time. Just… quietly.”

“You been sniffin’ my bed sheets while I’m at work?”

You giggled and nuzzled closer to him. “No. Not recently, anyway.”

“Not recently?”

“I’ve never sniffed your bed sheets, Harry.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“I’m weird, but I’m not that weird.”

“But you’ve been infatuated with me for ages.”

“Not enough to go into your room and sniff your bed sheets.”

“Did you do anything a bit weird?”

“No.”

“Really? Not even… a little… you know?”

You gave him a bewildered look, and he waggled his eyebrows at you.

Haha. You totally did that, you creep.

“Maybe.” You murmured, hiding your face again.

He chuckled and held onto you tightly. “I did, too. Feeling’s always been mutual, darlin’.”

You heaved a content sigh. “I’m glad it was. I really do like this. Us.”

“Me too.”

Harry had been living life with a permanent spring in his step. He had you, living in the same house and sharing a bed, cooking at dinner time, shagging at night time, and just generally being wonderful, fantastic, gorgeous, brilliant you.

Tonight you were at your dad’s house with your sister so he was cooking alone, but George was in the living room watching one of those daft culinary competition programs on Channel 4, the commentary filtering out with an occasional expletive. Abbie and Rhys were out but would likely be home soon. You’d be back eventually, too, and he liked knowing that nowadays you came home to him.

Rhys and Abbie came back first. Harry had decided to join George in the living room, too intrigued by the shouty drama on Come Dine With Me to ignore it.

Abbie gasped at the TV. “This is the one!” She squealed.

“What one?” Rhys demanded. “Oh, yes!”

“What am I missing?” Harry asked, a little bewildered.

George shushed everyone with a finger to his lips. “I’ve been talking him through it but I want him to see.” He flailed a hand in the couple’s direction.

All four pairs of eyes glued to the TV, a vetted interest in the argument unfolding. The contestants from that week’s episodes were gathering in the final host's living room, bank notes spread in a circle atop a silver tray and holding up a scroll wrapped in red ribbon.

The front door of the house opened again, and in you waltzed, a baffled look on your face. Very rarely did you come home to find everyone in the living room.

Abbie squeaked your name, begging you to join before it kicked off on the telly. “Come on, quick.” She patted the space between her and Harry, conveniently.

His eyes were no longer interested in the TV drama, only in you.

“In fourth place is… me.”

“Ah,” you said in recognition of the scene on the telly as you sat down. Your arm brushed against Harry’s as you tucked your right foot under your left thigh, and caught yourself before you settled into his side like you normally would.

A chorus of patronising oohs filled the room from the contestants on the screen. The host was shaking his head.

“Wait, is this the-,”

“You won, Jane.”

Barking laughter filled the room from the housemates, including Harry, but the host didn’t stop there.

“Dear Lord, what a sad little life, Jane.”

“You’ve got that on a T-shirt!” Harry swatted George’s arm.

“Damn right I do.” He grinned. “Cultural icon.”

“You, or the bloke having an aneurysm?”

“Both.”

“... grace of a reversing dump truck.”

More squeals filled the room, as if the entire scene hadn’t been a meme for years now.

Abbie patted your shoulder. “Did you see the video of Penn Badgley doing this?”

“Obviously.”

“Wait, I wanna see.” Rhys frowned.

Episode forgotten, Abbie found the clip on her phone and showed it to everyone.

“Oh my God, I think I’m going to hear it in that voice forever now.” George muttered, a wistful look in his eyes.

“Shall we watch a movie or something?” Abbie suggested, a hopeful look in her eye. “We never do anything all together… it would be nice.”

“I’m up for that.” Rhys grinned, because why would he ever turn down one of his girlfriend’s ideas?

“Yeah, me too.” George nodded.

All eyes turned to you and Harry. You couldn’t very well say no now, it would look odd. Especially if you both did, which is what you both wanted to do. There were two perfectly good beds upstairs, one of which needed to be destroyed. That wasn’t very well going to happen if you both sat on the couch and watched a film with your housemates.

“Yeah, sure.” You finally said, because you hated the way everyone was looking at you.

“Go for it.” Harry managed, much worse at hiding his disapproval than you were.

“How are we going to decide, then? ‘Cause I don’t really watch the horror films you two are into,” George pointed between Abbie and Rhys, “and Harry probably only watches underground indie movies or something.”

Harry had no idea what gave him that impression, but the laugh that came out of your mouth - hearty, loud and delighted - was worth the assumption.

“Why don’t we all write a movie name down on a piece of paper that we’ll all like - a comedy or something - and do a raffle.”

“Okay, but who’s choosing?”

Harry rolled his eyes and waited for the inevitable to happen. George and Abbie fought for five minutes, both arguing that one of them should choose, and then the decision was given to you as the honorary house mediator. Everyone wrote their choices down on a scrap of paper and dropped them all into one of Rhys’s beanies. Then you closed your eyes, body screaming reluctance at having to be the decision-maker, and plucked a folded square out.

Your mouth lifted at the corners. “Shrek 2.”

Snacks were brought in, beers were shared out, and someone pressed play on the film where it had been queued up.

“Wait!” George screamed.

You all looked at him, bewildered by his dramatics. He’d even stood up.

“What?” Rhys gave him a baffled look.

“I wanna sit in the armchair.” George pointed to the very one Rhys sat in. “I don’t wanna sit in a couple sandwich. A third wheel is bad enough, but a fifth wheel is a disaster.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, laughter nervous and the ultimate giveaway.

“Oh fuck off if you two think we don’t all know you’re a thing.”

Your body tensed. Harry could feel it, the way you went from soft to rigid in a split second. “What?”

“We’ve known for ages.” Abbie said with a sweet smile.

“Yeah, like, the second Harry moved in.” George rolled his eyes.

“But we haven’t been-,”

“-Maybe not the whole time, but definitely recently. I can hear the floorboards creak, you know.” George gave you an accusatory glance. Curse him living directly beneath you. “Amongst other things.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or whether he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His cheeks and the tips of his ears had turned pink, and you looked like you were in shock. “Right…”

“I am slightly offended that you didn’t want us to know.” Rhys folded his arms. “What did you think was gonna happen?”

He had a point. What did you think was going to happen? Mild ribbing and inappropriate jokes? It wasn’t exactly any of their business what the two of you were doing on the top floor, but that didn’t mean you’d needed to hide everything from them. Why had you stopped yourselves from being affectionate when around them? They were your friends. You all had inside jokes and a group chat and emoji code names. They were like a second family in a way. Even though you all enjoyed your own company, you liked each other too.

“I think… for a while we didn’t really know what was happening.” Harry finally spoke, twisting in his place. “We just started hanging out and it kinda grew from there.”

“I called this on day one, by the way.” George said smugly.

“It’s true, he did.” Abbie nodded, still smiling. “Two good-looking people at the top of the house? Recipe for heaven.”

“We’re happy it finally happened. Just… don’t hide shit like that from us. We’re all friends.” George was back to scowling.

“Friends.” Rhys cooed, like Jay from The Inbetweeners.

“Anyway, now that’s all out there, can we start the film please? Or it’s gonna be my bedtime.” Abbie flailed her hand around.

The movie started, everyone settled into their places, and you managed to find a comfortable position against Harry’s side.

Even though you chatted along with conversations and laughed at the telly, Harry knew something was off. You were still tense, and you didn’t touch him like you normally would. He wanted you in his arms, not pushed awkwardly against his side. He wasn’t sure if it was because you were uncomfortable displaying affection in front of other people, but whatever it was he wanted to make it go away.

He shifted at one point in an attempt to wrap an arm around your middle, but instead you moved further away. That utterly terrified him.

As the movie credits rolled, everyone started to move, ready to get to bed for the night. Except you.

“Guys,” You said, quiet as a mouse, but everyone heard you. Because you never stopped anyone for anything, “can we all have a chat?”

Dread nestled itself into Harry’s stomach. A chat? About what? Everyone? Why did everyone have to be present? What was going on?

The housemates sat back down, if a little tentatively, gazes wary. You finally gave Harry your attention, if only fleetingly with a worried smile.

“Are you alright?” Abbie asked and pulled your hand into hers.

Harry leaned forwards.

“You’ll all be getting an email tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you in person.” You licked your lips, stare heavy on the stone floor of the living room. “Dad is selling the house.”

A little piece of your heart broke that evening when your dad told you his plans to sell. It was a place that you had such an odd relationship with, because while it cost a lot of money and caused a lot of financial problems, it also brought you a family you never asked for and a man you never dreamed of having.

You knew your dad would try and hold onto it as long as he possibly could because it had become your home, and he’d been in bits over dinner as he broke the news. He cried, so you cried, and then your sister cried, too. Everyone had been a mess.

“What?” George said, dumbfounded. Hell, everyone was dumbfounded.

“It’s the last thing he wanted to do, but it’s kind of burning a hole in his pocket and we can’t afford it anymore. Between the leaking second floor and dodgy plumbing there’s also woodworm and stone repairs and all sorts of other crap I don’t want to bore you with.”

“You found this out today?” Abbie asked, bottom lip trembling.

“Yeah, an hour or so ago. I’m really sorry, guys.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Rhys frowned.

Abbie crawled across the small gap between her and you and wrapped her arms around you. “We get it. It’s old, it’s a bit rickety and it needs a lot of TLC. We all know your dad gave it all the care he could afford and it’s okay that he can’t afford it anymore.”

“How long do we have to find new places?” George asked, biting his lip.

“As long as it takes to sell. Given the condition of the place it could be fuckin’ ages.” You managed a laugh.

“If your dad needs us to do anything, he just needs to let us know. And we’ll make sure it’s tidy as fuck for viewings and shit.”

“Thanks, Rhys.”

The housemates starting shifting again, collecting up their bits and leaving with softly spoken good nights. You still didn’t move, and neither did Harry. After a quiet minute or so, he slipped his hand into yours and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“What are you thinking?” He asked in a gravelly whisper.

You took a deep breath, nibbling away at your lower lip. “That I’m scared.”

“Scared?”

“Mhm.”

“Scared about what?”

You turned to face him, cataloguing every crease of worry on his handsome face. “Us. What this means for us.”

He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. “What do you think it means for us?”

“Well, I don’t know. I’m scared it means the end, when I don’t want it to. I’m scared that what we’ve been doing is just… convenient? And now that we have to leave it won’t be so convenient anymore and it will be over.”

“You don’t want it to be over.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. Not even a little bit. I… I don’t want a night without you ever again. I can sleep with you around. I can breathe. I need to breathe, and I can’t do that without you. And part of me hates that I need you, but I do, and the rest of me that doesn’t hate it tells me to fuck everything to the wind. Because it’s not just need, it’s also a want. I just want you around, like you have been. Presence is such a funny thing when it comes from different people, but yours… I like yours. A lot.”

Harry spoke your name in a low voice, gaze on your mouth as he smoothed his thumb across your lower lip, “I don’t want it to be over, either.” He meets your gaze again, cool, calm and collected. “I really hoped it wouldn’t be at any stage ever, least not because we have to leave the house and find another one. I’ve been living with you for three fucking years and I also don’t want to have to spend a night where you don’t live with me. Hell, it’s not even a fucking option. I know you love this place because it’s your family’s, but I don’t care where we live as long as we do it together. I’ve been looking at other places since the day I moved in, and the only reason I haven’t bothered to leave is because you kept me here, whether you meant to or not. And now we have to leave, and I’m sure as shit gonna take you with me, because I can’t live without you.”

You stared at him for a moment, and then launched into his arms, tackling him into the sofa. You peppered his face with kisses until he caught your lips and held you there, happy in the knowledge that you needed each other and that was absolutely fucking okay.

“You’re special to a lot of people, but especially to me.” Harry mumbled into your lips. “I’m selfish enough to not let you go.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Good.”

You remained in the lounge for a little while longer, wrapped up in one another, until movement began upstairs and you decided it was probably time to head upstairs to bed. Before you made it to the stairs, Rhys and George appeared in front of you. Rhys looked apprehensive and George looked irritated he’d been dragged out of his room again.

“What’s going on?” You asked, cocking your head.

“Abbie’s in the loo so I’m gonna make this real quick before she comes back.” Rhys threw a wary glance over his shoulder. “I need your help.”

Every morning was the same.

This week it had been, anyway. You woke up with the sunrise, wrapped in Harry’s arms, and you listened to his heartbeat and his unconscious breathing for a blissful twenty minutes before his alarm went off. Then he’d fall out of bed with a reluctant yawn, mooch his way around the room and disappear into the bathroom to get ready for work.

Upon reappearing he’d head to the kitchen to make a coffee and leave a cup of tea on your bedside table, then a kiss on your lips, and then you’d watch the man who defined ‘sex on legs’ leave your apartment from the comfiest spot in the bedroom.

Today was the same, but different. He wasn’t going to work today, and neither were you. It meant longer in bed, with enough time for sexy shenanigans, then he’d make for the bathroom, bring you tea afterwards and breakfast.

You spent the day in bed, right up until 5 o’clock when you had to get up and go out to give your keys back.

Yes, your dad had managed to sell the house. It had taken a while, but it got there. The new owners were moving in tomorrow, and you’d all arranged to meet your dad and your sister there to do a final ‘handover’.

George had moved into a studio flat in the centre of town but spent most of his nights at his boyfriend’s place. Rhys and Abbie had finally bought that house they always wanted, out of town but easy to travel into. And you and Harry also had your own place, still renting and in the city, but it was yours together, and that was all you wanted.

“Are you nervous?” Harry asked as you walked up to the front of old Blackpool Tower.

“I’m not the one that needs to be nervous.” You shrugged, even if you had been the one to help Rhys with most of the planning.

He’d been a lot of work over the past few weeks. After he initially asked for your help he spent so long searching for the damn jewellery he forgot about the rest of it. You had reminded him on many occasions that it didn’t need a big song and dance, but he insisted, because he wanted it in the house you’d all shared with her favourite people to witness it.

The garden was lit up in the early evening with fairy lights and candles. George, your sister and your dad were already at the far end waiting for Rhys and Abbie to arrive. You gave over your keys - dad had the house professionally cleaned even though you had offered, because it was too big a task for one person.

Blackpool Illuminations

Rhys We’re nearly there…

Yes, Rhys had really named the group chat for the planning committee ‘Blackpool Illuminations’.

You stood next to your sister who wrapped herself around your middle, and Harry kept hold of your free hand.

“I hope she says no.” Your sister said, and Harry snorted. “Just for a laugh.”

“I don’t think Abbie has it in her to say no to Rhys.” You mused.

Five minutes later the couple in question turned up. Abbie had no idea what was going on, obviously. She’d been told they were going for dinner and then for a walk. The walk was always supposed to end here, at the old house.

Abbie gasped at the sight before her, hands on her mouth as she moved through the garden. “What’s going on?”

Behind her, Rhys swiftly dropped to one knee and presented the ring he’d spent months agonising over. “Abbie,”

You all watched and listened as Rhys spent five minutes talking about how perfect his girl was for him. It was very typical Rhys - overboard and unnecessarily long. Most things maybe could’ve been kept for his wedding vows.

Just as your sister was about to explode from restlessness, Rhys finally asked, “Will you marry me?”

“I would’ve said yes five minutes ago.” Abbie giggled, nodding, and held her left hand out.

George and your sister started hollering, your dad was pretending not to cry, and you fell into Harry’s hold again, watching the happy couple with a warm smile.

“I hope to God they don’t ask me to help plan the actual wedding.”

Harry chuckled and pressed his lips into your temple. “I’ll make sure they don’t.”

Your sister presented herself in front of you with an assured look on her face. “When are you two getting engaged, then?”

Harry choked behind you, and you gave your sister a bewildered look. “Reel it in, please.”

“What?” She shrugged. “Being in love suits you. A wedding would really suit you.”

“A wedding isn’t something you arrange for an aesthetic, sis.” You reminded her.

“Speak for yourself, but I do recommend heavily considering it.”

After she turned away, Harry lowered his mouth to the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you.”

You tightened his arms around you. “One day.” You said with a kiss to his palm.

His smile imprinted on your cheek. “One day.”

~.~.~.~.~

Thank you so v much for reading if you make it this far. It’s a long one, I know. The longest one shot I’ve actually ever done. Much love to you <3

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