#you puking over his dress shirt is too much

[qlossytbh]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 the time where you had just a little too much to drink after a party at rossis and spencer takes care of you

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 alcohol intoxication, drinking, reader gets sick, emetophobia, a bit of suggestiveness (?), lots of pet names, spencer’s a sweetheart.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.2k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 suffering a bit of a writers block but i am on a roll lately. it’s like ive got all these unfinished drafts and i can’t seem to finish them ugh. im going through my request, slowly but surely!

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Come on,” Spencer urged, wrapping a tight arm around you as you clung to his shoulder as if your life depended on it. God, your head was pounding and your own body felt like dead weight as you continued carrying yourself around.

You stumbled on your feet, too intoxicated to walk straight. The sharp stiletto heel that accompanied your dress was not working in your favor either, and they were frankly becoming quite painful.

“I need to sit down,” You slurred in a hushed yet collected manner.

“One second angel,” He whispered, reminding himself not to disrupt his neighbors.

It wasn’t your fault that Rossi's parties always consisted in a very sweet, very endless supply of the most exquisite cocktails you’d ever tasted. It’s not everyday you got to taste such bougie liquor and given your big sweet tooth, and Garcia’s pesky persistence to get you to follow along her alcohol tasting spree, all those free drinks were dangerous at your disposal.

Penelope had passed over this tart but perfectly sweetened strawberry drink she had encountered and you made the grave mistake of trying it. Just when the flavors melted in your mouth, you immediately made your way to the bar in search of your own, downing that one and three more in less than fifteen minutes.

In hindsight, that was a horrible decision. Spencer knew that if he had been glued to your hip, just like he usually was at these or any social event for that matter, he’d never let you drink as much and as fast as you did. He had nagged about something with rapid absorption and rapid increase in BAC— you were too drunk to remember any of the information he was dumping your way if you were being honest.

You began slowing down once the nausea and severe dizziness settled in. Usually, you knew your limits with alcohol. You knew how much got you drunk enough to loosen up, and you knew how much was too much, thanks to a few situations where you had to learn the hard way. However, something about the sweetness and the inability to taste any alcohol whatsoever threw you off your radar.

And here you are, dragging yourself against Spencer’s body and back into his apartment, too drunk to even walk and feeling like you were about to literally throw up any and every thing in your system.

Spencer pushed the door open, managing to balance you in his other arm as he unlocked the door swiftly. He walked in with you by his side, throwing the keys into the small metal dish by the door and now using both hands to keep you steady.

You remained quiet, trying desperately to focus on keeping the nausea down and not throwing up. “Spence,”

“What's wrong?” He asked, looking down at you as you dug your forehead into his chest, grappling at his shirt with a rough tug.

“I feel really sick,” The world around you was spinning and that pit in your stomach was getting harder to push down. He matted down the top of your tousled hair, tucking a few stray strands behind your ears.

“Do you need to throw up?” He asked, voice soft and comforting.

“I think so,” The nausea seemed to hit like a tidal wave, and all you needed was to lie down. You needed to lie down. Just the mention of puking was enough to get you to gag. Immediately freaked out and panicked, you gave a persistent nod, already pushing yourself off of him and making a very crooked B-line for the bathroom, knowing you were going to throw up.

Once past the bathroom door, you fell to your knees opening the lid of the toilet and hurling the contents of your stomach into it. You gagged, retching loudly while tears pricked the corners of your eyes and everything around you hurt.

Spencer followed closely behind, crouching beside you and pulling up your hair into a messy makeshift ponytail while his other came to rub comforting circles on your back, sitting through your discomfort by your side.

It was ironic really. Spencer had always been extremely opposed to anything germ related and this seemed to be his worst nightmare. If anyone knew about this, they’d probably not be able to believe how Spencer didn’t run in the opposite direction and quite literally ran right towards you and your germ related issues. Since he started dating you, he let certain things slide. He shared more of his personal space and didn’t mind if that included sharing things he wouldn’t tend to share around others.

He never thought twice about it if it brought you comfort. It came to him naturally, putting you and your comfort and happiness first.

You spit out the remaining acidic taste of bile into the toilet and groaned heavily. Your nostrils burned and so did the back of your throat, but all of the nausea was immediately alleviated from your system.

“Mhm, sexy,” You said, reaching over for a piece of toilet paper and wiping down your mouth. Spencer huffed a laugh through his nose, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “This is embarrassing.”

“This?” He said, voice jumping into one of fake shock. You threw a glare over your shoulder and his face immediately melted into a sweet smile, rubbing your back with just a bit more clarity. “I’ve seen you in worse predicaments,”

“How do you feel?” You turned, resting your back against the toilet after flushing the contents away and turning towards him.

“I feel better,” You mumbled, screwing your eyes shut and attempting to blink away the tears and the burning sensation of your nose.. “But I probably look very disgusting.”

He tilted his head with a shrug, wholeheartedly answering. “You don’t look disgusting,”

“Liar,” You said with narrowed eyes, smiling playfully.

He shook his head with one of his signature smiles, those that tugged slightly to the right and crinkled the corner of his eyes just perfectly. He reached up, grabbing the empty glass cup that sat on the side of his sink, and was now filled with water. He handed you the glass which you took without complaint. “Drink,”

You drank down the whole glass, wanting to get the disgusting aftertaste out of your mouth. “Better?”

“Much,” You nodded, smiling up at him, feeling instantly better but still dizzy. “I feel like, rejuvenated or something,”

You reached back to push yourself up off the ground, only for Spencer to set a firm hand on your shoulder keeping you still.

“Give yourself a minute,” He told you. “You feel better after vomiting following excessive alcohol consumption mainly due to the removal of alcohol and its irritating effects on the stomach, but you need a few seconds.”

You hummed, picking at a rhinestone on your dress. “Does that mean I should expel all my stomach's contents everytime I overdrink to feel better?”

“No,” He narrowed his eyes at you. “You shouldn’t even drink enough to get to the point of having to throw up in the first place, love,”

“But those strawberry drinks were so good Spence,” You threw your head back with a pout.

“Yeah, yeah,” He dismissed with a playful tone. He hooked his fingers around your elbows. “Up,”

You steadied yourself with a tight grip on his shoulders and winced at the bright white light of the bathroom. He pushed you back, knocking the back of your knees into the toilet and forcing you to sit down on it with a soft thud. He crouched down and reached over to knead at the straps of your heel and promptly remove them.

He set them to the side and wordlessly moved into his room, grabbing one of his spare t-shirts and making his way back into the bathroom, where you watched him with weary eyes and a very sleepy but adoring smile.

Everything felt fuzzy but just seeing him work his way around you with such ease made your heart beat insanely.

“It’s not fair that you’re so pretty,” You voiced. Spencer opened his mouth to answer but could only mustered a stammered chuckle, blushing profusely but trying to resist laughing at the slurring in your voice.

“I’m pretty?” He asked. You nodded.

“Very,” He reached his hands out, grabbing yours and pulling you up.

“Is it okay if I take your dress off?” He asked, turning you around so your back was facing him. His fingers skimmed across your already exposed shoulders and back and everything felt so heightened that you shuddered at the ghost of his touch.

“Thought you’d never ask,” You said, shooting him a suggestive smile over your shoulder. He said your name with a warning, not faltering in the slightest.

“I’m kidding!” For the most part at least.

“Well, given since you can’t sleep in this dress,” His calloused fingers traced your shoulders in a soothing rhythm. “I brought you one of my shirts but I need to take off your dress in order to put it on,”

Your body seemed to feel magnetized to the floor, pulling your every movement down with a huge weight. Which was probably the alcohol having its effect on you. You felt stupefied but all you could think of was just how tired you were.

“That’s fine Spence,” You murmured, allowing his fingers to skim down your shoulders and towards the dress's zipper. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to rest them while his hands moved around your back.

He pulled it down, all so gently and smoothly that you were growing even dizzier than you were with more than three cocktails in you.

“I love this dress,” You stated, watching as the sleeves loosened from your shoulders and began sliding down. The cold air hit your bare skin and you merely shivered as it fell and rested on the plush flesh of your hips.

“So do I,” He smiled, slipping his own shirt over your head. You huffed as he pushed the dress down your hips, allowing his shirt to fall over your upper body and cover you as best as it could while picking up the pool of fabric from the floor and laying it out against the toilet. “You looked very beautiful.”

You really did. The way that specific black sequined dress hugged your figure in every single angle and crease possible, flaunting off your body shape perfectly, made Spencer weak at his knees. He didn’t know how he didn’t drop everything the second he saw you to pull you elsewhere private and kiss you until neither of you could breathe.

“Looked? As in past tense?” You turned, facing him with a fake betrayal plastered across your features. “That’s rude,”

“You are insufferable,” He reached back, grabbing your spare toothbrush and putting a nice amount of toothpaste on it. “Now let me brush your teeth so I can kiss you,”

You surrendered your never ending teasing with a sigh, grabbing the hem of his shirt as he held your chin tenderly, brushing your teeth. Throughout the whole three minutes, you couldn’t hold back from allowing yourself to re-learn every single scratch and line on Spencer’s face, engraving its every detail and beauty into a small space in your brain.

Once he was finished and you had rinsed your mouth out with water, you were eternally grateful that the acidic taste in your mouth and lips had been replaced with a fresh minty one. “There,”

You hummed, pulling Spencer in by the said hem of his t-shirt and tilting your chin up towards him, smiling at him like an idiot. “Hi,”

“Hey,” His hands reached up, cradling your face tenderly in his palms, pouring any and every ounce of love he had in him onto you with a firm kiss.

“My legs are killing me,” You said, nuzzling your nose into his cheek and hugging his torso. He rubbed your back with a kiss on the top of your forehead. “I want to lay down,”

“I know but I need to get your makeup off, angel,” He murmured.

You groaned, needing to just get to bed or else you’d literally collapse “You specifically know that if you leave it on overnight, the buildup of makeup, along with dirt, oil, and pollutants that you collect on your skin throughout the day accumulates on its surface and can cause skin issues and breakouts.”

You narrowed a glare. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right,”

“I always am,” He smiled proudly.

“Okay now you’re just pushing it,” He reached back, grabbing a makeup removing wipe from its respective package and dragging it very smoothly across your cheeks, lips, eyes and forehead— any part of your face he could get at. You shivered at the chilliness it gave your flared up cheeks.

Spencer was so gentle with you it made your heart swell in size at just how much attention and care he put into everything he did for you. If you weren’t as tired—and as out of it— as you were right now, you really would pull him down and kiss him anywhere (and everywhere) until your heart stopped beating as much as it was. Although realistically speaking the kissing would probably cause your palpitations to worsen.

He managed to get as much mascara off as he could but the waterproof substance stuck to the bottom of your eyes with a fierce grip. He tossed the wipe into the trashcan and quickly swiped his thumbs across the bottom of your eyes with a very docile brush.

“How do I look?” You said, narrowing your eyes with humor, knowing you probably looked absolutely disheveled. Spencer cocked a brow at you, reaching back and undoing the tie that held your hair into the gorgeous updo thing you had going on.

“Absolutely breathtaking,” He still said, pressing a chaste kiss to the bridge of your nose. His hands continued working at your hair, to which you let your eyes flicker close, resisting the uncontrollable urge to moan out loud as the pads of his fingers rubbed your irritated scalp soothingly.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice came out way more breathier than intended.

“What for?” He asked, letting his hands rest on the side of your neck.

“This,” It wasn’t exactly flattering— the state he had seen you in. And for some reason you felt embarrassed at the thought of him seeing you so exposed and in some shape or form. “I don’t know I feel like I made a fool of myself,”

He furrowed his brows. “I don’t know— I feel guilty that you have to take care of me.”

“But I love taking care of you,” He murmured, instilling such a delicate tone with you that it was impossible to feel uncertain about anything. “Don’t say sorry,”

He kissed you, perfectly, just like he always did. “If you say so,”

It was true. Spencer loved, absolutely treasured, moments where he could take care of you in his own special way. Be gentle and remind you just how much he absolutely loved you.

“Am I done now?” You huffed, slumping forward as all the bones in your body begged to sleep.

“Mhm,” He pulled back, scanning you entirely. “Good to go.”

[gremlingottoosilly]

Slasher!König crashing a small Halloween party. Reader starts flirting with him, thinking he’s just dressed in a costume as another party goer. Even when he starts saying ominous words, she thinks he’s trying to keep up his act with some weird role play. Reader also has a big mask/fictional slasher kink. The music also drowned out the screams of her friends, making her unaware that she’s probably the last one standing.

Party is lame. Decor is cringey, costumes are lazy. The only movie the host brought is the latest Screams, and you kinda hate the sequels past the third. No streaming services either - you brew in boredom, drinking too much for one person. Not like you give a fuck, obviously. Honestly, you are one of few people who actually thought about their costume. You and some other guy. Wears a GhostFace mask - basic. His body isn't. Tall, broad, muscular in a way that stretches his black compression shirt. Some tactical harnesses across his pecks, makes you want to tug on it and see if it would be useful while riding him. Oh shit. You're definitely drunk. You plop on the side of the couch, your buzzed drain ignoring how quiet party suddenly got. Probably half of the part is already gone - you wouldn't blame them. Music is too loud, the weird horror mix with added screams makes you want to puke, and the only thing still keeping you around is snacks and this guy sitting on the couch. You try to appear nonchalant, scrolling on your phone. Checking out other, much more fun, parties. With your side vision, you can see the guy leaning towards you, shamelessly looking at your phone screen. Bad boy. "You should pay more attention to your surroundings." He says, in his perfectly hot voice. You ignore the threat, instead opting to graze your knee over his. He grunts under that heavy mask of his. Smells weird - like metal and booze combined. You think you have already started getting hallucinations from drinking too much. "Or what, big guy?" He places a hand on your hip, playing with the hem of your shorts. You're not usually like this, but you're bored and lonely. You spread your legs, thinking about condoms you had in your bag - just in case. Smile as his fingers linger even further, closer to your mound. He knows what he wants, at least. And his hands are nice. "You mind end up in a horror story" You laugh, pressing your body closer to him. Gets on his lap, grind your ass against his erection. Smile when he grabs your waist and settles you down, a hand already getting in your panties. Asks you quietly for confirmation and you get him a condom from your bag. Grind your hips over his cock again. Smile. You push yourself up, looking around the room. Something is wrong - you can't quite point out what, but you squint and... Konig slips his cock in your welcoming pussy. You stare at the body of the party host, head severed and laying just behind the couch. You blink. "Going to keep you, Schatzen. Don't worry, ja?" You really should have paid attention to your surroundings.

[makelemonade]

BEST FRIENDS TO FUCK FRIENDS - GENSHIN MEN

Warnings; NSFW, (18+), Female Reader, implied to have a big chest (not crazy big like be realistic) and a GYATT (sorry), p in v sex, seductiveness, implied squiring, a little sprinkle of degradation (use of the word “slut”), Semi-Public, unwanted pics (He wanted them), mentions of jerking off/masturbation, sinful thoughts of your best friend, raw sex, idk tell me if I missed anything, HORRIBLY WRITTEN SMUT. ITS SO BAD.

Notes; I was supposed to write this for Thoma originally so if this name is somewhere in here…ignore it. If you like this, support me on kofi! Link in masterlist!

You’ve been his best friend since secondary school, and you couldn’t deny the feelings you had for him within high school.

You always denied it though, because you just couldn’t ruin the friendship. But, now you’re both in university, stuff changes and you definitely grew some stuff..

Your feelings for him turn into sexual desires when you realize it’s been a long time since you’ve done anything. You’ve been so occupied with university that you couldn’t even spend some time on yourself…

What sets everything off is when he invites you to his house in the spring to swim. Seeing those abs and the water dripping off his chest…holy shit. Is it bad you wanted to lick all that water off or?

You bring up the topic of friends with benefits, but not between you two (yet), just what he thinks of it.

When he isn’t opposed to one with a friend, that’s what changes your mindset completely. You knew he wasn’t the best at making those type of moves, but with your assets…

It starts a week later when you ask to sleepover at his house after a party. He agrees.

This is gonna sound crazy, but you purposely puked over yourself by drinking too much so he could give you his shirt. You decided, that not wearing any shorts was now your way of sleeping!

So, here you were in his room, in his shirt, black underwear that was hardly covered, and a bed for the both of you to share.

He gulped, lingering for a while but said nothing and just got into bed. He was gonna think about your ass for a while.

You got in beside him, and maybe an hour later if he’s asleep and you’re not, you’ll secretly inch yourself closer to him, so when he wakes up and finds your hardly covered ass rubbing against him, he’ll have to go to the bathroom.

What sets him off completely is in the morning when you stretch, your arms going up and exposing your bare legs and stomach. He couldn’t stop staring.

The next step isn’t too far away; Maybe 2 weeks later. He invited you to come for a swim again, and this one was a hard decision between a bikini or a horribly fabricated shirt that exposed everything.

You decided to go for a bikini that didn’t have the best fabric, so when it got wet…

“A bikini?” He spoke. “What happened to your shorts and shirts?” You usually never went with bikinis, if it wasn’t obvious already.

You shrugged. “Change of habit.”

The cold water made your nipples pop, going through the fabric completely. Did I mention the bikini was also white?

This, is what gets him thinking about you a lot from now on.

Later in the week you’re FaceTiming him, and he noticed the change in clothes. You’re wearing a dress from HIGH SCHOOL. It was so small that the side of your breasts were out.

He had no shame in hiding the fact he was staring at them the entire FaceTime.

In the middle of taking, you pretended to drop your phone by your leg, but he didn’t expect that when you’d pick it up, he’d catch a glimpse of his favourite colour as your tight panties before you quickly moved the phone back up.

He has to hang up 5 minutes later.

Now, your next idea is gonna sound absolutely horrible.

You took pictures of yourself, none of you naked but had a sexy lingerie set in his favourite colour and sent them to him on Messages

And 2 seconds later you’re spamming him on Snapchat,

DON’T OPEN MY IMESSAGE

IGNORE IT

I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND IT TO YOU.

Now, he’s curious, so of course he tells you he won’t look and says he’ll delete the chat.

But really he’ll save them to his phone and definitely jerk off to them.

Now, the next step is the final step, and takes the most courage.

You invite him out to the club, wearing a sexy right black dress that showed your curves perfectly.

Since this was gonna take up a lot of courage, you took maximum 2 shots to get your mindset a little changed for this.

He takes the same amount you do, and you’ve both been to multiple parties where you’ve gotten blackout drunk; 2 shots would make sure you’d remember everything.

When the both of you make your way to the dance floor, you’re shaking, but you keep telling yourself you can do this.

The next song plays and you’re both dancing together,

And the next thing he knew, you’ve turned around and you’re grinding your ass right on his pelvis. He freezes for a bit, and you’re scared; Have you gone too far?

But suddenly, his hands are on your hips and he’s moving the two of you to the rhythm, keeping your ass pressed against him.

You dance like this for another minute or 2 and then he moves his arms up around your waist, pulling your back against his chest as he starts to kiss your neck, sucking on it.

You let out moans, wishing he could hear them.

One hand makes its way up to grope your tit, he could already feel your nipple with how tight your dress was. “No bra?” He spoke into your ear so seductively, making you whimper.

He then grab your arms, dragging you to the washroom.

~~~

The small washroom mirror is steamed as your pressed against it, sat atop the sink, the both of you sloppily making out as his dick pushed in and out of of your cunt, your fluids dripping all over your thighs.

“Fucking slut,” He grunted, throwing his head back at the pure bliss. “You knew what you’ve been doing, haven’t you? All those, fuck, pictures? The bikini?”

You just grinned, tongue lolling out as your eyes rolled back into your head. “Nghh- fuck!”

He slapped the side of your ass, “Tell me how much of a slut you are, since you wanna be treated like one”

“Mmm- FUCK! I’m a slut, I’m your fucking slut, nghh~!”

“Good girl,” He panted, fucking into you harder. “I dreamed of this.” He groaned, laughing. “Fucking this tight pussy. It-fuck! Belongs to me now.”

Somehow, his thrusts became even harder, making you scream as you clawed at this back, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “Don’t stop!”

“Scream louder, maybe you’ll beat the music,” He snorted, and you wanted to slap the grin off his face, but you’re met with pure bliss as you meet your high.

“I’m cumming!Imcummingimcumming!”

You screamed as your fluids gushed all over his pelvis and he kept fucking into you. Maybe you beat the music.

It didn’t take long until he came into you. Ropes of his warm seed plastering your insides. He panted, resting his head on your shoulder.

You both stayed like that for a few minutes, the both of you too overstimulated to move.

At some point he pulled out, making you whine. His cum was starting to spill out and he shook his head, shoving 2 fingers in.

“Let’s go back to my place, I’m not done with you yet.”

-THOMA, ITTO, ALHAITHAM, KAVEH, AYATO, Tighnari, Albedo, CYNO, CHILDE, Pantalone, DILUC, Kaeya, ZHONGLI, Xiao, NEUVILLETTE, Wriothesly

[prodbymaui]

Oops, Baby (I Love You)

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

PAIRING: jeong jaehyun x reader

GENRE: modern royalty ; arranged marriage

WORD COUNT: 12.5k+ words

WARNINGS: heavy alcohol consumption, mentions of sleeping pills, food play, oral sex, dirty talks. (the whole fic is romcom slash very fluffy, the only nasty thing here is the smut scene)

SYNOPSIS: you had been living your life as a rebellious and controversial crown princess, now you must face the consequence of purifying your tainted image; marrying the gentle and infamous crown prince of South Korea.

PLAYLIST: Do you hear my heart?

A/N: after weeks of depression episodes what do you call them), I finally got the strength to finish this bad bitch lmao. I know you guys have been waiting so I hope you'll leave your thoughts after? anyways, happy reading!

Everything is spinning and everyone is either two or three. You don't know how much alcohol you've drank but certainly it was enough for you to stumble your way out of the bar, looking for somewhere to puke your guts out.

The intense nausea is already too much for your fucked up body system to accommodate, but the gods and deities thought it's not enough and it'll be perfect if you trip continuously on your Celine Truffle Pointed Heels, possibly damaging it more than you've done to your other shoes. The mask to hide your face is not helping as well.

Someone bumps your side and due to your drunken state, you lose your balance and break one of the heels, sending you to dive to your side. Your eyes shut close as you brace yourself for a painful slam but it never comes. Instead you meet a firm chest hidden underneath a black dress shirt and 2 layers of silver necklaces.

Looking up, through your hazy vision, you see pursed lips and palms up, as if avoiding touching you anywhere. As you step to regain your balance, you trip once again and like a deja vu, the man only lets you use his shoulders and chest to support yourself but never lets his hands touch you.

''You might want to get off of me, Ms…?''

Hearing that voice, a strange sense of familiarity and longing surge to your heart, engulfing it and squeezing it. As if to say, remember it.

''...heart.'' Why is my heart aching?

The man pulls away and observes you, sighing. He clears his throat. ''Sorry, Heart.''

His figure walking away is the last thing you see before your vision blacks out with no guarantee of you being able to recall the events that took place tonight.

Utmost disappointment. Series of distasteful comments. Disapproving reactions. Surely, these aren't the usual feelings of the people towards the soon-to-be-queen of their country but it has been the weekly routine for the people of yours to criticize their sole princess.

''Strip her off the royal titles–! Are these people out of their mind?!'' Your squeal that comes close to a banshee rings across the whole entirety of the bedroom.

''Excuse them, they take after their princess.'' Hiding her giggles behind a fist, Winter scrambles off the bed as you aim to strangle her fragile neck.

Barely dodging your deathly grips by an inch, Winter's yelps bounces off the walls continuously, followed by your irritated shrieks and threatening hands ready to crush your best friend. The chase eventually dies down with the two of you panting, catching your breaths. You pull her short brown locks one last time before jumping on the bed, face down. Winter does the same and lands next to you, arms draping over each other.

A knock disrupts the peaceful atmosphere that engulfs the room, pulling you out of your slumber trance. You knew the pattern of the knock too well. It is practiced by all royal staff to ensure politeness and great manners whenever they are surrounded by royalties and VIPs. Included in training  as per the Queen's request.

The door opens and it reveals a female servant. This one's not yours, judging by the blue brooch. ''Good evening, Your Highness. Ms. Kang wishes to see you in her office right now and orders me to fetch you.''

''And why is that?''

''She said nothing, Ma'am.''

That earns a boisterous laugh from your best friend, alongside a series of claps. ''Goodluck on hearing an hour of scolding, girl.''

Winter sends you a 'fighting' gesture. You give her your middle finger.

The trip to the advisor's office takes a few minutes as the private chambers of the royal members are at the east wing while gatherings, some royal duties, and part where it is open for the public are dealt with at the west side of the palace. You're still not mentally prepared when the wooden entrance makes its way for you. As your eyes meet the pair of the royal advisor, you know you should've prepared yourself much better.

''Good evening, Your Highness. Please do take a seat.''

Albeit it's probably showing on the courtesy of your eyebrows, you still cover your scoff with a cough under your breath. ''Drop the politeness, Eunhye. I don't need it.''

Eunhye removes the newspaper that serves as a hindrance for you to see her expression, and there you spot the disapproving look on her face. You shrug inwardly. What's new? You suppose people in their late 30s are quite uptight. Or it's just your former babysitter.

Kang Eunhye used to play with you a lot during your childhood whenever you and your friends didn't have a playdate. You should've known she was going to take up her late mother's position when Eunhye often disappeared after the death of the former royal advisor. That was when she started changing and became more strict with you.

''You don't need it, you say? Good. Because I don't perceive it as necessary when I tell you Her Majesty had gone haywire by yet another scandal of her sole heir that she asked me to not let you out of the palace if it's not for your studies or royal duties.''

''–what?! That's absurd!''

''Oh I think it's a light punishment for a scandal involving participating in a brawl, breaking the nose of a commoner and almost ending up in jail. Mind you, this happened in front of a controversial bar! And to top it all off, it hasn't been a week since you were caught sleeping in the streets because your drunk ass couldn't help yourself up!''

You scratch your head. ''...well, if the bodyguards came–''

''They would've if you didn't switch clothes with a random woman and make them follow her thinking it was you! Do you know they got suspended and will not receive a portion of their salary because of what YOU did? It's only because of the King that they were spared from getting fired.''

''Not my fault that the guards you hired were fools and easily deceived. They should've recognized my figure even with different clothes.''

''They are bodyguards. Not your devoted fans–,'' Eunhye sighs. ''Your Highness.''

A moment of silence travels along the soundwaves of the room decorated with blue.

''Okay…? What do you want me to do, then? Public appearances? Press conference?''

Eunhye, knowing her ways, will probably advise you to address the issue, apologize for the things that you don't even regret to pacify the netizen. And because they most likely (definitely) won't buy your fake ass apology statement and continue to terrorize you on social media, your schedule will be packed with attending public events to show your 'genuineness'.

You've done this routine more times than the royal court approves so you know what to expect. In fact, you already have a few suggestions ready on which events will possibly dust bits of dirt on your name. You know this like the back of your hand.

The Queen enters. ''No.''

Apparently, you don't..? 

The moment your mother opens her mouth, you feel as if a myriad of buckets of icy water washes over you.

''You will marry a gentleman with a clean image. By then, you will be seen with great influence and garner people's love.''

Once. Twice. You slap yourself three more times but you don't wake up from this nightmare. Winter only looks at you pitifully while chewing her steak.

''Darling, would you please stop hurting yourself?'' A lovable tone is evident from the King's voice, accompanied by a concerned stare.

You sigh but the stabs of your fork through your own steak doesn't stop. ''Marry a gentleman.. I can't fucking believe this.''

''Language.'' The Queen says firmly. ''I apologize for getting ahead of you. I suppose you don't fancy a gentleman?''

''You apologize for assuming my preference but not for taking away my freedom..?''

''Do you wish to marry a lady, then?''

Silence fills the table. You sigh. ''Honestly? Anything would be fine.''

Your mother mums. ''Very well, then. You will be meeting your fianceé in 3 days–''

''–as long as I get to choose who I am marrying.''

''That won't be possible. The person needs to have the most influence and power among your age. The gender will be the only thing we can let you choose.''

''You don't have problems with having a queer princess?''

The Queen frowns. ''Of course, why would we? It is neither a crime nor a sin.''

Your father then nods. ''The royal court fully supports it since two decades ago.''

''But not the 'choosing your own lover'?'' You can only shake your head. You turn to the maid nearby. ''Please bring this to my room, I'll eat there instead.''

Everyone watches you in silence. No one at the table dares to scold you for your behavior.

''She has the rights to be upset this time.'' The King comments.

''Yes, she does.'' The Queen agrees.

Winter warily looks around, pursing her lips as she raises her hand. ''Uhm.. Your Majesty?''

''Yes, Lady Minjeong?''

Winter winces at the mention of her government name. ''As your daughter's best friend, will it be possible for me to know who she'll be marrying?''

Smiling, the King snaps his finger. ''Ah.. let's see if the future lover would pass the best friend's vibe check.''

His husband sends him a curt glance. ''Don't ever try to use generational phrases, it doesn't suit you. Back to Lady Minjeong, yes, it is possible. Would you like to know now?''

''A-already? I thought you're still looking through the profiles?''

''We have tons of staff, Lady Minjeong.''

''Right, I forgot about that.'' Winter sheepishly smiles.

''I'll excuse myself then. I have an appointment with a VIP in an hour, I have to go.'' Just as the husband and wife head towards the exit of the dining hall, the Queen turns. ''It is Prince Jaehyun of South Korea. A good man and the best one for the princess.''

''None on twitter. Nadda on instagram. Nothing on their official website. Heck, there's not even a single picture on google! Does this Prince Jaehyun even exist?'' Winter exclaims as she continues to scroll on her phone.

Frowning, you throw a pillow in her direction. ''Let the others hear your whining and they'll think you have a crush on my soon-to-be-fianceé. Why are you so interested in him?''

''Well, duh! You're literally marrying him, that's enough reason for me to get curious! The question here is why are YOU not interested?''

''I'm more interested in that man at the bar.''

''You should give some! This is the person you'll be spending your life with we're talking about!''

Scoffing, you tug the ends of her hair. ''Will you stop saying I'll marry him? The engagement will be called off sooner than mom and dad can even realize it's coming.''

Winter gasps dramatically and shots up to sit. ''What if it's some old man with a stinky smell and white hair? Oh my god what if Her Majesty agreed to marry you off to some ugly ass 50 year old man for the sake of the country's betterment?!''

Threatening to punch her if she doesn't stop with the overthinking, Winter zips her mouth as she decides to scroll on her phone once again.

You sigh. ''Pretty sure, Mom wouldn't do that, right? I mean she said something about being the best out of the people among our age so..''

''Huh, look at this.''

Winter crawls to you from the part of the she is lying, hands careful not to swipe her screen and risk refreshing the page. You squint your eyes to see.

PANN:

Crown Prince Jaehyun Once Again Stuns The People Of South Korea With His Amazing Visuals.

[ +217, -5 ] It's a shame that we're not allowed to post a photo of him on the internet. How am I supposed to stare at his face for a long time then? How am I supposed to appreciate and share his beauty?

[ +190, -3 ] Daebak! The royal family just visited our village and the rumors weren't lying when they said Prince Jaehyun is handsome ahwksjskww. He's like a walking statue!

[ +165, -20 ] I would die for a man like Prince Jaehyun. Very gentleman and polite. One time, I was with my niece when I met him and the youngest prince in a mall. My niece really wanted the toy car but Prince Jaehyun and Prince Jaemin got the last one before use but they still gave it to my niece.

[ +132, -56 ] Heol ㅋㅋㅋ Of course he would say that, he has an image to keep up! Royalties would try to polish their personalities in public often because they can't afford to lose the trust of the people. It's so fucking dumb how you think the prince acts that way because that just how he is and not because he has an image to take care of.

[ +122, -13 ] The comment above lolol. You're just jealous that the prince has everything you don't; looks, manners, and brains ㅋㅋㅋ

[ +84, -7 ] I don't think Prince Jaehyun does it because people are watching him. I've seen him lecture Prince Jaemin about how he shouldn't expect to get what he wants every time and mind you no one was inside our store that time as our store isn't quite popular so he couldn't be doing it for his image. I feel like Prince Jaehyun is genuine!

[ +65, -5 ] Didn't a lot of people see him wearing clothes with no brands? And that he has a good relationship with the youngest prince? Idk about you but I'd say that speaks a lot about him.

[ +52, -3 ] I've met Prince Jaehyun a lot of times, the only thing I could say is; 'Ultimately Prince-Like'! Handsome and tall, like he's written by Taylor Swift ㅋㅋㅋ. Prince Jaehyun is a dream *three heart emojis*

As you read over the first comment again, the curve on your forehead only deepens. They are not allowed to post a photo of their prince? Then, that would explain the lack of appearance of the royalty everywhere on social media. This pricks your interest. 

''That's a bit.. odd. They forbid any pictures of that prince from getting uploaded.''

''I know right! It's strange. Why would they hide the prince's face if he's truly handsome like the people said?''

You suck the top of your teeth. ''Maybe he's actually ugly and those that say otherwise were paid people. Or probably royal staffs ordered to spread some good words about their prince.''

''Why are you so hell-bent in making him ugly? Can't accept that your parents actually chose someone handsome, rich, and has good personality?''

Shaking your head, you wave your hand dismissively. Oh how you wish you could swipe off that annoying smirk on Winter's face. Is there a rule saying a princess can escape any law including those that involves unaliving a certain daughter of a duke? Hopefully, there is!

If, miraculously, your parents bring that man from the bar to you and arrange him to a marriage with you, maybe then you'll agree to tie up the knot at such a young age. In fact, you might even drop down to your knees and serve him–

The alcohol, or lack thereof, is definitely not good for you.

With the news of your engagement being released plus the anger from the people that is far from dwindling anytime soon, Winter didn't think twice to join you when the idea of getting drunk comes up. There's nothing better than drowning yourself in alcohol after constantly having to deal with the disappointed people of your country.

However, the night is just near getting young when your personal bodyguards dragged you and your best friend out of the bar. It is said that the royal advisor ordered them to do so but your mother was the root. It angered you to the core. They took your freedom of marrying someone you truly love and now, they're depriving you of coping with it as well? How controlling.

Winter was sent home right after both of you got howled back to the royal car. A couple of warnings from the Duke to his daughter and you know something is off. 

Winter's father isn't one to indulge himself in his daughter's vices. Sure, he keeps tabs on her every now and then but the Duke of Boryeong never attempts to control Minjeong as if some kind of robot, lest he suffers from the wrath of Duchess of Boryeong.

You could only wish your own parents did the same. Maybe they will. If you beg for a couple of days in front of the palace while dawning your white hanbok like those korean historical films that Winter likes to watch.

Shutting the car door close, you pass a whisper of 'thank you' to the driver before striding inside the palace. There aren't many people aside from those guarding the entrance which is why you don't find the need to be extra careful on your way. Being free from the shackles of aches caused by your heels is the only thing on your mind.

Just as you turn a corner, straight down the hall that leads to the dining area– you collide with someone. It'll send you a few steps backwards if it's not for the grip on your blazer. Your vision clearing takes a couple of seconds, courtesy of being tipsy from your previous activity.

''Is everything alright?'' A rather soothing yet deep voice asks you, hands already back on his sides.

Your attention diverts to the man that steadies you. Sharp cheekbones in contrast to the soft jawline, almond eyes, and a slightly chapped lips. You wonder if they're naturally pink or the color comes from cosmetic products.

''Your Highness–'' Eunhye appears out of thin air and your bodies separate right as the royal advisor sets her eyes on you. 

Your Highness? Who could this be?

''Ah, I see, you've met each other already. Shall we take this to the dining..? Her Majesty awaits alongside the King and Queen of South Korea.''

No words are exchange between you. Silence fills the air. Clicking of heels appearing every now and then until they reach where your parents and the leaders of South Korea chatters. Everyone stands before their seats at the sight of two crown heirs.

You might be rebellious but no way you're gonna forget the basic manners each person should possess. Doing a brief curtsy, you earn a loving smile from the Queen of South Korea. It radiates warmth and comfort. 

The man beside you does a bow as well that makes his body fold to a 90 degrees. It was too formal for your liking. Too ancient royalty. Too prince-like. So this is what the mysterious prince of South Korea looks like. Somehow, it irks you to the bones.

Gritting your teeth, you sit at the right side of your father after exchanging pleasantries. Each person that occupies the seats of the table starts to dig in as they begin to discuss the matter which you assume is about your issue.

You thought you could go through this dinner in peace until the conversation, courtesy of your mother, diverts to you.

''I've seen the news but it doesn't bother me at all. The princess is merely having fun, just like those around her age do. I, myself, have gone through that phase. '' Queen Miyoung laughs softly. ''The Crown Princess is only at the wrong place, at the wrong time. We used to get in trouble for sneaking out often before as well, isn't that right?''

With the amount of times you've gotten snapped by the paps and you were caught doing shits that is considered inappropriate behavior for a royalty like you— surely, it's not a coincidence anymore. Ever since your first scandal came up, the media that follows your every step doubles. They are always hungry for a headline. And you cannot deny the fact that you're giving them a reason to use you as one.

Your mother reciprocates her friend's chuckles, shaking her head as they recall their memories during when they were your age. Surprisingly, there's a relief inside you. Well, at least the Queen of South Korea doesn't think you're a defect in the royal family.

''I think the wild-like personality of our dear perfectly contrasts the gentle and tame personality of Prince Jaehyun, which is a charming point that the people will eventually love once they got to know about this marriage.'' Your mother adds. 

Balling up your fist, you had to bite the insides of your cheeks to prevent your eyes from rolling.

''Oh absolutely!'' Queen Miyoung places a hand on her son's shoulder, a smile once again appearing on her captivating features. ''My son here is known in our country as someone who is compassionate, emphatic, and humble. Talented on top of that as well!''

Adoration paints your mother's face. ''So I've heard. I feel assured that someone like Prince Jaehyun will be taking care of my daughter.''

''Please, Your Majesty, you can just call me Jaehyun.''

The velvety voice swoons the hearts of the Queen. ''Alright, alright. My heart is beaming at the thought of having you as my son-in-law soon, Jaehyun.''

What the hell? What did this Jaehyun do for him to gain the favor of those around him? Even your father is nodding and smiling in approval as he shares a conversation with this insufferable prince! 

''Humor me, Jaehyun.'' Your father speaks. ''What do you do as a hobby?''

Probably plan how he can convince everyone with that fake ass personality lol.

Jaehyun pats the napkin on his lips before replying. ''Not much, Sir. I indulge myself in music instruments and sometimes, I also sing for fun.''

Did he do his research? That's your father's favorite pastime!

''Ah, singing! If you didn't know, that's one of the things I like the most especially if I'm consumed with boredom.''

Your mother nods. ''Catch him singing while signing papers at his office. Or while feeding our dogs.''

Chuckles blooms on the table.

''Maybe if we have enough time, you could sing for us?'' Your mother suggests as the others agree. 

Jaehyun shakes his head with a fist hiding his smile. ''I'm not great at singing but I'll make sure to prepare once that time comes.''

Acting humble now, eh? He doesn't have to prepare because you'll make sure that time won't come. The skin on your forehead creases even before you could stop it. This is stressing you out more than you anticipated.

Deciding to release your stress on something else, you proceed to harshly cut your Sole Meuniére with the knife prepared by the kitchen staff all the while pursing your lips. Poor innocent Mr. Fish, suffering from the wrath of a princess.

Operation: Stopping the wedding! Step 1, do things that will turn him off. Forking the sea creature's meat, you make sure to chew extra loudly, looking straight at Jaehyun's eyes as you open your mouth every now and then while munching. Surely, anyone would grimace at the sight of chewed fish meat inside one's mouth and at the sound it makes.

Anyone, Prince Jaehyun not included. You slow down the movement of your jaw when the man only sports a brief squint of his eyes before turning away, as if he didn't see the disgusting view you just showed him. Is he not disgusted? Hah! Maybe this is how he actually chews when there's no people around so he's not bothered by it. That's right!

You nod subtly at the voices in your head, gulping the food down when it starts to feel a little weird on your tongue. Reaching for the glass of water, you sip the liquid to tend your throat.

''So about the wedding next week–''

The people gasp, your father standing up from his seat. Series of coughing sounds emit from you as you pat your chest continuously.

''I'm sorry– the water went down the wrong pipe.'' You face towards the other way while massaging your throat, your back getting tapped by your father.

What were they thinking, mentioning that fucking wedding while eating? What if you die from choking? Far-fetched, but you don't cross out the possibilities anyway.

Clearing your throat, you give them a smile after fixing yourself. ''Did I hear it right? The wedding is next week? Isn't that quite fast? We're not chasing a due date here. Plus, we haven't even announced an engagement yet. I'm sure the people will be shocked if I'm suddenly married or engaged in just a matter of days. I suggest prolonging the engagement for– let's say.. a month? I think that would be realistic enough.''

King Jaekyung sends you a grin. ''Dear, your engagement is trending on social media platforms as we speak.''

''W-what?''

You quickly fish out your phone. You don't even have to search either your name or Jaehyun's because an article about your engagement pops up the moment the app loads.

JUST IN: The Crown Princess Revealed To Be Engaged To The Crown Prince of South Korea

After getting involved in numerous issues, the Crown Princess had dropped off the limelight for a few days only to surprise us with an amazing news. According to the exclusive interview held two days ago, Her Highness shyly reveals that the reason for her disappearance on the radar is because a certain man snatches her focus with a shiny ring!

The princess happily shares that she and Prince Jaehyun, Crown Prince of South Korea, have been in a healthy relationship for 4 years now and still going strong. During the early months of dating, the two royalties express their worries about causing an unnecessary ruckus and heartbreaks if they ever go through a break up. According to Her Highness, a stable relationship wasn't exactly guaranteed as they live in different countries and have heavy responsibilities as the future leaders which is why they avoided letting the people know about their romance until they are sure that they can handle the consequences all at once.

''The country had been experiencing some serious issues back then so when Jaehyun and I started to get in touch, we decided not to make it public immediately. Not only were we just starting but we also didn't want to stir another headline if we ever broke up. We were teenagers 4 years ago, we were kids. We know that we are bound to make mistakes but as the future leaders of our countries, adding our childish break up to the countries' problems isn't something that we desire. Thankfully though, our relationship stayed strong and sturdy. There were a few fights here and there, of course, but Jaehyun and I remained understanding with each other. Those years were the reason why I didn't hesitate to say yes when he proposed to me. It was just the two of us, no cameras, no media, no other people. Saying this might be off to some but I was glad that only the both of us got to witness it. As someone who lives in front of the camera and prying eyes, we enjoyed the privacy and intimacy we had during the proposal. We initially didn't plan to have our wedding soon but we figured that there's no point in prolonging what's been a long time coming. Our love kept us intact throughout the years and until now, I could say that I'm still very much and deeply falling in love with him.'' said the Crown Princess.

Furthermore, Prince Jaehyun also shared that one of the reasons that he hid his face was to protect his relationship with his future lover, now Crown Princess. Show more…

''I don't– I don't remember getting interviewed for this...''

The Queen massages your shoulder. ''That's the power of influence, love.''

A shrieking scream jostles Winter in her bed despite being on the other line. Rubbing her ears, Winter felt as if her eardrums got busted just now. She munches on her cookies while she waits for you to be finished with all your screaming and throwing angry punches at the poor teddy bear beside your pillows.

The screeching stops. You look at Winter through the screen of your phone. ''Humor me.''

Eyes boring to you, she didn't stop licking the crumbs that were left on her fingers. ''What is it?''

''Making up stories about my supposed relationship with that man was one thing, but seriously? Telling the whole country I'm still fucking falling in love? Deeply even!''

You hear your bestfriend giggle. ''You think them making everyone think you're smitten with a man is worse than creating fake ass stories about your love life?''

''Well, Isn't it?''

''You're unbelievable.''

''Tell me something I don't know.'' Getting off your bed, you head out of the room. ''Anyways, text you later.'' Blowing her a kiss, the call ended just as you jog down the stairs.

It's been three days since you last saw that prince and those days might be the happiest of your entire life, sans the nags from your mom to get closer with that twat. For a few suns, you've surprisingly experienced peace.

However, it didn't last a long time. It seems like when God precipitated a rain of misfortunes, you were in the middle– swimming in it. Instead of peacefully staying at the palace just like you had always done, you received the news saying you'll move to a place– an apartment. And you received it through waking up one day and seeing them packing your things without even asking your permission. You were asking yourself whether it's real, or it's just a figment of your imagination as sleep still buzzed in your veins.

Now, what's so unfortunate about having your own place? Jeong Jaehyun, is what's unfortunate. You won't forget that infuriating smirk that he sports as he watches you glare at the boxes in the living room, boring holes in them. Complaints start to spill out of your mouth in a whisper despite being in the same space with him in just a matter of an hour.

Dividing the closet and choosing bedrooms is a nightmare. Everyone knows you've got things enough for 3 people, including your heels collection. Storing your possessions requires a big space, but Jeong Jaehyun thought it was a great idea to upped you and place his stupid rubber shoes (or sneakers) collections first without leaving any space for your heels.

Jaehyun stands by the door, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed as he witnesses you turn into some kind of witch, casting different spells, desperate to cast his annoying ass away. It's so comical that it had Jaehyun's shoulder shake as he stifles his laugh. A witch with a collection of heels? Truly, one of a kind.

''Let's split them, Jeong. You take the right side, I'll take the left.''

''No can do.''

''The fuck? Are you expecting me to leave my babies on the floor?''

Jaehyun quirks a brow. ''What's so bad about that? I'm sure your 'babies' will not mind where they are placed, nonetheless.''

''Well, I do!''

The prince turns his heels, but before walking away, he looks at you over his shoulder. ''Learn to take a no, witch.''

''W–what? A fucking what? Hey! Jeong, you jerk– get back here and repeat what you said! Oh you piece of– you did not just say what I heard you said.''

Needless to say, the night ended with you cackling like the devil you are in your room while Jaehyun stays at the kitchen, pressing a cold compress to his skin, hissing. This should go away by tomorrow, or he wouldn't be able to explain how he got a faint mark of slippers on his forehead. Prepare a protective gear if he wants to taunt a witch, Jaehyun notes.

Operation: Stopping the wedding! Step 2, piss the fuck out of him like he does to you.

Being the menace that he is, Jeong made it his daily errand to annoy the hell out of you. His day wouldn't go by without doing things that ticks you off so much you just wish something important would come up in Korea so Jaehyun would be obligated to leave your country and magically stay there for good. 

Example no.1, the cookies you baked for yourself.

''Jeong, where's the cookies?''

''What cookies?''

''The ones in the tray. On the countertop.''

''I don't know no cookies.''

The crumbs on the corner of his lips says otherwise. You waited for half an hour to eat that!

''You– Jeong!!''

Example no.2 followed not long after. You were running late for a hang out with Winter as you couldn't find your today's pick of pair of heels. No, you wouldn't leave this apartment until you find that very pair. Your outfit won't look put together if you wear a different one.

A quarter before 9 PM, you still haven't found the shoes. Did you perhaps leave it at the palace? That couldn't be! You swear you saw it yesterday. Going back and forth to the walk-in closet, living room, and your bedroom– you're this close to tearing your hair apart and turning the whole apartment upside down.

Your phone pings and displays Winter's message. ''Fuuuck, where did I put that?''

Washing your hands over your face, you tilt your head upwards as you let out an exasperated sigh, stomping your feet in annoyance. When you open your eyes, you see the shoes you had been looking for the past 30 minutes. At the ceiling. Where the broken ceiling fan used to be.

How the hell did that even get— You recall seeing Jaehyun standing on a ladder this morning, saying something about fixing the fan.

''JEONG JAEHYUN, YOU FUCKER!!''

Boisterous laughter echoes from the bastard's room.

You still haven't recovered from the heels incident when example no.3 shows itself.

Hammered from drinking all night long after getting your hands on your shoes, you are swaying and tripping as you reach the apartment, slurring your nonsensical words. You don't know how, but you got home safely anyway. A hangover was expected yet it is harsher than you thought it would be.

''Ah fuck..'' You hold your pounding head.

Heading towards the kitchen, you fend your drying throat some water. Washing yourself is not on the list as you change out of your black bodycon dress and fit yourself into an oversized hoodie and sweatpants. You jog out of the building after fighting the urge to throw up the elevator and arrive at the convenience store in no time, your breath that reeks of alcohol be damned.

Picking up a few items for your hangover didn't take long, the cashier is already punching them a few minutes upon your arrival.

''You..''

You bore your eyes to the cashier. ''Yes?''

''...Nothing, Ma'am.'' He then proceeds to tell you the total of what you bought.

There's no further exchange between the two of you after that, so when you get your plastic bag, you walk back to your apartment. As you prepare yourself some cup noodles, you tilt your head, tsking.

Is it just you or the cashier has been giving you some looks? You might be suffering from a headache but pretty sure, you're sober enough to notice the subtle glances the cashier has been giving you. Did you do something stupid again last night? But Eunhye would be calling you first in the morning if you did. Maybe he recognizes your face? The country's princess' face is plastered everywhere. 

''Whatever. Why am I even thinking about it?'' Ever since the engagement, you noticed that you became more cautious in your actions. The streets say the lioness got tamed by a prince. You say you just learned your lesson not to underestimate your mother's punishments.

Staring at your food, your bladder got triggered at the sight of the soup. Peeing what's probably the alcohol in your system, you stand before the sink to wash your hands. And when you look up, you feel an overwhelming surge of emotion.

You are shocked. You are angry. You want to hide yourself from embarrassment. You want to punch the wall. And on top of that, you desire to unalive a royalty, preferably a crown prince that comes from South Korea.

A smile that appears to stretch the ends of your lips. A massive black dot on your nose and cheeks. Two big horns at the top of your eyebrows.

''JEONG JAEHYUN YOU ARE FUCKING DEAD!!''

There were a lot of pranks that Jaehyun had played, with big ones not failing to show up each week. Hiding your charger. Stealing your snacks. Mismatching your socks. And many more that ruin your day so often that the second thing you'd do after waking up is checking for the prank that the prince had done for the day. You are frustrated. And it's not like you to let these kinds of things pass without getting back. This time, you're making sure he'll order to stop the wedding and regret messing with you.

Shuffling in her bed, Winter huffs. ''What do you want?''

''Help me curate a list of the most infuriating pranks.''

Your best friend frowns. ''What for? Are you turning to a kid now? Or perhaps, you're..'' Then she gasps. ''You're carrying a kid?!''

''..The fuck?'' How did she even come up with that conclusion?

''Isn't that what happens when two people who hate each other's guts live under the same roof? Like enemies to lovers!''

You scoff. ''I told you to stop watching kdramas.''

''I'm Korean, duh!'' Winter rolls her eyes. ''Don't forget I'm still upset you took a long time before telling me you literally moved in with your fianceé.''

''Well now you know, and I'm asking for help so I could escape this hellhole.''

''Wait– so you're telling me to suggest pranks in order for you to move out? How does pranking even equals to that?''

Giving her a bored stare, you click your tongue. ''I'll piss the hell of out him, he won't be able to sleep properly at night.''

Winter squeaks. ''You're pranking the prince–?!''

''Yeah, no shit. Who else would it be?''

''Never thought I'd to live the day I'll see you getting on prank wars with your fianceé.''

''Yadda yadda. Just help me with it, please.'' Winter fake gags as she watches you bat your eyes at her.

''Promise me when you get in trouble, my name won't get drag.''

''You're my ride or die, though..''

''...''

''...''

''...Fine.''

''Yay!!''

Jaehyun passes the clock a glance. He's up early so he doesn't have to worry about getting late to his appointment for the day. His footsteps ring from his bedroom, eventually transfering to the kitchen. Just as Jaehyun reaches out for a mug, a container catches his attention.

''Made too much, you can eat it if you want.'' The sticker on it says.

His eyes must be playing with him. What has gone to the witch? Should he be scared? Although overthinking aside, you mentioned that you only made more than enough for one person, hence giving it to him. Welp, free breakfast for him then.

Sitting down, Jaehyun takes off his coat lest he stains it minutes before he attends an appointment. The lid clicks open and his nostrils hit with an appetizing scent of eggs and bacons. There's some rice and tomatoes on the side as well.

Biting the bacon along with rice, Jaehyun chews slowly, checking out the taste. He then hums, figuring out there's nothing to be afraid of. They taste like what they should've been. Strangely, Jaehyun thinks it tastes more delicious.

Today, you are not at the unit as it is the start of your 'redeeming reputation' era. Jaehyun ponders what you're doing right now. Are you sleepy? He heard you talking to your friend at 2am. Have you eaten breakfast properly? You eat a little in the morning. Are you having fun? Or you're just pretending to be? You don't fancy gatherings unless it's with people you are close to.

Jaehyun doesn't know when he started thinking of you, he just catches himself wondering what you're up to often. Is he catching feelings? Is he getting infatuated? Jaehyun doesn't think much of it. If he's developing feelings, then so be it. Would it be bad for him to harbor romantic feelings for his–

Saliva lands everywhere on the counter as Jaehyun launches forward, spitting what he ate at the empty spot of his plate. ''What the fuck..?''

Using a fork, he pokes the egg, turning it sideways, up and down. The food breaks down with all the movement, revealing the receipt that left an overly salty taste on Jaehyun's buds.

Fishing out his phone, he snaps a picture of the devil food in front of him before sending it to you, uncaring if it looks disgusting and all chewed up.

JH: What the hell is this?

Not even a minute, you reply. As if you've been waiting for him to message you.

You: Uh.. egg? Duh.

Jaehyun clicks his tongue.

JH: I know it's a goddamn egg. Why the fuck does it have clumps of rock salts in it? We put iodized, not the huge ones.

You: Heh. *Tongue out and eyes shut closed tightly emoji*

Jaehyun gulps down his water alongside his irritation, eyebrows meeting each other. He tries to settle for the bacon and rice but the demonic egg fucked up his taste buds and now, he can't enjoy his breakfast. Jaehyun should've known his fate was written the moment he decided to prank you.

Little did the royalty know, it was just the start of his road to slow death. Starting from the salty as fuck eggs, Jaehyun soon finds out you took the remote of the TV and so he couldn't watch the movie he had been waiting for since the announcement of its release date, unfortunately Jaehyun is not one to remember his passwords– he couldn't log in on his mobile phone.

What comes next is the kitchen sprinklers. You must've noticed Jaehyun cooks his own food from thereon (the egg incident) and figures out it'll be a good idea to use it against him. Jaehyun didn't see the lack of labels on the sprinklers, and with his hands already memorizing the placement of herbs and spices, Jaehyun grabs what he knows is the right one. Long story short, the prince opts for food delivery as his kimchi jjigae was for the ants. It was like the demon egg all over again, except this time, it was fucking sweet.

3 days later, when Jaehyun's favorite sneakers went missing, he knew he hadn't misplaced them. Is he unlucky that you're out of the city to do your princess duties? Maybe. Is he gonna let this piss him off? No, that means satisfying your goals. This is nothing, Jaehyun can search for it, surely it's somewhere in the house.

Wrong. Well, it is in the area of the house but it's not in the house. Guess where Jaehyun found his fucking sneakers? On the fucking rooftop. How did you even put that there, he doesn't have a clue. In the end, Jaehyun had to climb a ladder and fell once at the third step (he's quite clumsy, yes) before retrieving his shoes.

As Jaehyun sits through a meeting in a stained white (or should he say pink) dress shirt, he is surely determined to get that win back

Acting civil with your fianceé is something you didn't expect after a constant back and forth of ruining each other's day, but you suppose it's only appropriate in a dinner with the family of both sides. Royals like meals as family bonding it seems, not that you know. Or do your parents consider discussing country matters on dinners as one?

Sipping your champagne, you hum quietly at the taste, too busy in your own world to listen to whatever conversation they are having at the other side of the table. That is until your father softly calls your name. You turn to him and pay attention.

''How's your appearances doing so far?''

''Good, I guess..? If it's not, Eunhye won't let me rest for a day or two.''

It's not like the King and Queen only orders you to help in charities and orphanages solely for building a good reputation for you, they also genuinely care about the unfortunate.

''That's great to hear then.'' Queen Miyoung smiles. And even though you're once struck by her beauty, it doesn't sit well with you.

''Hmm?''

What your mother says next emits a confused look from you. ''Prince Jaehyun will be accompanying you in every schedule, especially those that involves the media.''

You frown. ''But I thought it was for my image? Why would I need him to come with me?''

''Because once people see you getting along with your husband, moreover someone known for his kind and compassionate personality, it'll be easier to convince them that you've changed. Prince Jaehyun will be a great help to you.''

Seeing the grin that the man in front of you is not-so trying to hide, you clench your fist around the cutleries. How irritating.

''It was all thanks to the Prince for he voluntarily comes forward to join you on your appearances including those that does not involve medias.''

So the suffering you'll experience for the following weeks was his idea?

Squinting your eyes at the prince, you reach your foot forward, your face remains unchanging. You observe Jaehyun who's happily eating his food for a few seconds before smirking and stomping down on his foot hard enough to make it hard for him to hide his pathetic whimper.

Concern and worries are thrown at him but he dismisses them with his usual flower smile. Jaehyun then looks at you, his eyes diverting your subtly hidden fist, gesturing to punch him as a representative for your irritation at him. Jaehyun tongues his cheek and chuckles. He dares to fucking chuckle?!

Why is he smiling as if he won the olympics? Why is he so smug about this? And more importantly, why is your heart racing as you stare at the dimples shyly peeking out?

You yelp as you accidentally bite your tongue. Before you could even reach for yours, Jaehyun shoves his glass of water to your hands. Everyone is looking at the exchange, you have no choice but to accept his offer. You wanted them to believe this marriage fell apart naturally, and not because you sabotaged it. Though, you plan on doing the latter.

King Jaekyung's snicker rings on your ears. ''Ah, it seems like the two have been getting along. Perhaps the shared apartment was indeed a great idea.''

Your mother follows right after, clapping lightly. ''Right, right. Look at them, treating each other like real lovers. I'm not gonna be surprised if they themselves request for the wedding to be done soon.''

''How lovely. Are you alright though, darling? What has caused you to bite your tongue?'' Queen Miyoung worries.

''It's noth–''

''She was too busy staring at my face, Mom.'' Now, what the flying fuck is this motherfuck trying to play?

Queen Miyoung squeaks. ''Is that so?''

''Yes– my fianceé here even once said I'm too handsome, I could be up as an exhibit in Louvre.''

You give Jaehyun a smile so sarcastic he will know to run for his life the moment you two get out of here. The other people in the room thought it was a smile fondness instead. While Jaehyun sends you a finger heart, you itch to send him the middle finger.

Your mother shares a giggle with Mrs. Jung. ''Ah.. young love.''

Jaehyun earns another stomp.

Days after the dinner with the Kings and Queens sees you and Jaehyun in a kindergarten wearing pink white polka dots aprons. The little humans cheer as their teacher announces that they'll be designing their own cakes today with the help of the visitors. Visitors being you and Jaehyun.

Raising a piece of fruit, you snatch the kids' attention. ''Who wants some strawberries?'' 

''I want to! I want–!'' Little Seol-a makes grabby hands to you, making you chuckle.

''Okay, okay. Say ah..'' Popping the strawberry in Seol-a's mouth, you receive a cute giggle and 'thank you' from the little girl.

As the teacher announces the start of the making, everyone quickly gets to work, eager to create their most beautiful versions of cakes. Since you also have a cake to decorate, you only look at the kids every now and then, checking up on them. So far, everyone's doing good.

A high-pitched voice calls you. ''Can you please help me with the icing..?''

Smiling, you leave your seat and transfer beside Mina. ''What should we do?''

''I want it pink like Seol-a's, it's so pretty!''

Mina's words pull Seol-a out of her focus, turning to the two of you. Seol-a purses her lips. ''But I'm making it for my mommy. Does your mommy likes pink too?''

Mina looks down and her eyebrows crease in thinking. ''No. My mama likes blue, I think..''

Watching the exchange, you could tell that Seol-a doesn't want to tell Mina off but at the same time, she doesn't want her friend to do exactly the same as she's decorating hers specifically at the thought of her mom.

You decide to step up. ''Then, Mina, would you like yours to be blue?''

Mina ponders for a second before nodding, smiling a bit. ''Okay..''

Seol-a perks up. ''Mina! I'll be pink and yours will be blue, and then let's decorate it the same so our mommies would get matching cakes!''

Mina lights up at what she heard. She will have a matching cake with Seol-a, yet also have her own version. The two girls squeals at the cute teddy bears and gushes over the pastel colors their cakes will be. You smile in adoration.

Minutes pass, little humans ask for your assistance until almost everyone at your table is finished. You feel a tap on your back.

''Hi, Rowoon!''

The chubby boy smiles cutely at you, hugging you. ''Teacher, can you come help me please? Teacher Jaehyun is a bit busy with the others.''

Glancing at Jaehyun, a bunch of kids flock around him, calling his name and asking for his help. It has no sign of dwindling down so you nod, heading towards the boy's place after telling your own group that you'll be at the other table. As you help Rowoon with his cakes, you fail to ignore the conversations he's having with the kids due to the proximity.

''I love chocolates, I eat them everyday! Teacher, do you like chocolates?''

''Yes, of course. Chocolates is one of my favorites.''

''I like chocolate too but my mom won't let me eat more than three. Does your mom let you eat a lot of chocolate, Teacher?''

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head at the core memory of Queen Miyoung scolding him for eating too much sweets. ''No, she doesn't. Your teeth will turn bad if you eat a lot of it and mommies are just taking care of you.''

''Turn bad? Like fall out–?!'' 

''Most likely.'' The little boy covers his mouth dramatically, earning another laugh from Jaehyun.

''Teacher! Your cake is so pretty!''

''Why, thank you, Yuna.'' Jaehyun boops her nose with a clean finger.

''You should get an award for having a pretty cake.''

One kid appears. ''My mommy gives me kisses as an award!''

''Me too!''

''Does your mommy gives you kisses too, Teacher?''

What's with these kids and questions about mommies?

''No, she doesn't.''

''Oh no.. is she mad at you?''

Jaehyun giggles. ''She's not. She used to give me kisses but not anymore because I'm a big boy now.''

''Ah, you don't want kisses anymore?''

Thinking he will earn kisses from the little kids if he says no, Jaehyun tells them he loves kisses. Humming, one of them then points a finger.

''Teacher will give you kisses as a reward if your cake is the prettiest!''

Jaehyun follows the path where the kid is pointing at. ''Really?'' His eyes landed on you, still and unmoving. Jaehyun bites his lower lip to stop the laugh rumbling on his chest.

Jaehyun grins. ''Then I should work on making this the prettiest cake ever made.''

You almost choke on your own spit.

Articles after articles, headlines after headlines. Old people gush about how pure your interactions are. Adults nudge each other at how you sweetly stare. Teenagers envies how Jaehyun performs all love language at you. It seems like everything now revolves around the Crown Princess and her lover.

The crowd certainly loves the contrasts between you and Jaehyun whereas you're more carefree and casual while Jaehyun sticks to his formal attitude. One thing that became popular amongst your supporters, or 'shippers', is the picture of you– like the diva that you are– wearing a pink miniskirt, corset top, socks with ribbons on top, mary jane pumps, and a cream loose cardigan sits beside Jaehyun who is dawned in his usual dress shirt, slacks, and blazer. You cannot forget that fanfic you found wherein Jaehyun is a CEO and you're a supermodel. Shippers are imaginative and delusional at the same time.

It's been 2 months since you've started attending events with the prince and it wasn't as hellish as you thought. Maybe because Jaehyun can't cause a problem in public, or maybe he just doesn't find the need to. Nonetheless, that didn't cease the fire that is the prank war. It goes on and on that even Winter finds it hilarious at this point. Who knew the lovely couple searched for a list of pranks to do in their free time so they could piss each other off?

Lately though, you've noticed (actually it was Winter) that your pranks have been getting less harmful to your daily lives and had just become something to enlighten the mood. Like the clown that pops up when you open the fridge and the snake balloon hidden in the tin can. Very uncharacteristically, you even find yourselves posting each other's reactions on your stories. And if Jaehyun created an instagram account just to upload videos and pictures of you, you're not so sure. A thing you're certain though is that the dislike for Jaehyun had faded away and was replaced by something else. Something you're yet to find out.

''A penny for your thoughts?'' A finger snaps you out of your thoughts. Jaehyun grins.

You shake your head and continue looking for the best quality of vegetables as Jaehyun follows you around, pushing your cart. Another thing that you've grown to get used to is doing groceries with Jaehyun. Very domestic, isn't it?

''Can we buy this one?'' Jaehyun points at the packs of big marshmallows.

Frowning, you shake your head. ''What're you gonna need it for? It'll just expired at the cabinet.''

''No, it won't.''

''How so?''

''I'll eat it before you can even say chubby bunny.''

''No, Jeong.''

''But we have a mini chocolate fountain machine at home!''

''Yes, a fountain machine you, may I say–'' You face him. ''–unnecessarily bought. Literally no reason to buy one.''

''Well now I can finally use it and it won't be useless anymore..?''

Tsking, you walk away to look at the meat. In the end, Jaehyun huffs, staring longingly at his marshmallows before tailing you, steps heavy.

After shopping for at most 2 weeks worth of food, you type on your phone while Jaehyun carries all those bags. So much for being a macho man. Winter sends an atrocious idea and forces a laugh out of you.

''What's funny?'' Jaehyun asks like a curious cat, peeking at your phone.

''Winter says we should announce that all of this is fake at the upcoming press conference and film Eunhye's reaction. God, that would be hilarious honestly.''

''Oh..'' And curiosity finally kills the cat. Jaehyun mums. Are you faking it all this time? Are you not enjoying your time with him? Are you faking having fun whenever you're with him, even now?

You are about to ask Jaehyun for the car keys but as someone who spends their entire life under the spotlight, you know a camera when you see one. Pocketing your phone, you stride towards the man at the car beside Jaehyun's. Said man tries to run away but you are quicker with your feet and grab him by his collar, you hear Jaehyun's call of your name.

''What's wro–''

''Give me the phone.''

''Why– what's happeni–''

''Give me the fucking phone!'' Shoving the man to a car, he winces at the pain in his back. When he surrenders his phone, you delete his video and throw it on the ground before stomping on it, crashing it.

Jaehyun calls your name again. ''Why did you do that? Stop, you're choking him.''' Though obviously wanting to calm you down, Jaehyun doesn't touch you anywhere, opting to wash his palm over his face.

You ignore him and focus on the man shivering in your hold. ''Tell me, what the fuck do want?''

''Nothing–''

You dig your forearm deeper to his neck. ''I'm only gonna ask this twice, you fucking twig. What do you want?''

The man struggles to breathe but attempts to answer anyway. ''I–I was.. paid to–'' He wheezes. ''To prove t-that.. Prince Jaehyun isn't what– what he pretends to be.'' The man coughs.

Raising a brow at what you hear, you wrap your hand around his throat and lean closer to his ear. ''Listen here, fucking microphallus. I know this fucker here looks like he's a worldwide known actor but in reality, he can't act for his fucking life. This man doesn't have a fucking future in acting. He can't fake anything, he's too goody shoes. This prince can't do a thing except entertaining the fucking crowd.''

He is genuine and is not pretending in front of the cameras. Is what Jaehyun can hear between your lines.

''So if you're thinking of exposing him and shit– too bad for you, Jeong lives his life by the books.''

Sighing, Jaehyun tugs at your shirt. ''Let's.. let's let him go. He said he was just paid to do it, didn't he?''

Glancing at the prince, you could see the stress on his irritatingly handsome face and annoyingly, you find yourself to hate the foreign emotion on it. Clicking your tongue, you let go of the man but grips his collar again before he can get away. ''Spread misinformations about my fianceé again, you'll be caressing metal bars the next day.''

Jaehyun holds your hand to take it away from the man and fixes his mask. ''Sir, you can send your resumé at the palace and you should be offered a job with monthly payment. Please don't ever damage someone for the sake of quick money. Money wears off in time, but the damage doesn't.''

With that, Jaehyun tugs you away from the scene. During the ride, silence fills the car and as you arrive at the apartment, that's when you realize Jaehyun's hand is still intertwined with you from the moment he holds it until you reach the flat. Why does Jaehyun look like it's the most normal thing? Why is your heart doing the fucking rabbity pumps?

Jaehyun heaves a sigh. ''Damn.. that's actually crazy– I can't even believe it happened. It went by so fast, my brain couldn't process the fact that someone believes I fake my personality and manners in front of the camera. Like–''

You plop to the couch.

''–what did I even do? Did I upset them? Did they say hi to me one time and I didn't say it back? Did they–''

''I punched the guy because I wanted to protect my friend.''

Jaehyun stops arranging the items you bought. ''What–?''

Hugging your knees, you keep your eyes on Jaehyun's. ''It was my friend's birthday and she wanted to celebrate it in this bar, it was called gangbang. Controversial, I know. We were having fun just like we planned to. But a group of guys at the other table starts joining in. We weren't paying attention to them– or at least, I wasn't. But one of my friends starts complaining about how one of the guys 'accidentally' brushes his hand on her ass too many times. Accidental, my ass. No one wants to come forward so I did, being the hero that I am. I talked to the guy calmly and asked what's wrong. Said guy told me my friend was lying but fuck– my friend was this close to crying about it. And then I got pissed at how his friends defends him when the CCTV clearly shows the incident so I fucking punched him and broke his nose.''

''Next thing I know, news outlets reports me getting involved in a brawl and ruining a fucking commoner's nose without including the reason why I did it.'' You scoff. ''Said friend I protected refused a statement and left the country without defending me.''

Jaehyun sits at the carpeted floor, facing you, looking with worry in his eyes. Something in your eyes flashes but disappears before Jaehyun could even determine what it is.

''And the pictures of me sleeping on the streets?''

Jaehyun hums, caressing your hands.

''They told everyone I was so fucking drunk I couldn't even bring myself home and showed videos of me chugging vodkas, whiskeys, beers straight from their bottle. But why didn't they show the part where all those fucking people around me gangs up on me and calls me a fucking pussy, a no fun, and a fucking killjoy. They didn't stop until I agreed on drinking all those fucking liqours.'' You sniffs, you didn't even know when you started tearing up.

''And that video where my bodyguard had to carry me because I wouldn't wake up? The palace was on emergency alert at that time– why? Because alcohol and sleeping pills were mixed inside me. When I tried to explain what happened, no one fucking believed someone slipped me a fucking bunch of sleeping pills– my heartbeat was fucking slowing down and I was over-sedated, Jaehyun. There's no point of telling them the truth when they already decided I was fucking lying. For fuck's sake, I was near to dying that fucking night– god!'' You bury your head in your knees, shoulders shaking as you sob, fist continuously knocking your head hard.

Jaehyun hugs your quivering figure, whispering words that he knows best that'll comfort and calm you. ''I understand you. I believe you. It's okay, love. You're gonna be okay. I'm here, alright? I'm here, love. Everything's gonna be okay.''

Your cries haven't even died down when you look at him. Jaehyun thinks vulnerability was the flickering emotions behind your eyes these past minutes that he failed to catch on.

''Aside from the people who did those shits, Winter is the only one who knows about the truth. Because she's important to me.'' You hiccup, tears streaming down your face. ''Do you get why I'm telling you this, Jeong?''

There's a clue, but Jaehyun doesn't want to get ahead of you. ''..why?''

You chuckle while crying, more tears roll down your cheeks. ''God, you're so fucking stupid, aren't you? Winter is important to me so she knows the truth. I told you the truth because–'' You bow your head down and hold Jaehyun's hands. ''–you're more than just important to me.''

Jaehyun's breath hitches, and the world stops. ''Oh baby..'' He kisses the back of your hands and the top of your head before hugging you tightly.

He attempts to say the words that have been at the tip of his tongue since you decorated cakes with the kids but you cut him off.

''I will hurt you, Jeong, accidentally. I don't communicate. I don't open up. I find it hard to trust people easily despite sharing a close bond with them. I curse more than I say affectionate and loving words. I push away more than I pull. I'm violent. I am broken, I'm a mess.''

Jaehyun smiles, so handsomely it makes your heart ache. ''You don't communicate and open up? That's fine, I can read between your lines. You find it hard to trust people? That's alright, trusts are earned, not bought. You curse more than being lovey dovey? Well, I'm lovey dovey more than cursing. You push more than you pull? Isn't it great that I'm the exact opposite. You're violent? I could do the talking, you could do the punching. You're broken? I will patch you up again and again. You're a mess? So what, you're a beautiful kind of mess. And if you hurt me and wound my heart.. well then– Sorry, Heart.''

Right there and then, the faceless man that you saw at the bar and had a crush on morphs with Jaehyun's. You chuckle. ''Fate is playing with us, isn't it?''

Jaehyun cradles your face. ''And I'm glad it did. Because I met you.''

''You're such a sap.''

''Oh shush, you love it.''

''Maybe, maybe not.''

''Pfft, wait– does this mean we stop the pranks now?''

''Do what the hell you want, but you'll continuing to be pissed off first thing in the morning.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 3, fall in love with your soon-to-be-groom.

A shudder electrifies the fibers of your body as Jaehyun spreads the cold juices of peaches along the lines of your collarbone, his tongue dips in next, easing to freezing temperature with his warmth. He sucks where the sticky liquid lays previously, his cravings of sweetness beaming in glee as the flavor slowly seeps in him.

Your breath heavy, hands moving to caress your boyfriend's blond strands as his kisses travel to your breasts. The flesh of the fruit circles your nipples before Jaehyun dives in, sucking the hard nubs all the while fondling and playing with the other. Quiet moans of pleasure finally escape your lips after minutes of holding back, your head lolls back and your eyes close shut, sighing from the pleasure slowly building up. Slurping sounds bounces off the four walls of your shared bedroom, it's so obscene that anyone who could hear it could certainly feel how hungry Jaehyun is for the mixture of the peach's sweetness and the bits of saltiness coming from your sweat. It's disgusting to think but Jaehyun's cock gets only harder with each taste.

The surface of his hand palms your clothed core, thumbing where he's sure your clit settles and gives the area a slight pressure, he makes circles around the button that elicits a series of whimpers from you.

Fuck. How he wishes to see this image of you everytime. Your glossy eyes, puckered swollen slips, and whole face scrunched up as your body shivers in his hold, back arching as pleas of having him inside you draws out. 

Break me, wreck me, ruin me. Those are everything your body screams. 

Oh, he will ruin you, alright.

Jaehyun rips the remaining pieces of clothing off of you, gripping your legs apart, wide and open just for him. The way your pussy glistens under the dim lights of the room, the prince's lust fuels up until he could no longer bear the desire of devouring you. 

His mouth, his tongue, his body, his mind -- screams for your taste, it craves the feeling of you thrashing against his embrace as you fall apart. And Jaehyun.. he's just a man. One who could only do much to control himself from drowning his face in the sea of tempting your slick.

''Ooh, Jaehyun, please..'''

From the alley your legs created, you are able to see Jaehyun's face and how his brow quirks in question to your plea. He's so fucking cruel, unlike the gentleman and polite prince everyone in your country had loved since the beginning. If they only know.

The pad of his tongue follows the traces of your juice, squeezing the last bits of the peach and lets it trickle down on your pussy. Dipping the tip of his tongue, he wiggles it until he's deep inside your warm tight walls, clenching on his muscle as he fucks you with it.

''Jaehyun–! Fuck!''

Your hips jerks upwards, practically offering your core to Jaehyun's face. That, Jaehyun accepts. Gripping each thigh, he pins you to the bed as he sucks, licks, and devours more than you offer.

Jaehyun's fingers join his tongue, squelches emitting from your soaked pussy as Jaehyun's digits continuously penetrate it. By the time Jaehyun is about to add the fourth finger, he sees your eyes rolling and notices the constant clenches of your walls– a telltale sign of your climax. And Jaehyun isn't Jaehyun if not a bastard in bed.

He pulls away before walking away to fetch something, all the while unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Jaehyun reaches the foot of your bed, he tugs his pants and boxers down, revealing a girthy and lengthy dick with an angry tip.

Jaehyun pumps his cock, staring at your sore pussy and fucked out face. Your breathlessness is music to his ears.

''Jaehyun, please..''

''Please?''

You open your legs wider, hands dipping between your legs to spread the cheeks of your pussy. ''It's all yours. Please, fuck me.''

''Fucking hell..'' Jaehyun nudges your legs open as you both moan in unison as his cock pushes past your entrance, veins rubbing against the tight velvet walls. Jaehyun plans to wait for you to adjust, but you shake your head. He smirks, and starts fucking.

''My girl is getting brave, huh? Let's how much you can fucking take.''

God, this is why you love Jaehyun in bed. This is the only time you hear him curse, be rough, and manhandle you in positions you didn't even know you're capable of doing.

You ask for it hard, and Jaehyun gives it every time. Wrapping his hand under your knee, he folds your body until it touches your chest as Jaehyun slides deeper, reaching deep inside you that a bump appears every now and then on your stomach.

''Fuck– do you see that, baby? Look at your stomach, shit, it's bulging. Am I too big for your tight pussy, baby?''

Jaehyun pins you against the headboard with his weight as drools escape the corners of your lips, dribbling down your neck. You grip the top of the headboard for support.

''Ah ah ah! S-so good.. so good!''

Jaehyun chuckles lowly. ''Does it, baby? Tell me what makes you feel good.''

''Y–your big–big cock! Fuck, i-it's so, haahh, so big!''

''That's right. My big fat cock is making my girl feel so good; she can't even construct a proper sentence. Do you know how that makes me fucking feel, baby? I feel like a fucking king, you know. Crown Princess, fucking feisty and always hissing at everyone, crumbling down at the feeling of my cock at her guts.''

Jaehyun plows into you deliciously, white spots showing themselves at different parts of your vision as pleasure takes over your body. ''You're so fucking tight, baby. You're choking me.''

Yelping, you hold onto Jaehyun as he withdraws from your pussy, carrying you as he transfers you to the glass window near the bed, pushing you against it before he starts pounding vigorously once again, teeth sinking to break your skin, lapping the droplets of blood. Lewd moans knock out of your throat. Seeing your reflection from the window, you're reminded of those pornos you've watched as a curious teen.

''Jaehyun– uh, uh, Jaehyun! You're gonna make me come!''

''Then come. Come for me, darling.''

You white out, shuddering in Jaehyun's hold as you clamp down on his cock, white ring appearing around his length. Jaehyun buries his head in the crook of your neck as he chases his own high, groaning as he finally reaches it, pulling out to finish himself on your back.

As a minute passes, you both regain the air your lungs have been desperately needing. Jaehyun makes you face him and kisses your lips full of gentleness, so in contrast to the rough pounding earlier.

And of course, Jaehyun isn't Jaehyun if not a sap after sex.

''I love you so much, baby.''

You snort. ''I do too, idiot. Now clean me up.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 4, abort mission.

Come morning, the sunlight seeps through the curtains and shines on your bed beautifully. Jaehyun wakes up, his day already made at the sight of you sleeping peacefully in his arms. You look adorable, like you couldn't harm a fly. You wouldn't if said fly doesn't harm any of your loved ones.

God, Jaehyun is so fucking in love with you. You smile, his day is made. You breathe, suddenly the weather is perfect. You exist, Jaehyun finds every reason to live. You are the water that keeps Jaehyun tethered.

''What the fuck do you want, Jeong?''

The prince chuckles. 8am in the morning and you're already so grumpy. It confuses a few staff members how Jaehyun fell in love with you. If he won't get in trouble, he'll tell them you're a witch and make him drink some irreversible love potion or what.

''Nothing. You're pretty.''

''... Shut up. Just because you look fucking good in the morning.''

''Thank you, baby. I love you.''

''Ugh, you're too in love with me.''

Jaehyun giggles. ''I am. Will you marry me?''

You stop yawning and look at him as though he grew a second head (or third..?). ''The fuck did you say?''

''Will you marry me, baby?''

You scoff. ''Ask that again if you have a ring to out around me.'' The words are mumbled but Jaehyun manages to hear it.

''What?''

''I said your breath stinks, Jeong.''

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jaehyun laughs deeply, caused by his morning voice. You find that hot but you won't te him because he'll use it against you everytime.

Jaehyun reaches for something behind him, inside the drawer, and faces you again. There you see a small red box on his palm, Jaehyun opens it and reveals the ring you've once mentioned to be your dream ring. Wordlessly, he slips the ring on your finger after taking off the fake one.

''But we're already engaged though.''

''Eh.. that was fake, baby. This one's real.''

You raise a brow. ''I haven't even said yes.''

''You'll say no to me?''

''Pfft, you're getting too cocky. I don't like that.''

''Hmm, sure, love.'' Jaehyun smiles warmly and takes you in his arms again. You bury your head in his chest.

''Jeong,''

Jaehyun hums.

''I hate you for making me feel this way.''

Jaehyun settles his hands on the sides of your face and caresses your cheeks with his thumbs. ''I love you too, witch.''

''Psst,''

''What now, baby?''

''I love you, Jaehyun.''

Operation: Stop the wedding! Step 5 and the last step, be in love and marry each other for real.

[tummywrites]

you had the life. happy family, good grades, star of the softball and cheer team, eventually picked for your favorite sorority. every frat bro flirted with you, and every one of your sisters was jealous of you. you were a size 0, no one was skinner than you in your whole house and you knew girls envied you for it, you took joy in watching the fatties you were supposed to consider "sisters" run to the bathroom after dinners at the sorority house, the sounds of their puke hitting the toilet as they tried to purge, desperate for a body as perfect as yours. you meet a hot guy at a frat party one night, and he pours a few too many drinks down your throat and for the first time you're bloated: an unnatural roundness on your otherwise stick thin figure. you notice this and when you get back to your dorm room, drunk and stumbling and just barely able to make it into your bed and grab your vibrator, rutting your hips helplessly into your bed. your belly was so swollen, so full, and you could feel the liquid sloshing around in there, trying to making you sick, but all it did was make you horny.

why?

the next time you felt that feeling, it was at a tailgate and you were there with all your sisters & and their boyfriends, waiting for the game to finish so you could go to the frats and party. you got drunk again and this time you got hungry, so you walked over to the guy's side of the area and grabbed a slice of pizza, trying to avoid eye contact with your sisters nearby who you had overheard complaining about how "fat" they were getting (as they went from 100 to 110 pounds after spending every night partying, not eating all day and drinking all night) you laughed at those girls in your mind as you stood there in your size 0 slip dress, flaunting your body to the girls who fought to look like you. you devoured the first slice of pizza with that on your mind, and couldn't help yourself as you grabbed a second one, and with that, a few bread bites. you eyed the snack tray on the table, with baggies of chips and a cooler full of sugary sodas, but then you saw your Big sister glaring at you from across the room and you glanced down, recoiling in horror (and clenching your legs in arousal) your stomach was rounded out, pulling your dress tight across your belly in an almost obscene way. without a word, you grabbed your bag and stumbled off, embarrassed and drunk and so full, but so turned on for seemingly no reason. why would you be turned on by being so bloated from countless beers and greasy pizza, then being caught by one of the other girls there while you made a pig of yourself?

what sealed your fate was over christmas break, when your high school friends wanted to get together again and have a dinner party. you were still as thin as you had always been, but it lately you did feel a little resistance as you went to tug up your lulu pants which was unusual. your friends from high school, however, were not so lucky. your high school best friend had gained at least 40, maybe 50 pounds--a once skinny girl with a flat chest and stomach, now spilling out of a crop top and skirt, a muffin top cascading over the waistband of a skirt. your other friend, a once sporty guy who hadn't gained a day in his life, now walked in with a shirt that clung uncomfortably to his gut, which brought back that hot feeling in your pussy, your clit throbbing as you saw him, pot belly absolutely obscene to you. everyone brought a dish to welcome you home, and they all insisted you try each dish, then seconds, and thirds of this dish, this that one, and then try this one again--

good thing you had drinks.

by the end of the night, you were so nauseous you were convinced were you going to spew. you had ate so much, potato dishes soaked in heavy cream, the thickest mac n cheese you had seen in your life, cheesecakes, and at least 48 chicken wings, you had lost count after the first two dozen you had shoved down your throat in between cans of beer. you were seeing double, but you saw clearly the face your best friend was making as you chugged down another beer and before you could stop, there was a deafening pop! and the button on your jeans fell to the floor, bouncing off the cabinet and landing square in the center of the kitchen. you were so embarrassed, tears welling to your eyes. in a rush, you screamed for your friends to leave, refusing to listen to them as they tried to reason with you. after you kicked them out, you walked back into the kitchen, still crying and hot with shame, staggering as you try to bend over and grab the button that taunted you from the floor. you held it in your palm, then looked down at your belly, which was rounded out further than it ever had, and obscured your view of your feet as you glanced down, the movement sloshing all the countless cans of beer in you. your crop top couldn't hide the actual belly you were forming now, and you looked up to your reflection in the black tv. fuck. you looked pregnant. you looked at the cheesecake on the counter as you wiped your tears, one hand grabbing and the round gut spilling out of your jeans. you reached out for the tray, and without pausing ate the rest, not even bothering with silverware as you glutted yourself. before you could stop yourself, you had finished the whole cheesecake, then the rest of the mac n cheese, and then stumbled over yourself to grab the last two cans of beer, pouring them into a big cup together, throwing your head back in desperation as you drank both in seconds. you fall over chairs and tables to get over to the couch, belly so distended you let out a whimper whenever its jostled, and pass out there.

ten years later, you're 29 years old and stepping off the scale in front of your fridge. your mark your weight on the fridge, and open up while reaching for the closest bottle of wine. despite your attempts to lose weight, you've gained 15 pounds in the past month. you're 302 pounds, you wear a 4XL and a 24 in jeans, which are barely hanging on. your ass barely fits in the drivers seat of your car and your bed creaks when you lay on it. you've broken your computer chair so you moved a dining chair into your bedroom, but your thighs spilled over the side, so you had to give up the computer. you hadn't talked to most of your friends in years, probably not since new years after that christmas, where you first fell into your gluttony and addiction. you spent the rest of that break stuffing your face to cope with your feelings, and by the time you were supposed to back to school you were 30 pounds heavier and not a single item of clothing fit your growing body. you were 140 pounds, and the moment you stepped out of your car on shaky legs in front of your sorority sisters, you knew it was over. they all began to laugh, heaving and pointing in malice at the inches of overhang you had falling over your skirt, which was only zipped up halfway, covered by a shirt that looked like it was painted on. you dropped out within a few days and spent the days partying, drinking, and stuffing your face at the end of the night, rubbing your pussy until you came. you couldn't resist the feeling food gave you.

[last-starry-sky]

too sweet pt 4 - innocent!reader x graves

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

✨Thank you again to the lovely @shotmrmiller for letting me work off of her original idea!🌟

NSFW(finally, lmao) - MIND THE WARNINGS - MDNI: [lots of pet names, oral, again i’m REALLY leaning into how much of a virgin reader is, religion mention, pov switches, loss of virginity, unprotected piv (cumming inside), more of graves being just the absolute worst in both ❤️ and 💀 flavors (it’s all in his head. No harm comes to our dear reader), Phil talks you through it, this is 13 pages (5.9k words) of me absolutely lost in the sauce, so buckle up friends. a/n at the end!]

You fell the short distance out of Phil’s arms to the bed with a soft oof! You bounced up once before his pillowy comforter surrounded you, sweetly swaddling you like baby. You closed your eyes, catching your breath as you surrendered your body into the cool, linen-freshness swallowing your body. You hoped closing your eyes and a few deep breaths would stop the ceiling from spinning. You told yourself that your stomach was turning from nerves, nothing else. 

You really didn’t want puke to be a part of your first time. 

You opened your eyes as Phil ran his hands up your legs, making room to stand between them. Your dress was still rucked up to your waist, the shamefully wet gusset of your panties on display. The way he looked at you had your hands curing into the sheets above your head. It was so dark. It was like nothing you’d seen cross your sweet boyfriend’s face before. Like a wolf ready to pounce, tear apart, consume. 

It worried you, but you were still hitching your knees around his hips, pulling him closer. His hands squeezed at your hips. His dark visage took on a little of his old self as his eyes dipped, a playful smile creeping across his mouth.

Why were you such a liar to yourself? He could never scare you. He excited you. Every single time.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hands smoothed up to, then over, your underwear. You expected him to rip them off. Instead, he circled your waist, urging you to sit up as he pulled your dress off your body. 

“There y’go, baby. Hands up,” he said, an edge of his usual humor in his dark voice, as he finally pulled the tight pink thing off you. 

He doesn’t watch where he throws it. Somewhere in the room behind him, you think. You don’t know either. You can’t make yourself meet his stare, focusing your wobbling vision instead on your hands clenched in your lap, of the warmth of his body pouring into the space between you. You know he’s staring at your exposed breasts. That’s all that matters to him. A soft whistle falls from his lips as he wraps his hands around your thighs. 

You hide your blush by ducking your head into your chest, reaching up behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. He stopped you with a hand on your chin, making you face him.

“Leave it on, doll,” he says before hauling you in for another kiss.

You don’t know why, but this kiss felt so more intimate than the others. You’re flushed and panting against him as he holds your jaw against his, slowly stroking your tongue with his. Maybe it’s because you’re almost completely naked, his warm hands brushing down your chilled back. Oh, you could just about beg him to keep touching you. It could be how he’s got you pressed flush against him, your nipples hardening against the cool cotton of his button down shirt and legs hitched on his hips. His hard dick is nudging at your pussy through his pants, making you whine when he ruts just right against your clothed nub. It feels weird, like nothing you’ve felt before. Weird, but damn if some basal part of you doesn’t crave it. 

He broke the kiss, peeling himself away to pick you up again, just enough to throw you to the middle of the bed. He gets right back into position between your legs as you settle back into the fluff of his blankets. You don’t know what to do now as he takes a second to shimmy out of his button down. What does he expect of you? Should you lay back? Before you can overthink, you fall back onto your forearms. He tossed his shirt off the bed, his hair all ruffled, white undershirt pulled up to expose the muscles of his stomach, as he turns back to you. 

“Fuck are y’ gorgeous like this, darlin’,” he says staring down at you while unbuckling his belt. 

You wonder if he can feel your legs shake. You feel a fresh blush flush down your body. You chew on your bottom lip, trying not to stare as he lets his trousers fall down to his knees before kicking out of them. There’s a muffled metal jangle as the whole lot falls off the end of the bed to the floor.  

“Now where were we . . .” he mused with a quiet laugh as he crawled over you, pushing your back flat to the mattress before cradling your head to his for another kiss.

You thought it wouldn’t be so different, having him on top of you. You had been grinding against each other for going on hours at this point. You were slowly getting used to what he felt like, how your bodies slotted together best, how he touched you, and where it made sense for you to touch him. The addition of his weight, though? Amazing. You loved it. The feel of all of his muscle and bone, being free to feel each other’s skin free of clothing, it had you trembling underneath him. To have a whole person, let alone this powerful, muscled man, resting between your thighs, your chest squished to his as he sucked open mouth kisses under your jaw, had you clawing at his hair and moaning sweetly into the dark. 

“Thas’ it, baby. Tell me how y’like it,” he sighed as he continued kissing down your neck, his hands running down your sides, forcing a bow in the small of your back. 

You moaned a high pitched ah! when he placed a delicate kiss to your nipple. 

“Oh. Y’like that, do ya? My sensitive little thing,” he asked sucking the little nub into his mouth. 

You answered with a high-pitched keen, your hands pressed into the pillow above you. It did feel good. So good. Your body felt so hot and damp, sheets and hair sticking to your skin. He continued to suck at your nipple, every once and a while catching it with his teeth while playing with your other. He rubbed smooth little circles around it until it was hard, then pinched it, forcing a whiny, pained moan from you. 

Why was he doing this? He would make you feel so so good you felt like you were floating, just to turn on a dime to bite or pinch you were you were the most sensitive, pulling you out of the moment. You didn’t understand him. 

You looked down. He had that wide, wry, hungry smile. Eyes hooded and dark. Dangerous. You gasped when he suddenly looked up, catching your stare like a predator.

“Sorry baby,” he said syrupy sweet, giving your nipple a quick kiss. “‘m playin’ with you. I know. Don’t mean to. Gonna make you feel good.”

You didn’t understand what he meant until he slid farther down your body, pulling your underwear with him as he rocked up onto his knees. Your eyes quickly snapped up to the ceiling. You couldn’t help but tremble, knees knocking together until he pulled your panties past them. He took your feet in hand as he shucked them off you completely. There was a light sound as they hit the hardwood floor somewhere in the abyss behind him.  

He threw one of your legs to the side with a hand on your knee, stopping you from closing it back by slotting himself deftly back into place. You heard him breathe out a shuddering breath as he finally got a good, full look at you. His hand swept down your leg from your knee, falling closer and closer to your aching core.

“Phil,” you whined, so muffled by your arms covering your face that even you barely heard it.

A hand pushed your arms above your head, exposing your tear-filled eyes. He stared down at you, pushing your arms into the pillow with one hand, his other coming to rest on your stomach, just above your pussy. 

“Listen to me now, baby, okay?” he said lightly tapping your mons with his thumb, refusing to let you break eye contact. “‘m gonna make you feel good. You know that, right?” When you didn’t answer, he leaned down over you. “I’d never, ever, hurt you,” he whispered, nose nudging yours as he spoke. “Love you too much. Want you . . . want you to enjoy this as much as I will.”

You were shocked silent for a moment. Tears dried in the corners of your eyes before you were able to squeak out, “Love me?”

“‘course,” he said pecking a kiss to your bottom lip. 

You wanted so badly to grab him, to hold him close, to force him to kiss you again because, well . . . did you really need a reason? He just told you he loves you! You’d hoped for months that what you felt - you were over the moon for him from the moment you met - wasn’t really just a crush, a passing summer fling. You wanted to know that he was just as serious about your relationship as you were. You’d worried that the summer would end, you would go back to school, he would go off to some exotic and exciting place halfway around the world and your relationship would slowly peter out. 

Eventually, you knew, he would forget about you. After all, you had been denying his advances to make your relationship physical for a while. No matter how gentle they were or how nicely he took your refusals, you knew he would get tired of asking eventually. Guys were like that. Or so you’d been told. 

But now, he’d said he loved you. With those words, all of your anxiety washed away in one clean wipe, like a wave washing up the shore. All was good in the world. It put your mind at peace. Your apprehensions dissolved into his feather-light kisses and gentle touches. The only thing you wanted was to hear him say it over and over again but your couldn’t. All you could do was uselessly clench your hands in his strong grip. 

His fingers stroked ever so slowly down the seam of your pussy. He was treating you like a feral cat or an unbroken horse; with a light touch, soft words, and persistence. 

“Breathe,” he instructed, nuzzling into your neck again to kiss at the spot under your ear that made you moan. 

You did, pulling in a deep, shuddering breath that cleansed your need to cry. He placed another kiss on your neck as he let your hands go. Finally. You laced your free arms around his shoulders immediately, feeling him smile as he continued to mouth kisses over your pulse.

“That’s good, darlin’. Relax. Just like that,” he whispered as he ran his hand down your side, still soothing you. 

A moan punched out of your lungs when he pushed past your outer labia with a single finger, stroking just once, top to bottom, through your slick folds. You were sloppy, dripping wet. His head collapsed into the crook of your neck, a muffled, “fuck” following. He didn’t move, you trembled as his finger swirled up to circle around your clit.

“Ah! Phil,” you whined.  

“I know. I know,” he huffed breathlessly, lifting himself off you. 

He looked down your body to watch himself rub tight circles around your nub for a moment. He groaned before pulling his hand away. You cried out when he stopped, but he left no time for argument. He was grabbing the backs of both your knees, repositioning you open and shuffling backwards out of your grasp, laying kisses down your chest and stomach as he went.

“Lemme, fuck . . . just lemme make y’ feel good, sweets.” His mouth working farther south until you could feel his breath tickle your pussy. “Make you cum, promise,” he whispered, his next kiss tonguing at the base of your clit.

Your back arched, a needy “oh!” punched from your lungs. He didn’t wait for you to respond to dive in, thankfully. You were beyond words, already shaking from nerves and pleasure. 

“Want to taste you so bad,” he mumbled as he kissed slowly down the hood of your clit before swiping at the exposed head with his tongue, a spike of pleasure following.  

The feeling was amazing, unlike any pleasure you’d been able to bring yourself. You’d experimented before, by yourself, of course. Always in the dead of night, when you were certain your parents were asleep. You would wake up hot, a dream you couldn’t remember troubling you, making you ungodly slick in your pajamas. You would guiltily snake a hand down your body, trying not to move or make a sound as your finger slipped through the sopping mess you’d made. Those stolen moments were always something you would think of again in church with burning cheeks: how you’d sinned and now you must beg forgiveness. Not that you thought God would care, but you never could bring yourself to completion. You couldn’t find that beautiful, spine-chilling, white-hot peak that so many romance novels described. 

It made you worry, as Phil gently swirled his tongue around your clit making you shiver, because he was clearly putting in a lot of effort. You really didn’t want to disappoint him. Didn’t want his first intimate memory of you to be one where he couldn’t make you cum.

“Hey,” he whispered, pulling himself out of your pussy just enough to look at you down your body. You squirmed as he held eye contact while licking another swipe up your clit. “Clos’ y’ eyes. Breathe. Relax.”

After you did all three, exactly as he asked, he gave your hip a squeeze before nuzzling himself back between your thighs. 

“That’s my girl,” you heard him say before the lewd, wet clicking of his mouth against you filled the room. 

He continued to gently lick at you, drawing loose circles with his tongue before sucking your nub into his mouth. He continued that pattern: slow, patient movements with an ungodly endurance, until your thighs started to shake against his head. You had been here before. A lovely hot coil budding in your gut, wrapping tighter and tighter. But this time, it wasn’t stopping. 

Maybe this is what you had needed all along: someone to take control and do all the work for you. Someone who wouldn’t stop to look nervously toward the door, or worry if someone down the hall could hear, or even think about if this was morally wrong. All he cared about was you. Your pleasure, the soft plush of your thighs around his head, your voice cracking as you moaned his name and rocked your hips against his face. 

Phil wound his arm around your leg, pressing your hips to the bed with a firm hand on your lower stomach. He used his leverage to splay you open before diving back in at that relentlessly slow pace. You threw your head back, a string of breathy pants falling from your mouth until Phil reached up to place your hands on his head. Your fingers carded through his soft hair. He tipped his slick-coated face to the side to sneak a peek at your blissed out face as his tongue pressed up the side of your clit. Your fingers tightened, grabbing a fistful of hair, as a delicious tingle danced at the edge of your clit, right were his tongue flicked. 

“So sweet. Taste so good, baby,” he said in a breathy whine. 

You couldn’t answer, only able to buck abortively against the strong arm holding you down, hoping it would make him pick up the pace. He laughed before lowering back down. His actions became harder and faster: nipping at your hood at every rotation as his tongue flicked aggressively against your poor, exposed pearl. 

It was frustrating. He was no longer pulling you higher and higher as effortlessly. Everything he did, no matter how good it felt, was just maintaining your buzz. You could feel your clit vibrating you were so close, but he wasn’t pulling you over. It’s like he was teasing you with that tingle in your belly, giving you just enough to keep you moaning, begging, as you fell into the hot wet swipes of his tongue, before pulling back to make you work for it all over again. It made you cry in frustration. 

It wasn’t enough. You needed more. 

Your eyes were screwed shut when he pulled away and asked, “What, baby? What-”

“More!” you squeaked. “Please, more!”

He nodded as he readjusted your body to sling a leg over his shoulder. You cried out as his finger pressed to your spit-slicked clit with a pressure that you’d never felt. Your hands just couldn’t compare to his. It wasn’t fair. Electricity shot up your spine as you shivered in his arms at the white-hot pleasure that flared out. 

“That’s my girl. There you go,” he whispered as he kissed down your clit to where his finger worked in hard, tight circles. You bucked into each roll, your hole clenching uselessly against nothing. “There you go,” he repeated as you shuddered, tip-toeing closer and closer to that edge.

Want became your mantra. You could feel it. You wanted it. You want. You want. You want.   

“Please, Phil. Please,” your voice a thready whine. “Want to cum, so bad.”

“You can do it, baby,” he cooed sweetly against your mons. “I can feel ya. So tight. Y’so close.” He laid a kiss on your clit before looking up to catch your teary eyes. “Cum for me,” he commanded, with a voice fucked out, rough, stern.

And, oh, did you follow him. 

It was just enough. Like a breath blowing the head off a dandelion, it sent you scattering into a million pieces. You snapped beneath him, a scream tearing from your throat as your leg clamped down on Phil’s shoulder. Your fingers tore at his hair, the only thing grounding you, as you lost control of your body. You writhed against the sheets, struggling to draw in air as electrical pleasure fried your brain. It was beautiful at the top. A pure and white peaceful glow: no sound but your own breathy moans, no feeling but your boyfriend’s fingers swirling again and again over your twitching clit, extending your flight. 

You never wanted to forget this moment. 

You rolled your head to the side as over-stimulation hit, whining at the feeling of the cool pillow beneath you. A sudden jolt back into the real world. Phil stopped touching you without you having to tell him, which was nice. Your whole body went slack, dazed, pliant. You didn’t think you could form words at the moment even if you wanted.

Phil groaned as he rose up from between your legs. The sudden loss of his warmth made you whine again. You were struck with this intense, emotional need to keep him next to you. He’s yours, an animal part of your brain told you. Do not let him go. 

It made you roll your head to the side and open you eyes. You were just in time to see him pull his undershirt off his head, wiping his mouth with it before rolling it down his arms. Your eyes widened at the dark design across his left pectoral, right above his heart. You looked up at him nervously, wondering why he never told you he had a tattoo.

“Yeah,” he said looking down at the eagle topped globe, an anchor roughly rendered behind it, swiping at it with his thumb like he wanted to wipe it away. “Got it when I was young. Stupid. Too much money,” he said with a small smile as he finally tossed his shirt to the side. He rubbed your hip as he looked down at you with a smoldering gaze. “Hope that doesn’t ruin anything.”

“No,” you whispered, head rolling back and forth as you suddenly found the courage to let your eyes trail down his body.

Good God, what a body he had. You knew he was fit from the tight fitting t shirts and shorts that fell just above his knees that he wore all summer. He had been on the edge of bulky when you first met him but had tapered down into a more lean physique through the long, lazy summer. His chest and arms were his pride, you’d gathered, from how he refused to let them go soft with the rest of his muscles. After all, he needed a place for you to rest your head, didn’t he? And how could he let himself not be strong enough to pick you up and carry you around? To have everything revealed to you, to see how his chest tapered into his waist, how his hips (now supporting your legs) poked above the band of his briefs . . . that he was rolling down his thigh with his free hand. 

Phil didn’t break his gaze, drinking in the nervous, almost fatally curious, expression on your face as he took his time shuffling off his underwear. He went a little bit down on one side, just  to the bend of his hip, then slid his hand across the elastic, ignoring his cock, to push the other side farther down. It was unnecessarily slow, but he loved teasing you. Loved watching you react even more. One of your hands was already clenched around nothing as it rest against your stomach. The other was plastered across your mouth. Your hand couldn’t cover how wide your eyes were, or how your eyebrows went from bunched in concern to halfway up your forehead in surprise. 

It made him smile as he finally pulled himself from his briefs, revealing himself to you. Your eyes darted suddenly away, but you couldn’t smother the soft, “oh” that fell from you lips or the fresh blush spreading down your chest. It was delicious. 

He took his time pushing his underwear down his muscled thighs, stepping toward you on his knees to get them shuffled down his lower legs. The time it took was no bother. Why rush when he had the most beautiful creature in the world right in front of him? 

He held your legs open, petting your skin with slow, soft circles, as he looked at the glossy mess he’d created between your legs. It was amazing. You were wet from your bikini line to your thighs, and it was sweetly pooled in every crevice. He couldn’t help but reach out, running the tips of his fingers through the slick pooled around your clit.

“Phil-” you cried, covering your face with both hands.

You tried to jerk your legs closed too, but he was too quick. He caught them, forcing your knees back around his hips. This was as good a sign as any that it was time to move things along.

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay,” he whispered, leaning down on his elbows to hold you in his arms. 

He had to peel your hands away from your face to get a look at you. There was no way he was going to miss out on how you looked through all of this. He knew this position wouldn’t be the most comfortable for you, but he couldn’t help but be a little bit more selfish. You would understand one day that your pain was worth the look he caught as his cockhead nudged accidentally against your clit, sliding effortlessly up through the combination of slick and saliva. 

You just looked so helpless, so lost. It should have hurt him, how could you not trust him after everything he’s done so far? Nevermind the amazing orgasm he just gave you. But he was an adult: a man with a deep, dark, corrupted soul, so he understood. You needed him to continue leading you. Lucky you, leadership came naturally to him.

He wiped a line of tears from your lashes as he held your face in his hands. 

“What’s wrong, darlin’? Doin’ okay?” he asked.

You shook your head yes, squeezing out fresh tears from your eyes as you gripped his hands.

“Just . . .” you warbled out, trying to catch your breath, “just scared.”

“Why you scared, baby?”

“It’s . . . is it . . .” you said trying to turn your head to look down your body to where he was pressed to you, cock barely humping through that sinful slick. “Is it gonna hurt?”

He let out the breath he was holding. “No, sweetie,” he said shaking his head. “Not if you listen and do what I tell you. You can do that, right?” 

He added a little smile at the end and you smiled back with a nod, tears drying. He felt his cock pulse as he leaned down to kiss you. Of course you would be so good, do as you’re told, let him take care of you.

A path straight to hell, and you’re paving it with easy choices and good intentions.

He pushed further down to deepen the kiss, tongue laving over your lips until you tipped your head back with a sigh, opening your mouth, letting him in. It would be a good distraction for what he had to do next. He propped himself up with his free arm, reaching down to notch his cockhead at your entrance. It’s rough and sloppy, not being able to see where he’s going. The mess between your legs didn’t help either. He slid his cock around through your slick, coating his hand as he barely missing your vagina several times before an aggressive nudge of his hips popped it in. 

It knocked the breath out of you. He felt you clench at the head of his cock, breaking away from the kiss with a breathless whine. He stopped you before you could protest. 

He nuzzled into your neck and groaned, “Fuuuck, baby. I’m in. That’s it. I’m in.”

You still squirmed and whined. He should have known you would need more direct instruction.

“Listen to me, darlin’,” he said breathless, picking himself back up to look at you, nudging his cock around experimentally, trying to work himself further into that tight, heavenly chanel. “Look at me,” he commanded.

You stopped, opening your eyes. They’re rimmed with fresh tears. 

“Gotta relax okay, baby? Or else it’s gonna hurt. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

He watched you let out a few shallow breaths, chest heaving with each one, before inhaling one deep one. You held the breath for a second before pursing your lips in a pretty circle, blowing it out. 

“Better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

“‘kay. Now, listen to me,” he said leaning over you enough to let his hair brush over your face, mattress squawking as he pressed your legs to your chest. A low ohhh wringing out of your throat. Your heels caught on his hips. “Gonna push in a lil’ bit, but you gotta stay relaxed. Can’t clench, okay?” 

Not that he couldn’t wait to feel you clenching around him. Fuck, he couldn’t even imagine how tight, how wet, how fuckin’ good, you would feel around him. He was pulsing just imagining it. You were his little virgin, after all. He was going to be your first and only and he was going to feel it, all of it. 

“Let me know if it hurts and I’ll stop,” he said with a groan, forcing himself deeper inside. 

You didn’t say anything, just wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, forcing his face down into the crook of your shoulder. He placed a kiss there, right on the chain of your necklace. He waited a few seconds as he held your hips, then finally began to pull his cock in and out just a bit. Good Lord, he was fucking you. Finally fucking you. A low whine, like a wolf or coyote howling far off in the distance, rattled in the back of your throat, almost too quiet to hear. 

He pulled against your arms, breaking your weak hold easily, to look at you again. You looked tired. Fucked out and exhausted, with half-lidded eyes barely able to stay open. That sheen of glitter-like sweat was back, sparkling down the column of your neck and across your temples. You had let your arms fall over your head, and there they still lay, heavy against the pillow. His poor girl was tuckered. 

“Okay?” he asked, trying to keep the movement of his hips smooth and shallow. 

He’ll do whatever he has to now to have you enjoy this, however slow and gentle he had to be. It’s bait. He needs to plant himself in the back of your mind. That will get you to come back for more, to want to stay, stay here with him. That’s when he’ll work his magic. Ambushing you right when you feel safe. Catch his pretty little prey in his snare and never let you go. Unfortunately for him, that meant not blowing his load the second he felt your slick run down his shaft.

“Yeah,” you croaked. Keeping your eyes open and following his voice taking all of your sapping strength. 

“Hurt?” he asked, picking up his pace, but not trying to force anymore of his cock in you. 

Just have to get in a little more, he tells himself. Work her open a little more and then you can.

“No . . .” you said with a whine, letting your head roll to the side, eyes closing, as you fell into his comfortable rhythm. Phil watched as your breasts swirled in time to his thrusts. Such a pretty dance they did. He had to bite his lip from leaning down to nip at them. “Just a little sore.”

“Like you pulled a muscle?” he said with a smile, brushing the sweat-slicked hair from your forehead. “That’s normal, babe. You’re doin’ so good.”

You nodded back at him, cheeks flushing as he trailed his fingers down your face. You were so cute like this. He let his hand brush innocuously over the little silver cross in the hollow of your neck as he pulled it back. 

What a good girl you were.

“‘s lot for your poor little kitty to take all at once, honey,” he said sweetly, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. He was ramping up his pace as his own pleasure curled within him, his hips snapping into yours with a wet smack as they met. He felt himself push deeper and deeper into you, your greedy pussy swallowing everything he gave you. Before he knew it, fuck, he was right where he wanted to be. “Don’t you worry, you’ll feel all better by the mornin’.”   

You turned to meet his mouth with a whine. He caught you, sealing his lips over yours as he pounded full thrusts into your wet hole. His need was clouding his mind, narrowing his vision to a pinpoint centered on the thought of his cock bruising your sweet little cervix. You opened your mouth, to scream or moan he’ll never know, but he was right there, prepared, diving in to silence you with his tongue. You clenched down on him as he smothered your voice and it had him seeing stars.

Not that he had to make this last any longer, but it just felt so good. He would have fucked you all night if you let him, pulling back as he came close to that peak, denying himself climax until the very end, until you begged him to finally cum in your sore pussy. 

Later. One day, he told himself.  

Tonight was the end of phase one. Tomorrow began phase two. It was the next step of the plan he had so carefully executed over the last couple months. If this went well, he was in the clear, golden. He sighed with contentment as you tipped back your head and moaned. He would have you, completely and finally. All he had to do was follow his plan.

He couldn’t ignore how badly he wanted to cum anymore. His cock was so engorged it was getting increasingly harder to pull out of you, especially now that you were clamping down on him every time he managed to nail you right in the cervix. 

He pulled himself out of his head and let his body control the last of his actions. He pulled you into his arms, buried his face in your neck and whined out, “Fuuuuck baby. Fuck. Feel so good. I’m gonna-”

When he felt your legs wrap up around his back with a whine, he sent out one last message from the rational part of his brain: Don’t pull out. He could only hope the other side of him would obey.

He didn’t remember much once the endorphin rush of his orgasm hit. He felt you wrap your arms around his neck, and your heels bury into the small of his back. You might have even whined out his name. All he could follow was the play-by-play of those last few seconds after: ramming himself in as deep as he could, the feeling of his cock expanding within you, pushing back against those taut muscles, then he was lost in the rush of his seed pumping deep deep within. 

He remembered a groan as he reluctantly pulled himself off, then out, of you. How small you looked, sweating and trembling against the sheets as he searched the bed for a blanket. He was still in a haze as he pulled your back to his chest, pawing at the blanket with no motor control in an attempt to share it between the two of you. 

It felt amazing to finally have you here: falling asleep, skin to skin, in his bed. He let out a long breath, stretching his legs down the bed, as his mind cleared. He could still feel your heart pounding where he held you in his arms. How quickly you had surrendered to sleep. He buried his face in your hair and inhaled the last remnants of your fruity shampoo - or was it your body spray? he didn’t remember - through the sweat and sex in the air. Only then did he finally let himself doze off.

He needed all the sleep he could get. Tomorrow was a big day. 

a/n: hello. it’s me. The girlie who ACTUALLY popped her cherry in her late twenties :) Also, sorry this took so long!!! I have no good explanation besides the fact that I was working on other things for lovely anons. I took a lot of time trying to get everything feeling just right and I still feel like it’s not great :( (i feel i will never write a good orgasm i s2g) but here it is! It’s also very loooong because i wanted all of the sex DONE and in one goddamn chapter. Anywho, hope you all like it! 

[campingwiththecharmings]

driver!jake x rich girl!reader

👀👀👀👀

i...am 99.9% sure @melodygatesauthor has probably written this (or something similar lol) but i am happy to put my spin on it as well 😌

---

You're wearing that skirt again.

The one he's sure you know drives him crazy, the one that's so short it barely covers anything, the edges fluttering slightly as you walk, granting him glimpses of the tantalizing treasure beneath.

He tries not to stare, really he does, knows it's not the most professional thing to do (especially as an employee of your father's) but...it's just so hard (in more ways than one).

You certainly don't make his job as your driver easy. Dancing and drinking into the early hours of the morning with your friends (all of whom have tried to pick him up at least once), drunkenly piling into his limo in your designer dresses and heels, giggling and screaming as he quietly drives you back to your penthouse (where the party will likely continue). If he wasn't paid so much, he might be more annoyed at the state of his backseat after he's dropped you off--more than once, he's had to have his (normally) pristine limo professionally cleaned after one of your overserved friends has puked all over his leather seats.

Yes. You're definitely lucky he's paid so well.

Tonight had started as it usually did, with you and your friends asking to be dropped of at some club downtown. It's 1 a.m., and Jake knows he still has a few hours before the club closes for the night. Deciding to stretch his legs, he exits the vehicle, shucking his jacket and tossing it in the driver's seat. He closes the door with his hip, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.

Briefly, he considers taking a walk but this part of town is a tad sketchy and he's not too comfortable leaving his car unattended here in the street. Instead, he opts to lean against the side, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He lights it, groaning softly as he takes a pull, the smoke filling his lungs as he inhales deeply. Jake closes his eyes to savor the pleasant buzz in his head from the nicotine, tipping his head back a little and exhaling slowly. He opens his eyes just as the last tendrils of smoke are blown away by the warm, night breeze, and sees you.

There you are, standing alone on the sidewalk in front of him, designer coat folded over your arm, soft smile on your lips. Jake starts, immediately throwing the cigarette down and stomping it out, his back going rigid as he stands to attention.

"Oh, ah--Ready to go, Miss?"

Your lips twitch, eyes dragging slowly down the length of him before you say, "Yes. Take me home, Mr. Lockley."

Jake nods, briefly wondering where the rest of your group is as he pulls open the door to the back of the limo for you. When you don't get in immediately, he looks back, questioning.

With a twinkle in your eyes that he hadn't noticed before, you tell him, "I'd rather sit up front this time, actually."

He nods slowly, wondering what game you're playing with him now. "Of course, whatever you'd like."

Jake closes the back door and turns, pulling open the passenger door for you instead. You make eye contact with him as you brush past, the delicious scent of you invading his senses.

Yeah. He's in big trouble.

Absently, he wets his lips, closing the door once you're inside. He takes his time making his way back around to the driver's side, trying to compose himself for the ride back to your penthouse.

You've always been a hard one for him to read. You've teased him before, sure, but...he'd always figured you were just having fun, that you were just toying with the hired help--that's just what spoiled, little rich girls did, right?

He tosses his jacket into the back and gets in, closing the door and pulling his seat belt on. The engine purrs to life when he turns the key in the ignition, the sound calming his nerves a little. He puts the car into gear, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. You're looking out the window, head turned mostly away from him, body angled so you can rest your elbow against the door. He takes a moment to admire your profile, the soft line of your neck, the way the material of your skirt pulls against your thighs. Then, he clears his throat.

"Seat belt."

You look over at him, teasing smile returning to your painted lips as you look at him from beneath your lashes. For a moment, he thinks you're going to talk back, to argue, to tell him you can do whatever you want, but instead, you wordlessly buckle yourself in, eyes never leaving his. He nods, swallowing thickly as he returns his attention ahead.

Your penthouse isn't far from the club you'd been at, and it normally doesn't take long for him to make it back there after your nights out on the town, but he remembers too late that you left earlier than usual this evening and hits a little more traffic than he'd like. You've been quiet the entire drive, simply staring out the window, shifting in your seat every now and then. He can't be sure, but he feels like you might be doing it on purpose, to draw his attention to the fact that your skirt has ridden up so high on your delectable thighs that he can see a flash of the white lace panties beneath them. Jake fights the urge to groan, instead keeping his attention on the road a head of him.

He's relieved when he spots the familiar building that houses your penthouse, internally breathing a sigh of relief as he smoothly halts at the entrance. The doorman rushes out to open the door for you, but you wave him off, instead turning back toward Jake, that gleam still in your eyes.

"Would you mind walking me upstairs, Mr. Lockley?" you ask, your voice soft and far more innocent than the look in your eyes. "I'm not used to being up there all alone."

Jake pauses, considering the repercussions. If he says no, will you complain about him to your father? He could lose his job. But if he says yes, and you do what he thinks you're going to do, he'll lose it anyway, won't he? (that, or your father will kill him)

So either way he's screwed, it seems. Least he can do is have a little fun first.

Jake nods, wetting his lips again as he steers the car toward the garage beside your building. He parks in the spot marked for the penthouse (a spot that's conveniently located right beside the elevator), and helps you out of the vehicle. The edge of your skirt has risen up so high, he can see the curve of your ass cheeks peeking from beneath it as you walk ahead of him to the elevator. He stifles another groan, trying his best to remain professional just in case he's misreading this situation.

The ride up in the elevator is excruciating. All he can think about is pinning you up against the side and shoving his face between your legs. He wonders how you taste (he imagines something rich and sweet, like champagne), how you'd sound, how you'd look just as you're about to come.

The elevator chimes, startling him from his thoughts, the doors opening into the foyer of the penthouse. It's lavish, elegant, but also somehow understated. Perhaps a little like you, he thinks.

Inside he breaths a sigh of relief, thinking his task is done, that he's free to return to his car and go home for the evening...but as you step off onto the white marble floor, you turn slightly, waving him inside.

"Come in, have a drink with me."

Jake hesitates, and you must see it because you chuckle and say, "It's the least I can do for making you walk me all the way up here."

He smiles, nodding his thanks as he makes a waving gesture with his hands. "Please, Miss, there's no need. I'm just doing my job."

Disappointment clouds your eyes at his words and you look away with a quiet sigh, one he only catches because he's watching you so closely. Suddenly you look so....lonely. Standing there in this grand penthouse, all alone. He shouldn't feel bad for you, you have everything you could ever want, everything he doesn't, but...he can't seem to help himself.

Knowing he'll likely end up regretting it, he steps inside, his shoes squeaking slightly on the floor. Your head swivels back toward him at the sound, a light in your eyes when she realizes you've decided to stay. The sight makes something warm unfurl in his chest.

Half an hour later, you're both sitting in your living room (on the most uncomfortable couch he's ever had the misfortune of sitting on), glasses in hand and a bottle of Macallan whisky between you. Your ridiculous heels lay discarded on the floor, delectable legs curled up beneath you as you both laugh about something one of you had said.

Jake's always prided himself on being able to hold his alcohol but, honestly? He's pretty certain that, if he's not drunk now, he is well on his way. He can't stop staring at you, at the way your smile lights up your whole face, the way your eyes sparkle when you say something cheeky...the way your skirt is still riding up your thighs.

He takes another sip from his glass (which he should really stop doing if he's planning on driving himself home later), the liquid burning down his throat. Jake licks his lips, eyes glued to your thighs, wondering idly how soft your skin is, how you'd react if he pushed his calloused hand beneath the hem of your skirt, his fingers dancing along the edge of your panties--

"Jake?"

His eyes shoot back to yours, heat flaring in his cheeks at being caught. You're close (when had you gotten so close?), so close he can smell you, can feel the heat of you through your clothes.

He hums in response, not trusting that his mouth is capable of coherent speech at the moment. You smile, putting your arm against the back of the couch, the length of your body pressed along the side of his as you lean in to whisper in his ear.

"I want you."

Jake groans softly at your words, unable to contain himself any longer. He feels you smile against the side of his neck, your lips dragging along the skin there. You press a feather-light kiss just below the hinge of his jaw and he leans back a little, giving you more space. You hum, nipping at another spot and soothing it with your tongue. Your fingers find their way into his hair, plunging into his soft curls, and gently angling his head where you want it.

You kiss him and he groans again, eyes fluttering shut as your lips move tentatively against his. His hand cups your cheek and you sigh, the action making something tighten in his chest. Soon you're straddling his lap, skirt ridden up so far you might as well not be wearing it (which would be just fine with Jake). His hands are everywhere--cupping your face, slipping beneath your top, clutching your ass, pushing up your thighs toward the hem of your skirt--

You break the kiss with a gasp as his fingertips skim over the delicate lace covering your pussy, your thighs quaking on either side of him.

"Please," you whine breathlessly, mouth falling open as you chase his touch.

Obligingly, Jake slips a finger inside, groaning softly at how warm and wet you are. He swirls his fingertip around your clit, gently teasing it, and dragging the most delicious sounds from between your lips. He watches transfixed as you writhe in his lap, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth parted. You moan as he slips his fingers further south, briefly teasing your entrance before dipping inside. Your fingers clench in his shirt as you move against his hand, his name spilling from your mouth like a prayer.

"That's it, bebita," he breathes, his chest heaving a little as he watches you. "Take what you need."

You moan again as he circles your clit, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, breath fanning against his lips. You whine his name again and he groans, the sound going straight to his cock. When you come, he swears it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen, your breath hitching, mouth slack, eyes closed in ecstasy, body shaking as your orgasm rocks through you.

Jake brings his fingers to his lips as you try to catch your breath, moaning as the rich taste of you explodes on his tongue. He wants more, wants to devour you, to make you come over and over and over again on his tongue until he's swallowed every last ounce of your essence.

He wonders if you'd let him.

You kiss him then, slow and sensual, humming a little as you lick into his mouth. He groans when your hand slips inside his trousers, taking him in your hand.

"Need you, Jake," you pant, lightly rubbing your thumb over his tip.

He throws his head back against the edge of the couch, cursing under his breath in Spanish. He hears you chuckle, your delicate hands working him from his pants.

He clutches at your hips as you sink down onto him, that silly little skirt bunched up around your waist. His fingers dig into your soft flesh as you ride him, your hands fisting in his thick hair as you pull his mouth back to yours. You're squeezing him, your cunt fluttering around his length as he fucks up into you, searching for the spot he knows will fling you over the edge. You break the kiss with a gasped moan when he finds it, whimpering and whining into his ear as he hits it again and again ("Oh fu--right there, Jake. Yeah, just like that. Oh God. Oh fuck---"). You gush around him when you come, soaking and squeezing his cock. He follows you over the edge, spilling himself inside you with a broken groan.

He ends up staying the night (and if he makes you come a few more times before the sun rises, well, who's to say?).

**apologies for any mistakes, this was absolutely not proofread lol**

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

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PART 2

[writing-intheundercroft]

You're Gonna Go Far - O. Gaunt

AO3 Link

Word Count: 10,956

Rating: E (The boys are in a fraternity, Smut, Oral Sex (F receiving), Unprotected Sex, NSFW, MDNI)

Summary: It's the night before graduation, and Ominis Gaunt is moving to New York City next week. There isn't much time left to say all the things that have gone unsaid over the past seven years.

A/N: I'm in the loveliest Ominis server on Discord, and this is dedicated to @grandeoatmilklatte, who inspired frat president Ominis. I hope you enjoy!

You walk up the steps of the splintered porch, taking great care to not slip on the beer a freshman has dropped on the stoop.  Graduation ceremonies start in the morning and the spring chill has broken, giving way to a gorgeous May evening.  It’s just warm enough that you’ve got the slightest glisten on your collarbone from your fast pace walk, abandoning the bar scene for your best mates’ last frat party ever.  

“Very nice,” a voice purrs behind you. “You do always look pretty when you polish up.”

You roll your eyes, swatting at a sweaty Lucan Brattleby as he dodges your aim. “Buzz off, Luc.  Have you seen Sebastian and Ominis?”

“Sebastian is somewhere getting his face sucked off by Cressida,” Lucan chuckles, brushing back his curly mop. “And I haven’t seen Ominis all night, except when he yelled at me for trying to get into his room.”

You raise an eyebrow, resting a hand on your hip as you bounce your heel against the porch.  You swallow away the lump in your throat, hoping Ominis isn’t off getting slobbered on by a girl. Whatever liquid courage you’ve consumed this evening is already wearing thin, and the sight of Ominis with a stranger might shatter you.  

“And why were you trying to get into his room?” You ask, trying to pry.

Lucan shrugs. “Well, the president’s room gets passed down to the next president,” he jerks his thumb back to himself proudly. “And I wanted to measure for my furniture next semester.  I think I could fit a wet bar in there.”

You try to stifle your snort, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “I’m going in to find him,” you announce, stepping through the threshold.  With the door open, the music bleeds out onto the porch.  

It’s so loud, you can feel the bass from the music thumping in your stomach.  Garreth is in the kitchen, peddling some of his tonics; Amit and Andrew are in the living room, scolding some younger students for touching the large telescope situated by the windows. You spot Sebastian leaning against the stair railing, a cup of beer in his hand. You have to wade through a sea of bodies just to reach him.

”It’s about time you showed up,” Sebastian teases, swirling his beer. Your freckled friend has his shirt unbuttoned quite low, and you notice several young ladies shooting jealous glances your way. It's laughable that they'd be envious - Sebastian has never been anything more than a pesky brother to you, growing even closer in the years since Anne's passing.

”I thought you would be getting your face sucked off by Cressida,” you mock Lucan’s words, and Sebastian groans.

“I’ve been trying to escape her all night,” he tilts his head, appraising your outfit. Sebastian can be a touch overprotective when you go out on the town, and you wouldn’t put it past him to say something about how cold you must be in your slip dress.  “Bar night with the girls go well?”

”Imelda had to take Poppy home before she puked in another planter. Think she has a few of Garreth’s brews before we even hit the town.” you laugh as you talk about your roommates, crossing your arms over your chest.  “And if you’re going to criticize my clothes—“

“I think you look beautiful,” Sebastian offers. “Ominis is going to think so too.”

You blush. “Ominis doesn’t care for clothes.”

”Ominis cares for you ,” Sebastian points out, lifting the cup to his lips. “Have you seen him yet?”

You shake your head. “I was going to check his room, but didn’t want to stop him if he was…er, busy .” you wave your hands erratically, hoping Sebastian would get the gist of your implication.

Sebastian snorts, grinning over the edge of the plastic cup. “Definitely not.  Tell you what, head up to his room—I’ll send him up when I see him.”

You swat at him, but head up the stairs to the third floor anyways.  Passing by throngs of students enjoying the last weekend of term, you push your way to the door neatly labeled O. Gaunt, President.

The door seems to know you’re one of Ominis’s welcomed guests, so it unlocks itself for you. Ominis has always been nifty at protective spells, his door clearly charmed to only let in select visitors.  And much to your relief, the room is empty.  

You walk around the room, the door left ajar behind you. Ominis is a simple man, not keeping much more in his room other than a bed, desk, and the textbooks stacked neatly on his dresser.  The suit he’s been planning to wear to graduation is draped across the back of his armchair, but that’s not what catches your eye. What calls your attention the most are the two graduation gowns hanging in the closet–from afar they look identical, but you know better than anyone the implication behind both.

“I thought you were out for girls night.” 

“I couldn’t miss your last party ever, could I?”

You hear Ominis’s familiar breezy laugh. “I’d much rather be at a bar myself right now. It’s an absolute madhouse downstairs. I've been trying to keep it civilized.”

You don’t turn around; instead, you remain standing in Ominis’s closet, dragging a finger over the thick robe, trimmed with black and green velvet.  Ominis had originally planned to wear the same plain polyester school-issued robe as Sebastian, but a large box arrived on the front porch of the house earlier in the week. You, Sebastian, and Garreth lingered in the living room as Ominis carefully unwrapped the parchment paper, revealing a box with a gilded Gladrags logo.  Inside was the luxurious robe, accompanied by a satin stole.  It had the Gaunt family crest embroidered on the chest, the family motto dancing around his neck in metallic silver thread. 

Ex auro purissimo sanguinis. The purest of blood.

It was the first he’d heard from his family in almost six months–the note from Marvolo had stated if Ominis was going to represent the family in an official capacity, he needed to dress the part. Ominis immediately set the offending notecard on fire, the fancy box quickly thrown out their window and into the dumpster below. It was only after you’d gotten back to your flat that Sebastian texted; the box was empty in the trash can, but both the fancy robe and stole were hanging in Ominis’s closet.

“Which one will you wear?” You ask, turning your gaze over your shoulder.  

Ominis smiles, pushing a stray strand of blonde hair from his forehead.  Your devastatingly handsome best friend leans against the doorway, a red cup resting in his hand. Ominis has never been one to dress down–his version of a party outfit is a pair of neat, chino pants, an ironed button down layered over a tee shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters. He fiddles with the handle of his wand in the other, the tip glowing a soft hazy red as he made sense of your placement in the bedroom.

“I think you know,” Ominis muses, swiftly moving from the doorway to his bed. “Wasn’t nearly as difficult of a decision to make as I thought.  The boys are my family now. Have been for a while.”

He sits atop the rickety full-sized bed, the springs of his mattress creaking beneath his weight.  You nearly laugh; Ominis is so tall, he looks comical perched on the misshapen bedframe. He’s never been good at transfiguration, but he’s too stubborn to let anyone else help him with his furniture.  Despite the odd furnishings, the rest of Ominis’s bedroom is neat and tidy.  His striped sheets are pristine, the duvet folded at the edge of the bed. It’s a far cry from Sebastian’s room, which is littered with papers and broken quills, or the room that Andrew and Garreth share at the end of the hall.  The two have nearly come to blows several times in the last semester over who would take the trash out.

“You still haven’t packed,” you hum, moving away from the closet and back over to his desk.  He hasn’t returned his books to the library yet, his magical ethics and muggle studies textbooks are still cracked open from finals. 

“I’ll get around to it,” Ominis shrugs.

“Lucan’s been bothering me about you packing,” you perch yourself on his desk chair. “Something about him wanting to get in and measure, so he can plan his furniture layout.  Said he wants to put a bar in the room.”

Ominis rolls his milky blue eyes, lifting the red cup to his lips. “Lucan isn’t president yet,” he reminds you. “I’m not sure when I’ll fully move out of the house. And he cannot build a wet bar in the bedroom, that’s unsanitary.”

You snort, spinning around slowly in the chair. “It’s nearly two o’clock. You’ll have bags under those pretty eyes of yours if you don’t get to bed soon.  Should I kick everyone out?”

Ominis laughs, setting the cup on the floor as he leans back in bed. “Let them have their fun,” he says fondly. “Sebastian needs one last party before he starts his rotations at St. Mungo’s.  Besides, I bet Garreth is making a fortune off his potions tonight.  Might as well clear out his entire stock on graduation parties. ”

You smile faintly as the music from downstairs bleeds up into the bedroom.  As far as fraternity houses go, there are certainly more posh ones on campus.  Ominis had been a legacy of the richest fraternity at school, one mostly of fellow purebloods and former Slytherins.  They’d spent the whole of first term trying to recruit him, baiting him with lavish dinners, free entrance to the clubs, and all the illicit beverages and substances one might desire.  But that wasn’t Ominis–unknowingly, they drove him even further into the opposite direction.  You can still remember bid day, and the shock on everyone’s faces when Ominis turned down their bid to join a humble off campus house with Sebastian. His family had been furious, specifically Marvolo–you can still remember the shouting match the brothers had gotten into, Marvolo slamming the dorm room shut after tearing Ominis to shreds.

Whilst most of the student body had expected Ominis to fade into obscurity after his controversial choice, quite the opposite happened.  Ominis truly flourished without the influence of his family, instead patching together a group of unexpected brothers. He surprised everyone when he became president his second year of uni, bringing some order to the rowdy gang of brothers with his natural born leadership skills.  What felt like a mishmash of random Hogwarts alumni suddenly became a little family, held together with Ominis as the glue.  

All in all, the shy, skinny Slytherin you once knew has really come into his own. 

“Knut for your thoughts?” Ominis asks, breaking you out of your reverie.

“Nothing,” you shrug, fixing the strap of your dress as you spin around once more. “It’s just weird, that’s all.”

“What’s weird?” Ominis asks softly, playing with his wand.  The tip has stopped glowing; he’s comfortable enough around you to not need his guide.

“That tomorrow, you graduate.” you utter. “And then, you’re gone.”

“Ah,” Ominis bites his bottom lip. “ That .”

It’s a subject the two of you have been avoiding for a while.  Ominis had spent the last few summers interning for the Wizengamot, fully expecting to work for them after graduating with his law degree.  Again, to everyone’s shock, Ominis had announced his intentions to apply for a position in the foreign office, working for MACUSA. You can still recall the doubt on Ominis’s face, brows furrowed as you and Sebastian helped him fill out his application before the deadline.  It had taken nearly an entire night, Sebastian snoring in an armchair while you sent the application off with an owl in the dark sky.

“We don’t even know if I’ll get it,” Ominis had said.

“You’re going to get it,” you assured him.  There was never a doubt in your mind.

Ominis received news of his placement with MACUSA at the end of fall term.  He was offered his first choice, a position in the foreign relations office, his first day of work being June 1st.  The celebration had lasted an entire week, until Garreth finally ran out of fizzing whizzbeer. The night was especially memorable, considering Ominis had also broken up with Nerida in the middle of the party.  He was unphased by both her screams and the beer that had flown in his face, Andrew and Garreth having to drag her out of the house. When asked about it the next morning, he’d merely shrugged it off. They hadn’t been dating longer than a month , Ominis pointed out.  Besides, he would be off to America soon enough.  Best to leave without baggage.

That thought sank in your stomach like a hot ball of lead.

“We really should start packing,” you remind him. “Unless you plan on arriving in New York with just a suitcase.”

“Maybe I’m thinking of not going,” Ominis mumbles. He leans back on the bed, unseeing eyes blinking up at the ceiling as he fumbles with his hand. “I know it looks bad on my part to decline a job this late, but–”

“Excuse me,” You gasp. “No buts, Ominis Gaunt.  You’re going to New York.”

“But what if they need me?” Ominis blurts. “Sebastian will be in London on his own, and you know he hates being alone now that Anne is gone.  And Lucan is still a little shit, he may need more experience before he’s ready to be president.  I worry he’ll bring his little dueling betting ring into the house, and I won’t stand to see the boys gambling their lives away.”

“Ominis,” you warn him. “You’re going.”

“And what about you?” Ominis asks softly. “You still have a year left here, I hate the thought of you being here by yourself.”

You pull yourself closer to the bed, the wheels of his desk chair squeaking on the floor.  “I’m going to be okay, Ominis.” You promise him. “You know, if you’re this anxious about it, we should probably get you a better cell phone.  I know how you feel about those muggle devices, but Sebastian and I really do find them useful. Not that owls aren’t efficient, but a transatlantic journey would take them quite a bit–”

Ominis’s hand is on yours, the sensation knocking the wind of your chest.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmurs. “It’s me I’m worried about.”

You stare at him, thankful he can’t see your gaze.  

Ominis has been your best friend for years now.  You can still remember him yelling at you the first time you left the Undercroft, his ire quickly fading away as soon as Sebastian forced the two of you into close proximity.  You’d shared more in common than you thought–a love for pranks, warm naps in the hallways, and an oddly similar affinity for banoffee pie. It wasn’t long before the three of you had become a package deal, hardly ever seen without the others.  It only made sense the three of you would go off to uni together after Hogwarts, you becoming somewhat of a house mother to Ominis, Sebastian, and the rest of the boys.

With that, you’d also spent the last four years of university watching Ominis date other girls.  There had never been anyone too serious, most of them being old acquaintances from Hogwarts, or pretty girls who’d stumbled into their parties.  They usually only lasted for weeks at a time, Ominis claiming he was far too busy taking care of his own brothers to handle a girlfriend as well. Usually in the end, the ladies would come sobbing at your doorstep, all wondering why they couldn’t get Ominis Gaunt to commit. 

At the same time, you’d had your fair share of fun and trouble at university–bad boyfriends, a few failed classes, all distracting you from your independent study on ancient magic. Enough so, you needed an extra two semesters under your belt to catch up on your dissertation.

“Are you scared?” you ask, voice soft. 

“Maybe,” Ominis admits, and it’s the first time in a very long time you’ve heard him express doubts. “The idea of being alone in New York is scary.  I’ve had you and Sebastian by my side for the last seven years, and I won’t know anyone.”

“You’re going to be great, Om.” you remind him. “You’re going to make a name for yourself in New York.  What would make you think otherwise?”

Ominis is chewing on his lower lip, thumb running over the back of your hand. “Marvolo called the this morning,” he admits, pointing to the little brick of a phone you and Sebastian had bullied him into buying. “It wasn’t good.”

“Oh, Om.” You sigh, pulling yourself closer. From this distance, you can smell the cool musk of his cologne, one of the little luxuries he maintains for himself. “What happened?”

Ominis hangs his head low, shaking out his dirty blond hair.  He normally has it gelled back, tidily done, but it seems a bit messy and disheveled. Out of character for your best mate.

“Said I was an embarrassment to the family,” Ominis mumbles. “That I should’ve taken the opportunity to work at Mulciber’s firm, and that Mother and Father are astounded I’d work for the government, let alone the Americans .” he says dramatically. 

“Your brother is an arse as usual,” you say defiantly. “And he has no idea how hard you’ve worked for this. Ominis, you’re the greatest treasure your family has ever lost, and I look forward to watching you prove them wrong.”

Ominis offers a small smile. “See?  What am I going to do without you as a voice of reason?”

Affection is nothing new for you.  The minute Sebastian and Ominis began bringing you around their brothers, it was made blatantly obvious that you were off limits.  Sebastian had threatened everyone, reminding them that you were practically their sister, and anyone who tried to make a pass at you would be dealt with swiftly. The first time one of the older boys had tried to kiss you, Ominis challenged him to a duel on the spot.  Within seconds, Ominis’s opponent was arse down on the floor, your best friend wrapping an arm around your shoulder to see if you were okay.

Nights spent in the library, sitting shoulder to shoulder as you studied.  Movie nights at the house, your legs tangled on the couch while Sebastian complained about sitting on the floor.  The two of you dancing around the kitchen, cooking up dinner while Lucan and Garreth played exploding snap at the table.  You can feel the thick lump forming in your throat as you try to imagine the next year without him.

“Remember what I said,” you swallow away your sadness. “If you want to go far–”

“You’ve got to go far.” Ominis repeats. “I know, you’re the one who told me to apply.”

You place your hand on his cheek, which is still rosy from the beer he’d been drinking. “You’re going to go to New York, Ominis.  And if you want to come home, we’ll be here.  Sebastian and me, we’ll be here.”

Ominis holds your hand to his cheek, blinking up at you through his thick lashes.  Something about the moment is far too intimate–you know you should leave, go back to the party downstairs.  There’s music still playing in the distance, your friends are still dancing, yet you’re here, alone with Ominis in his room.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ominis asks.

“Ask away,” you whisper.

You can see the way he moves his hand, dropping his wand onto the nightstand next to his bed.  His right hand is still on top of yours, keeping it glued to his warm cheek.  The other hand hooks behind your knee, fingers dancing over the soft skin.  He’s taller than you, and his knees slot between yours, legs knocking into each other.

“Have you ever–” he clears his throat, eyes fluttering as he tries to verbalize his thoughts. “Have you ever thought about us?”

“What about us?” You ask dumbly. 

To your despair, Ominis pulls away. He hastily tugs his hands from your body, pushing the desk chair to put distance between the two of you.  It’s faster than you could’ve imagined; your brain is still processing his question while he’s already got his wand in hand, hastily making a way towards the door.

“Ominis, stop!” You demand.

“It’s dumb,” He ignores your words, wand lit red as he stomps across the room. “It was just a thought–”

“Ominis,” you repeat, standing up.  

“We should go back out to the party–”

“I have,” you choke out.  “I have thought about us.”

Ominis has his head pressed against the cheap pine door.  One hand is on the door knob, the other fondling his wand.  You can sense his trepidation as he slowly stows his wand in his back pocket, turning to face you once more.

“You have?” he croaks.

“I have,” you parrot back the words to him. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ominis demands. 

“Because,” you’re shaking now. “Because if I told you, you wouldn’t have applied.  And we’re best friends, Ominis, who knows what we’d be getting ourselves into.” the words tumble out of your mouth. 

The idea of life with Ominis had never crossed your mind–not until Poppy had proposed it earlier in the school year, pointing out how he doted on you.  The first to offer you a drink, always free to walk you home at the end of the night.  If you were going through a breakup, Ominis would drop everything to be at your doorstep, a bottle of wine and takeaway in hand.  He’s sat on your couch listening you rant about horrible dates at least a hundred times now.

He’s perfect for you, Poppy had said.

But he’s my best friend, you’d argued back.  

It was only after that conversation that you’d began to see Ominis differently.  The way his eyelashes fluttered when you brushed hair out of his face, or the way a warm blush would creep on his cheeks whenever your skin touched his.  On more than one occasion you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek whenever his shirt roved above his waist. Worst of all, you couldn’t help the bile that would rise in your throat whenever you saw him chatting with another girl, the acrid taste coating your tongue.

Ominis is perfect, every inch of him being boyfriend material. There’s no mistaking that. Your fear lies in the fact that Ominis is your closest confidant, one of your best friends.  While painful, it almost seems easier to hang in the balance of not getting to love him rather than losing him.

“What would we do if we realized we were no good for each other?” you blurt. “You’re my best friend, Om.  I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”

“Bear what?” Ominis muses.

Oh, it’s cruel the way he looks so handsome.  His lips are curved in somehow both a smile and a grimace, dancing around the inevitable question.  

“Don’t make me say it,” you feel weak already. 

“Please,” Ominis asks, voice teetering on the edge of politeness and desire. “Say it, please.”

“I wouldn’t be able to bear it if we didn’t work out,” you confess. “Because it’s you, Ominis.  I love you.”

You’ve told each other you love one another plenty.  The first was at the end of fifth year, when the three of you were departing for separate summer holidays.  Again, when you graduated and you cried about how much you were going to miss Hogwarts.  Both of you with Sebastian, at Anne’s funeral the summer after freshman year.  Throughout all of university, through texts, phone calls, kisses on the cheek before you leave the bar at the end of the night.  

Hiya, love you.  Love you, get home safe.  You’re annoying, but love you.

This time, it’s different.  It’s no longer a statement, it’s a confession.

“You love me.” Ominis says slowly.

“Ah, fuck.” you swear, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “This is so not how I thought tonight would go.”

“If you love me,” Ominis asks, voice shaky. “Why did you tell me to apply for the MACUSA job?”

“Because it’s what you want,” you whisper. “And you’re going to be so, so good at it, Ominis. It’s a fresh start where no one will care who your family is, and that’s what you need.”

“Even if it means I’m going to live far away?” he asks, cheeks reddening. 

Your fingers curl into your palms, nails pricking skin. “You always talked about getting away from your family.  It sounded like the best option for you–you’d get to do something you truly love, something you’re good at.  You’re going to help people, and you’re going to be more than a Gaunt.  It’s the best thing for you, Ominis.”

“But what if I wanted you?” Ominis asks, voice strained. “What if I wanted to stay?”

“I wouldn’t want that.” You admit. “If you’re going to stay, it has to be for more than me. Not that I think you’d stay for me, specifically–I mean, I’m sure Sebastian would love for you to stay home too, and Garreth would miss you–”

Ominis pauses for a moment, his mouth opening and snapping shut as he thinks.  Part of you is curious at what he might say, the other is so embarrassed you’re ready to chuck yourself out the window of his third floor bedroom.  You might land in the rose bushes, which will undoubtedly hurt, but a broken bone will hurt certainly less than rejection from your best friend.

“Say something, for the love of Merlin–”

He doesn’t.

Instead, Ominis launches himself off the door, closing the distance between you in four quick strides.  The desk chair is practically thrown out of the way, tipping onto its side as Ominis slinks a hand around your waist.  You can feel his breath on your cheek, head tipped against yours as he presses your back against his misshapen desk.

“Ominis!” you shriek, watching him swipe everything off his desk and onto the floor.  His heavy books clatter against the hardwood floor, landing with a loud thud.  He wastes no time lifting you onto his desk, tugging your legs closer to the edge as he slots himself between them.

“Tell me,” Ominis pants, his forehead pressed against yours. “Tell me you’ve thought about this before.”

You groan as his mouth descends upon yours. Your hands are tangled in his thick hair, his fingertips pressing into your waist as he kisses you with a bruising force. 

“I have,” you moan into his mouth. 

Ominis moans in return; it’s a sound you’ve been trying to imagine for the last six months, and it sounds so much better in real life.  Your hands slip under the edge of his well worn t-shirt, feeling the warm skin underneath. Ominis has always been long and lithe, and his toned muscle feels just as good as you’ve thought it would. Feeling your nails scratching his skin, Ominis pulls away to mark kisses up and down your throat.

You surge forward, hips trying to close the little distance between your center and Ominis’s body. You can feel his clothed erection throbbing against your thigh, his head tilted back up to kiss your lips. A large palm settles on your breast, tentatively swiping over a clothed nipple.  At your gasp, Ominis pauses; he leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as you both register the current state of events.

“That was our first kiss,” Ominis groans. “And I acted like a complete boor.”

You snort. “Took you about two minutes before you had your tongue in my mouth and a hand on my chest.  Not one for subtlety, are you?”

Ominis snorts too, leaning his forehead against your shoulder as he rests his hands on the desk behind you. “To be fair, I’ve been thinking about your breasts for the last six years.  Didn’t want to waste any precious time I have left with them.”

It’s funny and romantic, and also heartbreaking.  If you think about Ominis leaving, you may burst into tears.

“Hey,” Ominis whispers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the mood–”

You press your mouth against his; he’s unprepared, so your teeth gnash together.  Ominis quickly adjusts, letting you dominate the kiss.

“Let’s just focus on right now,” you plead. “We can talk about New York after—but not now.”

Ominis pulls away slightly, a small smile growing on his lips.  He’s blinking rapidly, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“What?” you demand, running a hand through your hair.

“Just happy that it’s us, finally.” Ominis admits. “You and me.”

His little smile is everything, you think.  And while you love the sweet expression, you want to see the faces Ominis makes under more amorous circumstances.

“Ominis,” you coo gently, taking his hand and placing it on your chest. He’s fully red in the face, mouth agape as you guide him at palming your breast. He gets the message, taking control as your hands rest on his shoulders.

“I’ve never told you, but I love it when you wear these dresses,” Ominis muses, his free hand trailing up your thigh. “They’re soft, just like you.”

Your breath catches as his hand snakes upwards, squeezing your bottom. The edge of your short dress is rucked up to your waist as Ominis feels the lace, hovering dangerously close to your center. It’s so intimate, a lengthy departure from your normally buttoned up, proper friend who hates kisses on the cheek. Your head tilts back, a moan on the tip of your tongue as the hand once squeezing your behind starts tracing the edge of your thong.

“No fair,” you wheeze, tugging on his shirtsleeves. “If I’m arse out, you’ve got to take some clothes off too.”

Ominis lets out a loud laugh as he removes his hands from you, letting the button down fall to the floor.  Your hands pull at his t-shirt, helping him take it off.  The second the letters fall on the floor, your hands fly up to his chest, roving over the pale planes.  

“You’re vulgar, too.” Ominis chuckles. “One of the many things I admire about you.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, lacing your fingers with his.  Your nose bumps into his chin, helping him make sense of your position.  He tilts his face down, hot breath fanning your cheeks. “Soft and vulgar, two very different words you’re using to describe me.”

“At first it irked me,” Ominis confesses. “When we first met.  But after I got to know you, I realized you’re just loud because you’re having fun. And life didn’t need to be so stuffy.”

“That’s sweet,” you admit. 

“You make everything better,” Ominis says, lips hovering closer towards yours again.  “You always have.”

“I’d say the same about you.” you whisper, lips brushing against his in a chaste kiss. 

Ominis has no more restraint left in him.  He surges forward, hands cradling your cheeks as he kisses you.  You’ve never seen him kiss anyone like this before–Ominis is always polite and tender with his conquests.  This Ominis is pure hunger, making up for lost time. 

You drag your nails up and down his back as he kisses you breathless, only stopping when he pulls away.

“Are you okay with this?” He asks, voice tinged with desperation. “Because there’s no going back.”

There’s no mistaking what this is–you’re crossing the boundary with your best friend, making love while you still have time to do so. If it were any other occasion, you might blame the alcohol going to your head, but no decision has ever felt more sane.

It’s Ominis.

“Yes. I want this,” you utter, and that’s that.

Ominis tugs you away from the desk, fingers slipping under the thin straps of your dress to pull it down.  The slinky fabric pools at your ankles while his hands rove over your body. His fingertips dragging over every curve, while you work the buttons of his pants.  He spins you quickly, pushing you onto his rickety bed as he steps out of his pants.

“I hate your bed,” you groan, bouncing on the springy mattress. “You should’ve let me help you with the spells.”

Ominis lets out a breathy laugh as he hops towards you, kicking away a pant leg. “It’s fine .  I don’t understand why you’re complaining, it’s a bed.”

It’s your turn to snort, chuckling as Ominis feels around the bedspread for you. You tuck your knees up to your chin, darting away from his touch.  You can tell just how frustrated he is, blonde hair falling in his eyes, patting around the bed.

“I want to feel you,” he complains, sinking into the mattress across from you. “I want to take my time with you tonight.”

“Then feel away,” you breathe, letting him catch hold of your ankle. 

Ominis licks his lips, eyes fluttering as he presses a searing hot kiss to your ankle.  The kisses start trailing up your leg, stopping intentionally every few seconds.  His teeth graze the inside of your knee, and the whimper that comes out of your mouth is downright embarrassing.

“Now I want to taste you,” Ominis murmurs, hooking your legs over his shoulder. Before you can respond, his teeth are dragging against the flimsy fabric of your thong. One hand pulls it aside, the other bracing your hip. Without warning, the blond takes a long, deliberate lick. With your taste on his tongue, Ominis loses his self control and tears away the scrap of fabric, tugging it off your body and tossing it.

“Ominis!” You shriek, head tilting back to his pillows.

You can tell he’s smiling from the way his cheeks lift, eyes squeezing shut as he presses a kiss to your clit.  His pace is maddening, lazily lapping as he pins your hips down.  Ominis shakes his head, his tongue finally circling against your clit again once you’ve whined enough.

“You taste so good,” he groans. 

“Just like you’ve imagined?” You utter between the sharp gasps he’s eliciting from you.

Ominis doesn’t respond, instead sucking hard on your clit to express his answer.  He’s clearly turned on by your gasps and the sound of your wet cunt, the auditory stimulation driving him to grind his hips against the squeaking mattress.  At this rate, his fingertips may leave bruises in the crease of your thighs. Never did you ever imagine Ominis Gaunt’s head between your legs, but now you really can’t imagine going the rest of your life without his mouth on you.

“Ominis, please,” you strain, reaching out to grasp his hair.  The sharp tug has him growling against your skin, still relentless in his slow, thoughtful method. His tongue darts into your cunt at an excruciating tempo.

“I told you,” he hums, sinking teeth in your thigh as he gives you a momentary reprieve. “I’m going to take my time with you. And if that means I’m here, all night–then so be it.”

In your daze, you hardly notice the fact that he’s now slipped his fingers inside of you, slowly pumping them as he kisses your clit again. With every stroke you feel the band tightening in your stomach, the overwhelming urge to snap coming any moment.  You paw at his head, anything to express how close you are, but he relents with his pace. When his fingers curl inside of you, you slam your head back against the pillows again, a ragged cry tumbling off your lips as you come.

Ominis pulls away, your slick glistening his chin as he gives you a smug smile.  Your heart is hammering in your chest at the sight of him, cheeks red and panting from giving you the most glorious head you’ve ever received to date.

“Did I do well?” He asks, almost a bit shy.

You try to get up, but your quivering legs fail you. “You’ve rendered me boneless,” you laugh, pressing a hand against your chest.

Ominis pulls himself up over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You can still taste yourself on his mouth, flooding your head with filthy ideas. 

“Your turn,” You murmur, mustering the strength to pull yourself up. You push Ominis over, and he falls against the bed.  Somehow, your bodies know just how to move around each other–there is no awkward fumbling.  When you’ve known someone for years, spent half your school years cuddled up together in naps, you just know how to maneuver around one another. 

Ominis sits against the headboard, the pillows propped behind his back.  When he feels your hands touch the waistband of his boxers, he instinctively lifts his hips, letting you drag them down his legs.  His aching length springs free, slapping against his stomach as you crawl towards his lap.

“How does this feel?” You ask, adjusting your legs to straddle him.  You know he can feel how wet you are, dripping against his cock.  While your hands rest against his shoulders, Ominis’s arms wrap against your waist, all but pulling you down to grind against him. Waiting for his answer, your eyes scan every inch of his face to commit each beauty mark to memory.

Ominis presses a quick kiss to your nose, eyelashes fluttering in the way you love. “You feel so warm.” He groans, his cock twitching against you. The feeling of him against you sparks a familiar ache between your legs.  His jaw hardens when you slip your hand between your bodies, gripping him to guide his blunt head to your center.

“I love you,” Ominis chokes out as you sink onto his length.  His hands fly from your waist, now roving all over your body.  He’s consuming you, touching every single surface he can manage.  You both gasp as you bottom out, his head tipping back against the headboard with a thud.

“So good for me,” Ominis garbles out in broken syllables. “You’re...you feel so...”

You surge forward, lips pressed against his.  His kisses melt against your mouth as he tries to rock upwards into you. 

“We could’ve been doing this for ages,” Ominis complains, his nimble fingers tangling in your hair.

“Instead we’ve been just friends,” you chuckle, rolling your hips. Your hands are gripping the headboard behind him, forehead pressed against his as you grind against each other. 

“Idiots,” Ominis mutters, catching your lower lip with his teeth. “We’re idiots.”

You shift your feet underneath you, bouncing up and down on his length.  Ominis’s breath hitches against your breasts, his hands shifting down to your waist.  The feeling of his thumbs roving over your hip bones is enough to drive you harder, and you realize he’s admiring every single dimple, every curve.  He could go faster, fuck up into you if he really wanted to, but Ominis stays true to his word.  He’s taking his time to savor you, to commit your body to memory while he has you in his arms.

“Enjoying yourself?” You ask breathlessly, as Ominis’s hand trails up and down your spine for the umpteenth time.

He grins, baring his teeth as he surges forward, pushing you off and onto your back on the bed.  You yelp as he slithers over you, hovering just inches from your face as he presses back into your warmth. 

“Immensely,” Ominis whispers, kissing you as he starts rocking into you.  Without thought, you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in as tightly as you can. When he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours, you flatten your hands against his cheeks. You fit against each other like puzzle pieces; it’s silly to have been so worried, you realize.  Slotted against each other, chasing one another to your mutual climax, you know only Ominis could’ve ever made sense.

“I love you,” you blurt as Ominis digs his face into your neck.

“I love you too,” Ominis mumbles into your neck. “I think I always have.”

“You have?” You squeak, thoughts punctuated by a moan as he snaps his hips at just the right angle.

“It’s you,” Ominis admits. “Of course I love you. I– oh shit –I’ve always had feelings for you,” he pants. “God, at least since we were sixteen.”

Ominis’s confessions, punctuated by an elusive curse word, melt your heart.  You shift your hips upwards, meeting him with every thrust.  The wet slapping of his skin against yours, the slamming of the headboard, coupled with Ominis’s babbling and your breathy moans echo off the walls. You hadn’t bothered with a silencing spell, not knowing that this is where the night would take you. It’s likely everyone in the house knows what’s going on between the two of you, and that almost turns you on more. After all these years, Ominis is yours, claimed by your loud coupling.

“I’ve dreamt of touching you here for years,” Ominis confesses between open mouth kisses. “Always thinking about how soft you must feel here,” his lips close around your nipple, tongue flicking against the surface.  It draws a shriek out of you, which has him grinning. “Just as I thought.”

Just the confirmation that Ominis has thought about you naked in bed just like you have stokes the fire within you, threatening to burst.  He feels too good inside of you; while you’d take the sweet torture of being edged all night just to keep him close, your body is teetering close to the edge.

“Come for me,” Ominis murmurs in your ear. “I want to feel you come undone.”

“I can’t,” you utter. “I don’t–I don’t want this to be over,” you choke out, clutching his shoulders.

The sex, this night, this season of your life, together.  You’re not quite sure which one your sex addled brain is referring to.

Ominis snakes up a large hand, cradling your cheek with his palm.  His thumb brushes over your swollen lips as little gasps escape your lips.

“We have tonight, all night.” Ominis whispers, each syllable met with a roll of his hips. “You don’t think it’ll be just once, do you?”

“Ominis,” you garble out, his thumb dipping into your warm mouth.  You’re not sure if you’re scolding his vulgar language, or warning him of the impending release.

“Come with me,” Ominis pleads.  

An urge to finish what you’ve started together, or perhaps a plea to join him across the sea.  Either way, the three words have you coming, Ominis choking out a moan as his hips stutter against yours. He shudders as he comes inside of you, not stopping his thrusts until he’s trembling, falling at your side. 

The two of you are silent for what feels like ages, just the ticking of his bedside clock and the soft hum of music from the party downstairs filling the background. As you stare at the ceiling, you feel his warm hand entangling his fingers with yours, and you’re both quiet for another few minutes as you collect your thoughts.

“I meant what I said,” Ominis breaks the silence.

“Which one?” you ask, tilting your head to look at him.  He’s still flat on his back, his free hand resting on his chest as his head tilts towards the sound of your voice.  His gorgeous blue eyes crease at the corners as he smiles.

“All of it,” Ominis muses. “That I love you, that I’ve always loved you.  That I thought you didn’t love me, because you were encouraging me to go, to take the MACUSA job.  But turns out, it’s just because you know me better than anyone. You know what I need to do.”

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Ominis turns to you, his hands tracing up and down your naked torso. “I never thought we’d get to do this,” he confesses. “And even if it took us until the last night of school, I’m glad we did.”

You press a fervent kiss to his lips, melting against him.  You only pull away when he laughs, blond hair shaking as he falls back against the bed.

“We are actual idiots,” Ominis says sheepishly. “Our very first time should’ve been more romantic.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “There’s something incredibly romantic about a last chance confession.”

“I wish I’d told you sooner,” Ominis says, a pained expression painted on his face. “We could’ve had so much more time–”

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him.  He quirks his brow, questioning your actions.

“We have the rest of tonight,” you remind him, rolling onto your stomach.  You trace your hand against his cheek, your fingers dancing against his lips. He opens his mouth, indulgently sucking on your fingers as they dip inside. “Besides, I think I have to reciprocate the mind blowing head.” you joke, your now wet hand trailing back down to his length.

Ominis is hard again in seconds.

The music ended hours ago, and the house is calm. You wouldn’t know if anything was going on outside of Ominis’s door anyways; after your second round, Ominis had the good sense to cast a silencing charm on the room. 

Ominis slips out of you after fucking you on your side, his slow thrusts driving you to the brink of insanity.  Both of you are thoroughly spent; he knows that, reaching for his wand to summon a cloth.  He's attentive and gentle as he cleans you, murmuring praise of how well you've taken him and how incredible you feel. Once the two of you are semi-decent, he gathers a fresh tee shirt for you to slip over your head.  It’s well worn, letters stitched into the chest, and it smells like his cologne. You hold the collar to your nose; it’s very likely this shirt will be coming home with you.

Ominis tucks you into his arms as he pulls the duvet over your bodies, his warm breath tickling your ears as his breathing slows.

“I’m not sure how you’re going to walk across the graduation stage,” you joke, stifling a yawn.

“Will probably need Andrew to throw me across the stage at this point,” Ominis says.  His voice sounds thick with sleep, and you know he yearns to shut his eyes.  You’ve known him for so long, watched him nap in the hallways enough to recognize the tell-tale signs of Ominis Gaunt’s sleeping habits.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?” You whisper, hoping to catch him while he’s still awake. “You’re gonna go far, do amazing things. I’m so proud of you, and I love you.”

“I know,” Ominis lets out a sleepy sigh, heavy eyelids drooping.  “I love you too.”

Before long, Ominis is softly snoring in your ear.  Blinking your bleary eyes, you can see the dark sky turning lighter and lighter through the curtains.  It’s graduation day; in a few hours, Ominis will walk across the stage and move on to the next phase of his life.

Merlin, you hope to be part of the next chapter.

You jolt awake when you hear the door knob to Ominis’s room jiggling. The blond is still fast asleep, a smile on his face as he dreams.

“Ominis, wake up,” you groan. “It’s morning.”

“It was morning when we fell asleep,” he swats away at you, digging his face into the pillows.

“Well, it’s graduation morning.” You warn him. “We have to get ready–I have to go home, I have to change and shower.  You have to shower.”

“Shower here,” Ominis complains, tugging you back against his warm chest. “And you can shower with me.”

“I can’t go to your graduation wearing a bloody mini dress,” you scold him, rolling out of bed.  You tug open his dresser, pulling out a well worn sweater and some sweatpants. “There’s someone at the door too.”

“It’s me,” a muffled voice yells. “Wakey wakey, lovebirds!” 

Ominis flips back over in bed as you tug the sweater over your head, swinging the door open.  You’d recognize the Scottish lilt anywhere–it’s Sebastian, grinning broadly with a garment bag in hand.

“What is that?” You gape.

Sebastian pushes his way into the room, hanging the black bag between Ominis’s graduation robes. “Had a feeling you wouldn’t be going home last night,” he winks, unzipping the bag. “So I asked Imelda to pull together some options for you.  Picked them up this morning; there’s some bagels and coffee downstairs too.”

You’re embarrassed but thankful for your friends–Imelda has packed some tasteful day dresses, all appropriate for the event in mind.

Sebastian drops another bag onto the ground, sinking into the now up-right office chair. “She packed more appropriate heels.  Oh, and a bra and underwear. Thought you might’ve lost yours.”

“Get out,” Ominis groans, tossing a pillow at Sebastian.

The freckled bastard lets out a laugh, his whole body shaking as he dodges Ominis’s throw. “Best get in the shower, Mr. President.  Can’t have you walking across the stage to get your diploma with sex hair.” Sebastian waggles his eyebrows, and even though Ominis can’t see, he knows the expression on Sebastian’s face.

You hear your name from the doorframe, and both you and Sebastian turn to see who it is.  Lucan and Garreth are standing with bagels, idly observing the scene before them.

“Amit owes me ten galleons,” Garreth says, his mouth still full of his poppy seed bagel. “He said you’d never admit how you feel to Ominis–”

“That’s not what I said!” You hear Amit’s voice from down the hallway. “Garreth, don’t twist my words.”

Lucan pushes his way into the room, holding his bagel between his teeth. “Can I get in to measure now?” he asks, pulling his wand from his pocket. “I do think I could fit a nice little bar in the corner here–”

“Everyone out!” Ominis roars, standing up in just his boxer shorts. “Everyone who isn’t my girlfriend can fuck off.”

Instead of scattering, everyone freezes in place. 

“Girlfriend?” You squeak out.

Ominis’s furrowed brow softens, his cheeks heating up as he scratches the back of his neck.

“I assumed,” he said sheepishly. “When we said we loved each other.”

“Alright, nothing to see here folks.  Everyone go back to your knitting.” Sebastian says hastily, pulling Lucan into a headlock to drag him out of the room.  He pushes Garreth in the chest, and you hear several pairs of feet scrambling in the hallway–no doubt Amit, Andrew, and the others have congregated outside of Ominis’s door to eavesdrop.

Sebastian shoots you both a knowing look as he shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone with Ominis once more.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” Ominis croaks.  “I understand.  I’m leaving in a few days, it makes sense.”

You tiptoe over to him, placing a hand on his chest.  You can feel his heart hammering beneath you, one of his hands resting atop yours to keep it in place.

“What would being your girlfriend entail?” You ask slowly, nails dragging across his skin.

Ominis offers you a small smile. “Nothing has to change, not really.  Just that I get to tell you that I love you out loud.”

“And perhaps there will be space for me in New York.” You say slowly, chewing on your lower lip.

Ominis’s face lights up, tugging you in with a firm arm around your waist. “There will most definitely be space for you in New York,” he announces. “It’s only fitting that I make room for you, considering you’re the person who convinced me to go.”

“Your girlfriend,” you enunciate. 

“My girlfriend,” Ominis repeats back to you. It isn’t long before he’s kissing you, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth. You have to pull yourself back, eyeing the clock on Ominis’s desk.

“We have to shower,” you remind him, hands pressed against his chest. “Otherwise, I’ll be late to my boyfriend’s graduation ceremony.”

Ominis grins, pressing a quick kiss against your cheek.  He maneuvers over to his dresser, pulling out two clean towels.  Wand in hand, he slings the towels over his shoulder, his other hand outstretched to grab yours.

You fold your palm into his, following him out the door without a word.

The last week almost seems like a blur to you.  

That Sunday, you watched Ominis graduate university with honors, several stoles draped across his shoulders.  One from the honors college, another for his outstanding leadership.  The third looks a bit hodge-podge, but it’s the most important to him–a stole crafted by Sebastian and the others, crudely decorated in a way only twenty-something boys would do.  

The satin stole with the Gaunt family motto is promptly burned in the celebratory bonfire Lucan sets that night, all of you sitting around the fire pit with beers in hand.

Every day since then has been bliss.  You’ve only gone home once, packing a bag with a week’s worth of clothes while Imelda gives you smug looks. You’ve effectively moved into Ominis’s bedroom for one last week together.  It’s for practical reasons, you tell the others.  By day, you’re helping Ominis pack his belongings and bring whatever items he needs to donate to the university charity shop.  You even help him pack a cardboard box with any Gaunt family memorabilia, slapping a label to ship the useless trinkets back to Marvolo.  Ominis doesn’t need to rely on his family name anymore, at least not where he’s going.

The others come and go, but soon the new graduates start to move.  Amit and Andrew are the first to leave, off to start their ministry jobs.  Garreth follows shortly after, moving to a cottage in Cornwall to start his bulk potions business.  Come Friday, it’s just you, Ominis, and Sebastian left as the rest of the underclassmen have left for their summer holidays.

You enjoy one last night cooking dinner with your two best boys, tears pricking the corners of your eyes if you think too hard about how this might be the last time the three of you are in a room together for a while.  After dessert, Sebastian leaves the house to visit friends; more likely, he’s giving the two of you the house alone for your final night together.

You’d expect last night together to be frenetic, but Ominis’s love making remains slow and deliberate.  Ominis meant it when he said he wanted to remember every bit of you, his hands exploring your body as he makes you come several times in the night. You cry out the last time, exhausted but pawing at him for more.  

More, more, more. More time, most of all. 

Both of you cry a little, murmuring promises to each other before falling asleep.

When you wake, the air is melancholy.  The two of you move in silence, Ominis showering and packing the remnants of his suitcase. You put your dirty clothes from the week in your bag as well, and the two of you say goodbye to his little bedroom for the last time.  Ominis swallows thickly as you both get into the car, Sebastian choosing the passenger seat so the two of you can sit together in the back.

The airport isn’t too busy, which affords you time for a long farewell.  Ominis’s wand is safely concealed in a cane, and Sebastian slips a pair of sunglasses over his eyes so he fits in better with the muggles.  

“You have a new phone now,” Sebastian reminds him. “So don’t give me any excuses for not calling or texting.”

“I will,” Ominis promises. “Thank you, Sebastian.  I–” his voice cracks, and his eyes flutter as he swallows. “I’m glad I met you when I was eleven.” It's a simple sentence, but the words impart just how much Ominis loves Sebastian.

Sebastian whimpers, pulling his best friend, his brother into a hug.  You have to turn away, dabbing at your eyes as the two men say farewell after living together for over a decade.

“Alright, sod off,” Sebastian blurts, wiping at his nose. “Your turn to say goodbye, I can’t do this anymore.”

Ominis lets out a watery laugh as Sebastian meanders away, giving the two of you some time alone.  You don’t want to waste any of the precious seconds you have left with Ominis waffling, so you tug him into a tight embrace, your arms locking around his neck.

“I love you,” Ominis says against your hair. “I love you.”

 You’re kissing him all over his face, leaving tears in your wake. “I love you too,” you murmur. “Remember what I told you.”

“If you want to go far, you’ve got to go far.” Ominis mutters. “I’m doing this for me–for us.”

“Better save a drawer for me,” you whisper. 

“The very best one,” Ominis whispers back. “It’ll be there for you, next year.”

Sebastian nearly has to pry the two of you apart, reminding Ominis that his plane leaves within the hour and he still needs to get through security.  The steps the blond takes towards the line are rigid, his subconscious fighting the physical act of leaving.  But deep down, all of you know it–Ominis is going to do great things, and he’s going to do it without his family breathing down his neck, trying to force him to conform to their ways.

You feel a hand grabbing yours; it’s Sebastian, squeezing you tight as you both watch Ominis move through the line.  Minutes later, he’s waving goodbye, disappearing into the departures terminal.

You and Sebastian stay until Ominis’s blond head is no longer visible over the crowd.  

Finishing your dissertation is eating up all your free time, but you reserve an hour at the end of the day to talk to Ominis over his brand new phone.  The time difference is a bit jarring; sometimes you find yourself staying up well into the twilight hours to listen to Ominis ramble on about his job and the work they’ve done to protect international magical affairs.  He asks you how his brothers are doing, if Lucan has stirred any trouble yet.  You tell him all about how they still invite you to parties every weekend, and Lucan decided against building the wet bar in his room.  You talk about Sebastian’s rotations at St. Mungo’s and how the two of you still try to have dinner at least once a week despite your busy schedules. 

You tell him to save his money, but Ominis isn’t one to skimp out on gifts. He still sends owl post, care packages from his tiny apartment in New York.  After you tell him his fraternity letters are starting to wear thin, he sends you a New York t-shirt that smells like cool musk.  You start wearing it to bed every night; once the smell wears off, Ominis sends a bottle of his cologne as well.

Phone sex isn’t half bad either, you decide.  You come every time Ominis tells you to, gasping when you hear him touch himself on the other end of the line.

One day, Ominis sends you an e-mail about job requisitions at the MACUSA headquarters.  They have their own department of mysteries, Ominis explains. If you’re interested at all.

You apply and wait to hear back. I hope it’s not a conflict of interest that my boyfriend is the newest hot shot solicitor in the office of international affairs.

It isn’t, it turns out.  You’re offered a job interview over the winter holidays if you can make it to New York City in time.  Ominis sends you the ticket in your email, assuring you that he’ll pick you up from the airport.  He does exactly as he’s promised, and you laugh at how much he’s bundled himself up against the New York City snow.  When you leave the airport you laugh a little less, snow already getting into your shoes.  Ominis is a gentleman through and through, and carries you from the car up the stairs to his apartment lobby.

You think your interview at MACUSA has gone well, and you start enjoying all the walking you have to do to get around the city.  Ominis takes you to all his favorite restaurants, and he shows you the drawer he’s been saving for you.  His apartment feels like home, even if you have to squeeze past the dining table to get to the bed.  The two of you Facetime Sebastian from bed, the brunette recounting his shifts at St. Mungo’s in great detail.

“Say, do you have a hospital in the city?” Sebastian asks. “If she’s going, I want to come too.  We’re a package deal.”

Ominis rolls his eyes. “Of course there’s a hospital here, Sebastian. It’s not a primitive land. It’s New York, for Merlin's sake.”

You laugh, trying not to shake the phone as you try to keep Ominis in frame.

The week passes by too fast. Ominis brings you back to the airport, and this goodbye is even harder than the one after graduation. You find it nearly impossible to take your hands off him, his lips pressing kisses to your face.  

“It’s just a little while longer,” Ominis reminds you.

“We don’t even know if I’ll get it,” you shrug.

“You’re going to get it,” Ominis assures you. It feels like deja vu, as if you’ve had this conversation before.

About a week into the second term, you receive your job offer from MACUSA.

May arrives quicker than you thought it would.  You get a few less calls with Ominis during your finals week, and he promises to make it up to you somehow.  Even though you have a job offer, it’s contingent on you passing your final exams.  Ominis quizzes you through the phone while Sebastian brings you dinner between his shifts. It’s a group effort to get you across the finish line.

You pass, and you finally get to breathe a sigh of relief. The week of your graduation is filled with parties and celebrations, Lucan inviting you to come back to the house. It doesn’t feel as right without Sebastian or Ominis inside, so you don’t stay long.  Sebastian promises he'll try to be at your graduation, trading shifts with other healers.  On the other hand, Ominis is stuck in the middle of an important case.  You tell him not to worry, and that you'll see him in a week when you move.

Come graduation day, you’re standing in front of the theater, your diploma in hand. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and you pull it out to read your texts. You have one missed message from Sebastian.

Sorry I missed your ceremony.  Got called in to cover someone’s shift this morning.  I promise I’ll be at your dinner later tonight.  Oh, and I hope you enjoy your grad present xx

You furrow your brow, typing back a response.  You don’t remember anything about a present–

“Congratulations, darling.”

You look up, nearly dropping your phone in the process. A tall lithe blond clad in a three piece suit, a MACUSA pin on the lapel.  

Ominis smiles at you, a bouquet of sunflowers in hand.

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

FOUR

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

I didn't ask for permission to take Simone's phone, but I took it harshly from her hand and looked closely at the Snapchat story. It really was Eric, dressed in a big gray t-shirt and with sweaty hair and face. I started it over when it ended just to look at him over and over inhale from the joint. I didn't notice Simone and Angelica looking at me strangely where I sat between them, breathing faster and faster.

“Do you know him?” Asked Simone in irritated confusion.

“No… But his brother is my best friend…” I said lowly and continued to look at Eric. I recognized every tattoo on his hands and arms, and his eyes looked sad, like they did when he was lost in thoughts.

“Robin?” Asked Angelica, surprised. She had met him a few times, but he acted just as polite and nice as usual. That he would have a brother like Eric probably shocked her just as much as others.

“Yeah…” I didn't have more to say than that because I was busy looking at Eric over and over.

“So he has lied to you? And said he's dead? I didn't think he hated him so much,” said Simone with a scoff. I looked up at her, and she took her phone back.

“Hate him?”

“Robin has always hated Eric, and I understand him. Eric is an egotistical, manipulative addict.”

I couldn't stop myself from being offended on his behalf and gave her an angry look.

“You're his ex! Of course you think that!” I stood up in protest, and she laughed unamused and looked down at her nails with an unreadable face.

“Yes. Yeah, because I saw him take morphine, tramadol, and heroin until he couldn't do anything other than lie in a pile on the floor. You didn't see your boyfriend piss himself on the subway. You don't even fucking know him!” She looked up at me with shiny eyes and furrowed brows. My heart beated hard in my chest. I could see the inner context behind the pictures of Eric she took. She had a picture of him on the subway. It looked like he slept with his mouth open, but maybe he was deep in his intoxication. She was his ex, but I loved him. I turned on my heel and ran out of the club. My head and heart beated with the music, and my stomach twisted like the people on the dance floor, and when I exited the club, I puked up every mojito I had been drinking that night. Bent over with my short dress riding up, I cried loudly. People probably just thought I was drunk, and after some minutes of my panicked cry, a nice guard stopped a taxi for me.

I calmed down in the taxi by the soft movement but thought about Eric's face in the Snapchat. He was alive. I could see him again.

I didn't even think about how Angelica hadn't run after me or that she didn't even send a message. I just opened up Snapchat and added “JickJackRoo42” as a friend.

×××

Robin had lied to me, but even worse, he, or Eric, had lied to Lotti. She missed Eric every day like someone had turned off the sun. I couldn't see a reason to do it and wondered what I missed. Everything was confusing, and I wondered how my dreams came into all of this. I had already decided that they weren’t just dreams, but then I found out. Eric had never been dead, and then suddenly my dreams were completely unbelievable.

The day after meeting Simone went to just think about the mess, ignoring Angelica's phone calls and looking at Snapchat after JickJack’s acception. I needed to meet Eric and see if he was the same amazing guy that he had been in my dreams. Simone had nothing good to say about him, and maybe I had believed his mother’s words a bit too much.

That day it was also time for Odin to come to me, and I knew Robin would leave him at 2 pm. We had the same routine every week. I didn't know what I felt about meeting Robin; the lie was so big, but I also wanted answers. Maybe there was a good explanation but I doubted it.

As always, he unlocked my door by himself, and I could hear him try to make Odin sit by the door, but he refused. He continued to try and try with a more irritated voice every time. Odin's whine and Robin's irritated voice stressed me and made me just more nervous at the thought of talking with Robin about Eric.

I walked out to the hallway with crossed arms, still in my pajamas.

“Let him be; he won't sit. You know it too,” I said with a tired voice and sighed. Robin looked up at me, irritated. He was as perfectly styled as usual, in a pink button-down and white jeans.

“Fine, fine. Maybe we should give up completely? That would look good!”

I looked at him and felt some sort of rebellion. He with his stupid facade. I tried to calm down taking a deep breath but instead the frog in my throat took a moment to jump out of my mouth.

“You lied to me. You lie to Lotti. Eric isn't dead!”

Robin looked at me with raised brows and released the leash, so the dog jumped around my legs. He crossed his arms and smiled in irritation.

“That doesn't concern you!” He said it angrily with a raised voice.

“It does when you lie about such a thing to me!”

He rolled his eyes at me.

“Me and Eric made that decision together for mom's best interest. He has his problems and needs to work on them.”

I shook my head in disbelief.

“His ex said you hate him.”

Robin looked at me confused but then gave me a strained smile when he realized who I've been talking to.

“He's a junkie. Yeah, I have some mixed feelings for him. It's not like it didn't affect others. I've seen my parents cry their eyes out because of him, and he just wanted money. You know, he came high to mom's Christmas party. It was a big thing for her; she had it every 22nd, and he came so fucking high he couldn't even stand up!”

I swallowed hard because I wanted to defend Eric, even if it didn't sound good at all.

“But your mom didn't care what others thought! She loved him more than anything!”

Robin paused and looked away, then laughed unamused.

“I know. That's why he even succeeded in getting her to meet his dealer because he withdrew and couldn't by himself. He forced her to meet criminals because he's a disgusting fuck that has been a parasite on my parents his whole life!”

Robin screamed the last part, and it stressed both me and Odin, but he was the only one of us that started to bark. Robin sighed and dragged a hand through his perfectly styled hair that continued to be just as perfect anyway.

“He and I made this decision together, and it's the best for my mom. He's dead, and he will continue to be,” he said before he turned around and walked out and left me and Odin with our hearts in our throats.

×××

It was too much to think about, and the only thing I wanted to do was sleep. Not to meet Eric, because I knew now he was just as alive as me. I sounded out loudly in frustration while crawling down under the cover and then motioned with my hand to Odin that he was welcome to lay next to me. He jumped up, pleased because he knew a nap meant a long walk after it.

I took a last look on my phone and saw a message from Angelica. I saw the first seven words in the notification banner:

I'm sorry, but you must understand that…

I wasn't interested in reading her excuses and was too tired and confused to even take the time to write that I didn't want to see her again. I just put the phone on my nightstand and closed my eyes. I would have probably felt different if I knew a guy named Jack had accepted my friend request just ten minutes after I'd fallen asleep. I didn't notice it until I woke up an hour later, but then I also had a chat message from him. I looked at the notice with a bit of panic. If I opened it, he would see I had looked at it, and I must answer quite fast to not seem weird. What did I want from him? I just knew I wanted to come close to Eric, but I couldn't write that to him. Lies, lies, lies. I needed lies. I opened the chat when I felt I had some lies neatly organized in my head.

Jack: Who are you?

Della: Hey, we met at a party once, and I wonder if you have Eric's address?

Jack: Eric's? Yeah sure. Do you want to buy?

I looked at my screen and sighed. Fuck, he really was selling drugs.

Della: I just want to know where he lives. Or have his number.

Jack: Haha ok. You girls…

He gave me both Eric's number and his address, just like that, without knowing who I was at all, but I guess it was different when a girl wanted that information about a guy than the other way around, and it wasn't like many were a threat to Eric when he looked like that. I smiled to myself and felt heat in my cheeks when I thought about his height and muscles. I didn't just miss Eric as a person but also his amazing body, and now I knew where he lived. He lived in the same town as my oldest sister, Demi. It was a bigger town, but my sister lived in a well-trimmed suburb. It wasn't that far away, a two-hour car ride. It would be so easy going there; I could do it tomorrow if I wanted to. Just borrow one of mom and dad's cars and… Go there.

×××

My parents never asked so many questions anymore. I was a grownup who hadn't done anything stupid in many years and had a responsible life, so when I wanted to borrow the car for a time, they didn't ask what I would do, not even when I didn't say for how many days I would have it. My dad just joked that I must pay for the gas by myself and that they wanted me for dinner soon.

Odin had traveled long distances in cars before and didn't fuss just as long as I stopped so he could pee and drink some water. He was an energetic, irritating dog quite often, but he didn't really have problems when he knew he must focus. It was like he could see the difference between different situations and when he needed to be calm.

In the car, I listened to the music me and Eric listened to together. For a few seconds, I even had the thought of listening to his Spotify account, but that felt a bit too much like stalking. It was weird that it felt like stalking, but not the fact that I was in his town. How I could fool myself that it was worse to listen to his Spotify than park outside his apartment building was a mystery.

I walked Odin on the street with a beating heart. Eric may be right there, and I would see him for real. I wondered how I would react to seeing him. It felt like I would probably cry. I had a bit of PMS, and usually that made me tear up easily.

Odin found a big pile of autumn leaves where he started to play around, and while he did that, I looked around the street. It was a rough neighborhood, and I would probably not dare sit in my car alone there at night. There was graffiti on the buildings, and the people walking by had a tough attitude I wasn't used to in my town. They didn't seem to see a reason to move away for someone else and talked loudly to not be drowned out by the cars driving by. I didn't belong there; even if I had traveled and seen much of the world, I could feel I didn't belong. I wasn't afraid or uncomfortable; I just had learned to know where I could flourish, and this wasn't it.

When the wind started to blow coldly, I began to freeze in my trenchcoat and moved to the car again, to Odin's disappointment. He would probably be pleased smelling pee and playing with orange leaves the whole day, but I needed warmth and soon a coffee to have the energy to wait on Eric.

It turned out I needed more than a coffee to be able to wait on Eric because he didn't show himself before three o'clock, but when he did, he really made an entrance into my life. He threw the door to the building open and walked out like he owned it, or like the street was his runway. He looked just like he did in my dreams. Tall and threatening but with a sad disposition.

He stopped after walking a few long steps to light a cigarette, then he continued to walk towards my car. My heart beated harder and harder in my chest for every step he took. Odin whined in the back and startled me when he suddenly made an excited bark. Eric turned his gaze to the car but couldn't see anything because of the tinted windows, but I got a moment to look straight at his face. He was so beautiful with his green mesmerizing eyes and plump lips. Even if he had small tattoos spread out in his face, he looked like artwork.

He took a drag from his cigarette but then turned his eyes forward again and walked by my car and out of my vision. I heard myself make a pained sound and pressed my hands against my eyes, even if I had worked long and hard to get my eyeliner perfect. I couldn't understand why I did this. Either I should just make contact with him or leave him alone; stalking was not an answer; it would just lead to insanity.

Even if I hadn’t thought such wise thoughts, I took long walks around his neighborhood with Odin and stared at everything that must be his everyday life. Just a block away was a gym, and I pictured him working out his toned body there. In the same building was a grocery store. He had said he loved meat and didn't eat much carbs. He cared about his diet, and I wondered if that place had what he needed. I stood and looked at a sign for tenderloin when Odin started to pull on the leash. I sighed, irritated, and pulled back on the leash, but he didn't stop pulling.

“Hey, hey, buddy,” said a voice I recognized and made my stomach and throat knot together. I followed the voice and saw Eric in his long coat making Odin sit in front of him with just a snap with his fingers. Literally, he pointed towards the ground and snapped with his fingers and made the dog sit down and look at him expectantly. Eric smirked a little and shook his head, like Odin's behavior was just silly.

“Cute dog,” said Eric kindly with a shy smile towards me, then backed off like he had done something wrong. I looked at him with big eyes without succeeding to get a word out until he had walked two steps back.

“Thank, thank you,” I stuttered and cringed because of my own awkwardness. He looked back at me with a small smile and then brightened up as he walked towards me with his hand in his pocket. In the other hand, he had a package of eggs I just noticed. When he came up, he pulled out his hand to give me a small piece of paper with a picture of a neon sign; “The Pulse.” Under it was a text: “Failed Human Experiments” and the date for that Saturday.

I looked at him confused, and he looked at me once unsure.

“Ehm, if you want to experience some sick DJ’s,” he said with a shoulder shrug.

“Oh, oh, it's, it's you?”

I felt my cheeks heat.

“No, no. Some friends. But yeah. You can come, if you want.” He shrugged again and then walked away so fast I didn't even have time to give him a goodbye. If I hadn't met him before, I would have thought he was weird and maybe thought some prejudiced things about his looks, but I knew he had a shy side, and it probably didn't come natural to him to talk with someone unknown like that. He was probably also used to people having prejudices about him, some of them even true.

I looked at his broad back covered in the black coat while Odin whined by my feet. I hurried back to the car to be alone again and be able to let Odin sit by himself in the back so I didn't need to think about him. Then I leaned my forehead to the steering wheel and cried. It was really Eric. Kind, sweet, dangerous Eric. My Eric.

I looked at the paper, damp from my sweaty hand. Saturday. The Pulse. He must be there.

×××

“So a guy?” Asked my oldest sister, Demi, while looking at me doing my eyeliner in front of the bathroom mirror. She sat on the edge of the bathtub while her oldest daughter, Lina, sat on the toilet lid. I didn't really appreciate an audience while doing my makeup, but they had been nice enough to give me a bed when I had asked to sleep there to go out on a date. A date, that was what I called it. I said the same thing to Robin after having left Odin with him in an awkward manner.

“Yeah, I met him on Tinder.” I lied and tried to fix the wing on my left eye.

“What's his name?” Asked my sister’s daughter curiously with a giggle.

“Eric…” I said with a small smile and searched after my powder in my makeup bag.

“You're blushing!” Teased Demi with a giggle. I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop smiling. I was such a lost case.

“He's just really sweet.”

“Can I see his pictures?”

I stopped searching in my makeup bag to just imagine her reaction to Eric's appearance. Her husband was a teacher and looked like the stereotypical math teacher in outdated glasses and dad bod.

“I want to meet him first before sharing that. Maybe you know him or something.”

I didn't believe my sister knew him, but I needed an excuse, and on top of that, I didn't even have any pictures of Eric on my phone.

“Yeah okay. But be careful, and if he seems weird in any way, just leave.”

I smiled a little; her “big sister warning” was cute.

“I promise.”

×××

The club was not far from where Eric lived and didn't look like much to the world from the outside; it was just the same neon sign as on the paper but a long line with people, alongside the building, waiting to get in. It calmed me to see, but it also scared me because many of them had a similar look as Eric, but of course not his looks.

I had never gone to a club by myself before and probably looked like I didn't belong there. Not so much because of my appearance because there were other not so expressive people also standing in line, but I probably looked quite terrified, so a girl with blue hair felt some sort of need to take care of me until we came in, and then it was me who said goodbye because I had a mission.

“One mojito, please, with extra mint!” I shouted to the bartender with a shaved tattooed skull. He gave me a nod, and while he mixed, I looked around in the club.

It looked quite rundown, with scribbles and posters falling apart from the walls, but I understood it was a part of the look they were going for. They wanted a punky aura even if they played techno and other electronic genres.

When I'd paid for my drink, I walked around and looked at people dancing hysterically, chatting up by the walls, or pushing to get some air in the small alley outside. It was a cool place, but my friends, like the girls in the salon who were much more uptight than me, would have complained about the smell of weed and the dirty toilets. Robin would have refused to even go in.

After my second turn, I had drunk up my drink and walked to the bar to get a new one. It was crowded with people around it, and the bald guy and a guy with long hair worked as fast as they could. Or almost as fast as they could because both of them sometimes took a small break to talk to a guy by the bar closest to the wall. He had been so annoying and took a high chair to sit by the bar even if there were signs that chairs by the bar weren't allowed. I looked at the bald guy throwing a can of Coke towards the guy on the chair, and I saw a big tattooed hand catch it easily. “PARA”. It read on his knuckles, and I knew “DISE” was written on the other hand. Eric. I sighed at my own bodily reactions when I saw him completely. He wore an acid patterned t-shirt in a khaki color, had his little dagger dangling from his earlobe, and black smudged eyeliner. He laughed at the bald guy and opened his can so he could mix it with his glass of whiskey.

“One mojito, please. With extra mint,” I said distractedly to the bald guy as I continuously glanced over at Eric. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't stop myself from wanting to see his every movement.

“Sure.”

If I had looked at the bartender, I would have seen him smirk at me by my obvious fascination for his friend, but I didn't notice, I just noticed Eric looking around a bit bored and drinking his whisky cola a bit too fast.

“Do you want your drink?” Asked the bartender with humor, and I looked at him confused, then down at the mojito in front of me.

“Oh, sorry…”

I grabbed my card but looked towards Eric again. I paid with fumbling fingers and then dropped the card on the ground. I groaned loudly to myself; I was just too embarrassing. When I came up from the floor again, I met the bartender’s eyes. 

“Is it Eric you’re looking at?” He nodded towards him where he sat, playing with his cigarette pack. “Sorry to say, but… He's not interested.” 

I furrowed my brows in confusion. The bartender licked his lips and looked towards Eric, then leaned closer to me like he would tell me a secret. 

“He has a broken heart.” 

I looked at the bartender, and my eyes probably looked sad because he nodded like he felt the same thing.

“But I get you. He's a handsome dude, and you're not the first one to try.” 

I continued to just look at him with big eyes. I was disappointed, fascinated, and worried for Eric. A broken heart. I turned my eyes towards Eric again, who had stood up with a cigarette between his lips. He walked by me on his way out, and I tried to catch his eyes. I would almost throw myself at him to just get some attention, but his gaze was high, like he looked over everyone else from his high height. I could see girls looking at him with big eyes, but he didn't acknowledge anyone, even if some of them were hot in the same way as his ex. He just wanted a smoke. 

××× 

While the DJs played, I just looked dreamily towards Eric, trying to get him to look back at me, but he acted like I didn't exist. He still sat by the bar, so I stayed there too. I saw him look towards me a couple of times but lowered his gaze at once. I had thought we would have the same chemistry as in my dreams, but in real life Eric wasn't at all as easy to come close to. In a way, it was understandable. We weren't alone here, and we didn't make the rules. 

The bartender, Nick, gave me an empathetic look, and when Eric walked away to the restroom, he looked at me with a shrug. 

“He's shy too. He isn't that fond of attention, not even from pretty girls, like you.”

I smiled a little pained and looked away, trying to pretend I didn't care so much, even if I did. 

When the clock was 01.00 AM, I started to give up, and maybe Nick noticed that because suddenly he shouted towards me. 

“The gang is going to Jacks; a dude living across the street, do you want to join? Eric can take care of you!” 

I looked at Nick surprised, then at Eric, who had a similar look, but it shifted towards numbness. I really didn't think he would be so socially awkward. 

“Sure, okay,” I said and smiled at Nick and then at Eric, who gave me a big-eyed look. That pretty, weird boy. 

“Nick!” Shouted Eric and leaned over the bar; he said something to him, then he got his coat that was laying under the bar counter. He turned to me, and with long but slow steps, he walked up to me. 

“Eh, I'm going to Jacks now; I need a quieter place, but you can come with me if you want?” He looked between me and the door, which made him seem insecure and stressed. I wanted to calm him down in some way, even more when I realized he couldn't really stand still. For a moment I wondered if he had taken something that made him act like he did, but it didn't look like it. 

“Sure, okay. I must get my jacket in the wardrobe.” 

“Sure, cool, I’ll wait outside.” 

He pointed to the door and then walked away. He didn't need to think about pushing forward because people moved away from him like he was death himself. Big and black and frightening. I walked to the wardrobe, pushing my way forward without seeing where I really was going because of all the people in the way, but for once I didn't become irritated. My body was full of raspberry red, sugary syrup, and humming like hummingbirds. I took my trench coat and then met Eric. I didn't feel nervous anymore, the determination and joy had taken over, and now I was just focused on getting to know him. Again? 

He stood a bit away from the entrance, smoking a cigarette with his other hand stuffed in the front pocket of his black cargo pants. The wind played with his long coat. I had thought it would be just me to walk up to him and then leave, but in front of him stood two girls. They must have been in their early twenties and giggled hysterically. Eric looked as detached as he had done before and even yawned while the girls in front of him jabbed on. When he lifted his eyes and saw me, he actually looked relieved. 

“Ready to go?” He said loudly to me, so I could hear him where I was. The girls turned around to see me and looked at me up and down. 

“Yeah!” I said with a bright smile and walked up to him, who just gave the girls a nod as a goodbye and then started to walk. 

“Ehm, I'm Eric, by the way,” he said and looked at me quickly. 

“I'm Della, or Delilah, but everyone says Della.” 

Now he turned to me for real and slowed down his steps. He smiled kindly, and it made the raspberry-red syrup boil in my blood. 

“I like Delilah. It's a nice name. Ehm, do you know Nick?” 

“No… Eh, I just think he thought I looked lonely. I'm here visiting, so I don't have any friends here.” 

He nodded a little and took a drag of his cigarette. 

“You're quite brave… I don't want to; it sounds off, but I mean, you're here alone with a dude looking like me. I really don't mean I'm that sort of guy when I say that I just know that-” 

I giggled at his rambling, and when he looked at me, I gave him a warm smile. 

“I get it; I get what you mean, but... You look really kind,” I said honestly. Eric looked at me with big eyes but then down in the ground with a little smile. He dropped his cigarette and stomped on it casually. 

“Ehm, Jack lives on the corner, on the left side. He's quite weird though, just so you know, but there isn't anything malicious in him. He was just dropped as a child or something.” 

I laughed a little, and Eric gave me a shy smile as an answer. I looked down at his hand that hung between us. It looked like it craved a smaller hand to hold, but I would never dare to do that, not to a guy like Eric who didn't give any flirtatious vibes at all. 

“I don't know if you remember, but you gave me the leaflet about this night? The DJs? It was outside of this store-” 

Eric looked first confused, then a light went up. 

“Yeah! You had that dog. He was nice,” he said with a small smile. I wanted to say that Odin adored him, but I didn't say anything; I just smiled back. 

We went up to the second floor where Jack lived, and Eric knocked on the door. A short guy with a bleached buzz cut and as many tattoos as Eric, let us in and looked at me up and down. 

“Shit. The fuck man, you always get the best ass,” he said, hitting Eric's chest. 

“Don't say shit like that. Be nice, Jackie,” said Eric and laid a friendly hand on his shoulder. 

“Sorry, my lady. What's your name, pretty?” He asked and helped me take off my coat while Eric took off his. I had already come up with how to explain my interaction with him on Snapchat, but it wasn't needed because Jack didn't react to my name. He gave Eric a brotherly hug and asked him if he wanted a blunt. 

“Yeah,” he answered shortly and gave me a look. I hadn't smoked since my European trip and knew I could get quite embarrassing from it. I didn't seem to need much to think I was a great philosopher. 

I looked around in the apartment with a beer in my hand, even if Jack had just given me the bottle and not permission to walk around, it felt like he would be chill with it. There wasn't much to see though. It was more or less just a bed, a couch, and a TV. Over the bed hung a poster with a marijuana leaf, and behind the couch was a mandala tapestry in blue tones. 

“Do you want one, babe?” Jack asked me. At first I didn't react because of the nickname, but when I saw his questioning look, I just shook my head. Eric gave me a fast look before sitting down in the corner of the couch closest to Jack's phone that was connected to the speakers in the corner. There was some trance-like ska playing, but Eric changed it to Sonic Youth’s Kool Thing and leaned back with a sigh. 

“So what are you doing here, pretty? I'm not complaining, not at all, it’s just that Eric isn't really the kind of guy to bring a girl over,” said Jack and sat down in the middle of the couch. My option was to either sit next to him or sit down on the floor, so I sat down on the floor, even if my denim skirt was a bit too tight for it. 

“I got invited by Nick.” 

“Oh, okay… So you're like, ‘with him’?” 

“No.” I smiled a little amused at him because it was obvious what he wanted with this. I gave Eric a look, and he smirked at me. I felt my cheeks warm, but I needed to stay in that moment, not in my dreams or what I wanted to happen. 

“Oh… Where do you live? You can take my bed if you want to. I can take the couch. Aren’t I a gentleman?” 

I laughed. 

“Yeah, Jackie, you seem to be such a gentleman.” 

Me and Eric gave each other a look again, and Jackie gave him a sour look. 

“Don't steal the bitch now!” 

“Jackie! We don't say shit like that!” Eric said, taking a pre-rolled joint, and putting it between his lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, but you, fucking close your eyes and let the grownups talk now!” 

I laughed at the banter and leaned back on my hands. Jackie turned his eyes to me again and scanned my body up and down with bloodshot eyes. 

“So my bed?” 

I shook my head with a smile, looked at Eric again, and stood up. 

“Can I sit next to you? I don't trust that dude,” I said to him and looked at the little space next to him. “The floor got uncomfortable quite fast.”

Eric looked at the little space then moved closer to Jackie, who scoffed and moved in the same direction. I gave Eric a smile and sat down next to him. It was a bit cramped, and to my surprise, he took my legs and laid them in his lap so he could spread out his legs again. He dragged a finger over my black tights but seemed to correct himself and pulled it away fast. He was a good boy.

××× 

“I think it looks better on you!” He said it with a wide smile while looking down on my phone. I showed him a picture of me with bright red hair after he had shown a picture of himself in a bright red short hairstyle. 

“My eyes don't look bright like yours does. Red with your green eyes is magnetic!”

We sat in the same position but in some way closer to each other. It was him who probably scooted closer, so my bum rested against the outside of his thigh. Maybe it was the weed that made him relax because he also had his big, tattooed hand on my shin.

“I had a bit of red here too.” He showed me a picture of him at 20 or something with a high mohawk in black and red. The tattoos on his head were more visible. 

“Oh my god! Did you wear it like that every day?” 

“No, I was forced to put it in a bun and instead got accused of having a 'man bun’.”

We had started to talk about our professions, like you often do with a new person, and he told me about his work as a janitor while I told him about my hair stylist job. Then it floated on to all the weird hairstyles we've had. He thought my job was much more interesting than his, and it was sweet how he could talk about hairstyles he wanted to have and hairstyles he liked on girls. The only thing he shared about his own work was that he worked as a night janitor for several buildings and companies and did everything from fixing the electricity to saving a cat from a ventilation system. 

Nick had joined us from work, and he and Jackie sat and talked with each other, but he looked amused at me and Eric sometimes. I felt some sort of pride that I had made Eric relax but also felt a disappointment sneaking up behind me. It was obvious Nick thought we were flirting, but Eric wasn't flirty; he was just friendly. He was kind and sweet in the same way you’d treat the elderly.

“I think I must go soon; I need some hours of sleep and workout before I go to work," he said while looking at his phone, showing 03:38. 

“Oh,” I said disappointedly and moved my legs from his lap. “When do you start to work?”

“5 pm, I have the first night shift today.” 

Eric stood up and walked out to the hallway, and I followed him to his surprise. 

“So, where do you live when you're here in town?” 

I told him the name of the suburb my sister lived in, and he looked up at me with big eyes after he put on his black vans. 

“That's quite far away… How do you—I hope you don't take the subway all by yourself?” He said it with sincere worry and put on his coat. 

“It's okay.” I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. I had taken the subway alone in New York, Paris, and other metropolitan areas. He stood a while and looked at me while playing with his keys and the cigarette pack in the pocket of his coat. I continued to smile and leaned against the doorframe to the living room. I would go when he had said goodbye. 

“Ehm… I live just around the corner; do you want to borrow my couch? I don't like the thought of you traveling by yourself. I promise, no funny business; I just want to know that you're okay.” 

I looked at him, my cheeks were probably red. I cleared my throat and laughed at my own beating heart. 

“It would be super kind of you, Eric,” I said and dared to move closer to him. I had a stupid idea about kissing him. He smiled but moved back to the door, like he knew and rejected my idea. 

×

[kiwanopie]

heyyy!! do u think we can get some sort of drabble with crime!au kiyoomi and his fiancé?? i’d love to see how they interact ~~~~ :)))

You pick at a hangnail as dress shoed feet click before you.

You don’t lift your head as orchestral music muffles under the click of a shutting door. You don't even hear it. Too immersed in your own racing thoughts to hear anything outside of the rattling in your skull. It’s ironic how radiant you look in your wedding dress. So aglow you compliment the gemstones in your tiara. Because you feel so sick you could puke your guts out till your stomach lining tore. So high strung you haven’t slept since he parted with you the day before.

Your pupils scutter over nothing as you pick at the skin until it bleeds. Tear it off your nail until the elastic of your cuticle strips down to the root of your thumb, and feel it start to ail as the wound throbs. You barely notice. Rather, stay clueless to the sting in the midst of your silent daze.

But it’s short lived. Those familiar larger palms incase your hands in their loving grip, careful in their cradle. He’s flower petal gentle as he brings one of your hands toward himself and wraps your thumb in a thin bandage. And even in his crouched position beside the makeup chair does he almost see eye to eye with you, all 6’4 of him meagerly attempting to look as small as possible for a woman he has no intention of causing any more distress to.

His voice is balming, it always is when he addresses you. “What are you thinking about, angel?”

You silently furrow into his hands.

“I-I’m…”

“I don’t...” You shake your head. “I’m sorry. Everybody’s out there waiting for me and I-I’m-“

Kiyoomi cuts you off quietly. “Don’t even think about that. Today is about us. No one else.”

You frown.

“I’m… Kiyoomi… Out of all people…” And it’s a good thing this makeup is waterproof because you’re surely about to push it to its limit. “Why me? Why choose me?”

“Don’t ask me a question like that.”

“But why, Omi?” Your lip wobbles. “I-I’m not like you. I don’t think like you, I don’t have the same training that you do, o-or the strength to be able to handle a lifestyle like this. I’m not the wife of a kingpin. The only reason I’m here is because-“

Kiyoomi firmly shushes you as he stands to his feet. Too burly and too tall, blocking out the overhead lights till the raven tufts of curls on his scalp turn miscolored and fluorescent. Like always your eyes follow him in his movements, like always, he’s ginger as he pulls you in his grasp.

Your nose is mushed into the cotton of his button up, his lips are warm and definite as he presses them against your forehead. “I don’t care about titles or circumstance. I don’t care about any of those things...” Kiyoomi swallows. “I love you and I need you. If this lifestyle is what you’re worried about then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and taken care of.”

You sniffle against his dress shirt. Something like that should be comforting. Especially in the arms of your future husband - one half of a bonafide national empire, and you, soon to be its elegant latter halve. Saying you fear your safety may have been a little asinine to say. In this past year and a half, you haven't so much as gotten a splinter without being assured that whatever half-cocked piece of wood that wronged you would wind up making soot prints in some landfill. You could throw a rock and hit a corpse before it even got the chance to berate you. Saying something like that will only encourage him more. An excuse to distance you from your public freedoms, and hire men that all but follow you around and chew your food for you. And even though it’s pig shit to deal with, it's already habitual. It gives you room to keep your fears to a one man minimum. But with that being said,

Kiyoomi skims his nose down the bridge of yours till his breath is kissing fever spots on your Cupid’s bow. Shivery puffs of desperate air, overwhelmed in his distance. He pinkens like a schoolboy when he’s too close for too long. Amps himself up just to trill at the high he gets from being this near - but not near enough to taste the bliss that’s your candied lips. He loves you. - He loves you. He loves you. So much it makes him shudder. Even in the short time he’s had his hands on you his palms have gone sweaty. Making hotspots on your cheekbones as he thumbs your stray tears aside.

“I know we’re not the most… conventional couple,” Quasi-post-Stockholm syndrome? “How hard things were for you in the beginning, and how much it took for us to get here. I wish I could’ve done this the right way. - You deserve that much.”

“But I love you so much it makes me sick. It’s the only thing that keeps me breathing.”

You lean into his hands as he scoots away to get a good look at you. His lovesick eyes turn the whites of yours a stinging scarlet, and you hate that seeing him get choked up cuts you so deeply.

But he only ever really cries in front of you anyway. A man this neck deep in generational human trafficking, drug trading, arms dealing, and like a million other equally awful things, should have his fair moments to excuse himself for a quiet weep. “Kiyoomi…”

“I’m sorry,” He leans in for a watery kiss. “I’m sorry. Weakness is the last thing we need from me right now.”

You guide his head against yours, and share the weight with a linchpin. It’s so recurrent that it’s earnest when you console him. “Wellness is, baby. This is about the both of us.”

“I… already don’t know what my life would be like without you. I never think about it. Every day it’s you and when are you gonna be home. - Are you gonna come back to me in one piece? Will you still be you and will you love me the same? What would I do alone in that big house?”

You mirror his thumb as you sweep away his tears. “What would I do if I didn’t have you anymore?”

The way Kiyoomi melts into your grasp is like the anodyne of a baby bird, crooning as you assague him. There’s nothing on this earth that could give him the comfort you do, and the realization of that feels brand new every time.

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

It’s a fresh wound. Accustomed to your chains to the extent that each chafe feels like a kiss. Metal burrowing in torrid welts, but the key’s a stipulation. Only freed by requisition.

“It’s not about safety… if anything happens to us. I’d rather it be me.” You whisper. “If not to know you’ll keep living, my peace would be in finally resting. Not wondering. Not worrying.”

“Regardless of our unconventionality,” You kiss him. “I love you.”

[simply-cooler]

anyways here’s the marauders era characters at a taylor swift themed birthday party

gosh, that’s a lengthy title

lily evans is our birthday girl!! (wish her happy birthday!! >:( )

regulus black does NOT want to there, but james dragged him out of his hibernation cabin (his room). he’s in a black and white suit, and a snake ring. he refused to wear any color or do anything else taylor swift related.

sirius black is very excited to be there, unlike his brother. james still had to drag him out of his room because he is not a morning person. many pillows were thrown at james’ face that morning. hes also wearing a black and white suit but with a dark green tie, shoes, and an assortment of reputation rings.

barty crouch was invited by regulus as plus one as long as he behaved. (he did NOT behave, he threw up on the pavement due to too much drinking). he’s wearing black button up shirt and a leather miniskirt. he dyed his hair a streak of purple in honor of speak now. lily hated his outfit, but he was too busy partying to care.

lily evans, our lovely birthday girl, was in a green dress, her curls pinned up, and in cowboy boots. her nails were a beautiful teal color.

remus lupin obviously wanted to go, he loves his best friend, lily evans. however, he was very stressed about what to wear. “eras tour attire?!? lily, what even is that??” he exclaimed when he got the invite. with the help of lily and sirius, he found himself in a folklore cardigan, grey dress pants, a button up shirt, and grey dress shoes. he hated the outfit, “who wears a cardigan over a button up shirt?” he thought, but shut his mouth in support for lily.

mary macdonald was very, very excited for her best friends’ party. like barty, she also wanted to dress up for speak now. however, she took another approach with a purple ballgown, her curls with bows in them, and heels. she was very scared of upstaging her best friend. she checked many times that lily was okay with her outfit. lily being lily loved it and was happy that there were some of her friends who actually dressed up nice.

marlene mckinnon didn’t know much about taylor swift, but she was ready with the help of mary and lily. she opted for a big red shirt that stated “a lot going on right now”, little ripped black shorts and red sneakers. “are you sure i’m not underdressed,” she asked mary when seeing her ball gown. “no, you look lovely,” lily exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

dorcas meadows also didn’t know much about taylor swift, but she was assisted by Pinterest. she had created a board just for this event. she wore a long, flowly yellow dress and cowboy boots, representing the fearless era.

peter pettigrew wasn’t very excited to go. he loved lily and all that, but he didn’t know what to wear at all. he settled on a big, brown sweater and pants for evermore. lily let him borrow a necklace that had “evermore” written in gold, cursive letters.

james potter was very excited to go, in support of his girlfriend/friend (ur choice if u ship jily or not). he woke up bright and early, even before lily. he wore a red sweater and black dress pants, along with his spider-man sneakers. lily did not approve of his shoe choice, but didn’t say anything.

evan rosier was not invited, but came as bartys plus one. lily was very frustrated, saying that barty was a plus one, and that plus ones don’t get to invite other people. she was also remarking that there wasn’t enough food for them. so, evan came with a basket of his own snacks for him and his boyfriend, barty. he wore a white vest with black details and a white colored shirt under, along with white dress pants and black shoes. lily did not appreciate that he didn’t come as an era, but she was happy that he was dressed so formally. he also was the one to pat barry’s back as he puked.

pandora was not invited but evan took her as his plus one. lily was very angry to see that evan also brought someone with him. but, pandora was the most normal out of her, barty, and evan, so lily held her tongue. she wore a pink, heart resin top and a flowly white skirt. she had heart clips in her braids. lily even complimented her outfit.

predictably, the night was very chaotic.

[bellysoupset]

Wendy rolled on the bed, which was still so warm, and let out a chuckle as she heard a groan to her left. It was a little distant, although pretty loud, so she figured Vince was no longer in bed.

Rubbing her eyes, Wendy tugged on Vin's oversized hoodie so it was sitting right on her and got out of the bed, walking to the bathroom. The place was already pretty cramped and it certainly hadn't been made for her 6'4 boyfriend to drape himself on the ground, forehead resting on his forearm, which was sitting on the toilet rim.

"Ho ho ho?" She grinned, leaning against the door, "I'm gonna guess you regret all the wine from yesterday?" Wendy felt a jolt of pleasure as her boyfriend's throat bobbed at the mention of alcohol.

Yesterday had been the 25th and Vince had been delegated to Santa. Not only he had eaten all the cookies that Liv put out, while dressed in satin red and sporting a fake beard, but he had pulled out the performance of his life. Wendy would be lying if she said she didn't have a blast, watching Livia's eyes get the size of saucers as Santa guided her outside to find the pink bike she wanted, with a red ribbon on top.

Then, in return for his hard work at keeping the magic of Christmas alive, Vince had decided he could and should down two bottles of red wine as the night stretched on.

"I never wanna drink again," Vince groaned, pushing himself up and belching over the water, a thin dribble of pink puke falling inside the bowl.

"Really? Bummer, there's a merlot downstairs calling your name," Wendy teased him and Vince gagged at the thought, back curling as he heaved and brought up a bit more vomit.

"You're so mean," he whined, wrapping an arm around his bloated stomach and curling up again. He had sweat through his long sleeved shirt, the ratty fabric glued to his back and clinging to his tummy. Vince had always had a belly, but today he was really channeling in Santa, his tummy rounding out and poking out of the top.

"Yeah, I'm terrible," Wendy rolled her eyes, walking further into the bathroom and crouching down behind him, carefully pulling back Vince's hair and twisting the curls on the sides, so she could use her own hair clip to keep them behind his head, "how long have you been here, honey?"

"Uhm..." Vince groaned, burping again and pressing on his tummy, which let out an upset growl. He breathed frantically, drool dripping down his bottom lip and then heaved once more, a bigger gush of wine smelling vomit hitting the bowl. Wendy cringed, getting up to press the flush and then sitting behind him again.

"Vin?"

"Too long," he groaned, forcefully clearing his throat and spitting in the now clear water, "feels like I've been here forever and I'm still not empty."

"I mean, you did drain two bottles of wine, honey," she chuckled, rubbing his arm, "I hope you realize that's enough to kill a smaller man."

"Maybe it's enough to kill me too, because I feel like I'm dying," Vince whined, rubbing at his forehead, "my head is pounding like hell."

"You're dehydrated," Wendy sighed, getting up and going back to the room, grabbing his bottle of water, "here. Small sips."

"I'm not dehydrated, my belly is all sloshy," Vince scoffed, poking his bloated tummy and Wendy nearly fell flat on her back as his belly immediately sloshed like a waterbed. Her cheeks turned red and she breathed through the hot flash, catching just the last flicker of Vin's cheeky smile.

"You are horrible," she glared at him, "how am I going to explain to your family I'm hard because you're dying, uh?"

"There's no one here," Vince chuckled lightly, but there was no real intent behind his friendly teasing. He was feeling too much like death to engage in any frisky activity and Wendy knew it. She rolled her eyes, poking the bottle he was holding.

"Small sips, I'm gonna go grab some food. Greasy bacon?"

"UrghrkK-" was his answer, a sick belch that had him scrambling for the bowl, some red puke splattering on the lid as he threw himself against the toilet.

She sighed, squeezing his shoulder, "trust me, honey, it'll help. Keep drinking the water, I'll be right back."

Wendy pressed her lips not to laugh as she sauntered downstairs - now wearing pants - and found Sophia draped over the kitchen island, arms wrapped around her stomach. Her parents had allowed the teenager a couple glasses of wine, since Vince was going all out and Soph was about to turn 18, but clearly she regretted it already.

"Morning," Wendy said cheerfully, causing the other girl to glare her way, while Vince's dad looked up from where he was sitting in the little makeshift breakfast nook and smiled.

"Buongiorno, Wendy," he pointed the oven, "I made pancakes and bacon, suit yourself."

"Thank you... Where's Ma?"

"Asleep," Giuseppe smiled fondly, "she overworked herself yesterday, nothing more fair than to let her sleep in."

Wendy agreed, munching on some bacon. Ma had gone all out, she had made Wendy almost feel ashamed of what she called hosting, "everything was gorgeous and delicious."

Vin's dad only smiled in a proud way, as if saying yes-I-know, "where's Vincenzo?"

"Wanna guess?" Wendy chuckled, making up a plate for her sick boyfriend. Giuseppe only chuckled at that.

"He's always been a lightweight," he commented, causing Wendy's eyebrows to jump. She definitely didn't consider two bottles of wine a lightweight, but then again Vin's entire family was as tall as he was, so maybe they just had different standards around here.

Europeans, Wendy thought, laughing to herself, "I'm gonna take these for him..." she circled Sophia, "honey, eat something greasy, it's going to help."

"Don't talk to me," Sophia mumbled, her accent much more prominent than ever before, "g'away."

Giuseppe chuckled at that, gesturing for Wendy to go and not pay his daughter any mind. As she was walking out, she heard the old man tease the teenage girl as he said, "no more wine for you, piccola?"

"Babbooooo!"

Wendy was still giggling as she walked back in the bedroom, holding a plate filled with goodies. Vince was no longer crouched in front of the toilet, but he had shut the door and she could hear the shower running.

She planted the plate down on the bedside table, doing the messy bed and changing out of her clothes into something warmer and more fitting for the day. It was shaping up to be a lazy type of day with them just cuddling in bed for the best half of it, but regardless Wendy didn't want to be in her pajamas in case his parents and sisters came knocking.

Vince's phone buzzed across the room and Wendy glanced at it, but didn't bother getting it, knocking on the door of the bathroom, "are you alright?"

"Peachy!" Vince's voice was still husky as hell, but at least he sounded more like his goofy self. A couple minutes later he stepped out, a towel around his shoulders and sweat pants hanging low on his hips, shoved away from his bloated belly.

Wendy bit down her lip, "hi there," she grinned, tip toeing to kiss him, "I like your outfit."

"Yeah yeah, figures," Vince groaned, but kissed her back, before sluggishly walking to the bed and sitting down. He eyed the plate filled with food with a grimace on his face, paling a little more, "do I have to?"

"Just one bacon?" Wendy suggested, grabbing the towel that was hanging around his shoulders and starting to dry his hair. Vince whined.

"You're gonna make my curls look awful, that's not how you dry curly hair, Wen."

"Oh," she dropped her hands and he rolled his eyes at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his face on her chest, since she was standing between his legs.

"You're comfy..."

"And you're sweet. Eat," she pushed his forehead slightly.

"Uhm," Vince grumbled, gagging around the bacon piece he was trying to eat and muffling a sick burp against Wendy's tummy, "the wine was a horrible idea, a terrible... Disgusting idea," he gagged again, before forcefully swallowing and reaching for his water bottle.

He chugged on the water and once again slumped against her, letting out a sigh as he felt Wendy's delicate fingers running through his damp hair.

"Your phone was buzzing, by the way," Wendy said quietly, clearly just enjoying the makeshift hug. Vince let out a grunt, falling on his back and spreading on the bed to grab his phone in his jacket, hanging on the opposite bed post. He squinted at the screen and then groaned, dropping the phone back on his chest.

"I can't read, my head hurts."

She chuckled, pushing his thigh slightly so she could join him on the bed, taking his phone and resting a hand on Vince's upset belly, rubbing it as she clicked on the notification.

"It's a text from Leo..." Wendy's voice dipped at the end, as she read Leo's words, "uhm... I don't- I don't get it..."

Leo: what is it that I hear about you leaving? As in leaving town? For good??

"What?" Vince yawned, oblivious to Wendy's frown. He had closed his eyes and planted his hand over hers, still resting on his belly, "read it to me, maybe it's a joke?"

"I don't think it's a joke," Wendy pulled her hand back from his grip, getting up from the bed, reading the text again, "he's asking if you're leaving? Leaving town... For good?"

If Wendy had any hopes of this being just a joke, they flew out of the window as Vince visibly flinched, paling at least two shades and quickly sat up on the bed.

"Wen-"

"Vince, what is this?" she raised the phone, shaking it, "why is he saying you're leaving town?"

"I'm not-"

"So Leo is lying?" she could feel her voice raising, just as her heart was starting to race, "Vince, what is he talking about!?"

"Hey," Vince's voice softened up as he got up too, closing the distance between them in two steps, "Wendy, calm down, let's talk this over, c'mere."

"Talk what over!?" she hissed, but allowed him to pull her back to the bed, where they both sat down, "just start talking already, Vince!"

"Lately, I- I've been considering... Moving here. Home, I mean..." he winced as Wendy's eyes widened and she dropped his phone as if it was burning, "closer to my parent-"

"This is why you haven't been sleeping," Wendy concluded, voice suddenly icy cold. She got up, pushing Vin's hands away when he tried keeping her close, "right? This is why you've had these huge dark circles lately and Luke- And Luke knows and if Lucas' knows, this means that Bella...And Jonah know too, that's how Leo knows," she paced the room, "so literally everyone knew you'd be breaking up with me at fucking Christmas and no one told me."

"Bre- WHAT?!" Vince exclaimed, confused, "no, Wendy, what the hell, I'm not breaking up with you! Where did you even- I'm not breaking up, don't even joke about that-"

"I'm not joking," she crossed her arms, ignoring the sudden burn in her eyes and the way her throat was closing up, "if you're not dumping me then what are you doing?"

"I'm not doing- I'm not breaking up with you, that's for sure. I'm... I'm just considering moving here, I was going to talk with you-"

"WHEN!?" She exclaimed suddenly, "when you made up your mind on dumping me!? Meanwhile, you get to have a lovely girlfriend and stay at-"

"There's no scenario where I'm breaking up with you, Wendy! I love you!" Vince got up from the bed, crossing the room again and Wendy took a step back, glaring at him.

"You just said you didn't make up your mind on moving here-"

"Yeah, but I was going to ask- I wanted us to move here together!" He exclaimed and Wendy was so shocked that for a second she stopped feeling like crying.

"You wanted me to move here? To Doveport?" She repeated, numbly, and Vince nodded eagerly.

"We could get a place together and- And my old high school said they'd love having me as- as a teacher..." He stumbled over his words, barely meeting her eyes, as Wendy glared at him, "and I looked into it and the local hospital has a neurology program and-"

"Sounds like you thought this through, alright," Wendy said, coldly, feeling her heart all but crack in her chest, "only forgot to fucking ask me."

Vince looked up, every bit like a wounded puppy, "I didn't- I hadn't made up my mind, I was going to-"

"You're not going to fucking Gone Girl me," Wendy scoffed, starting to move around the room, grabbing the pieces of clothing lying around and throwing it inside her suitcase, "you're out of your damn mind."

"Gone Girl you...?" Vince frowned, following her around, "what are you doing?" he noticed her grabbing her things, "Wendy, stop- What do you mean!?" forcefully, he took the shirt she was clutching on for dear life.

Wendy blinked against the sudden tears, trying to pull the shirt back, before giving up and shoving his chest out of sheer frustration, "did it occur you to ask me if I wanted to move to the middle of fucking nowhere to be close to your family!? No, it didn't! You were very happy going through your options, while using me as a holiday date and free bed and breakfast-" a sob came up and she pressed her knuckles to her lips, trying to bite it down.

Vince let out a little pitiful noise, crouching down slightly, "honey, honey, please don't cry, I never meant to hurt you. There was no decision, I just wanted us to get through the holidays before-"

"Before you gave me the ultimatum that either I move with you or we bre-break up!?" Wendy scoffed, fat tears running down her face, "I feel sss-sostupid, I thought- I thought we were moving in to-together," she was full on shaking now and Vince stepped even closer, attempting to wipe down the tears, only to receive a sharp slap to his hand when he tried touching her face.

"Don't fucking touch me," Wendy scoffed, turning around and zipping up her bag, "I can't believe everyone- Everyone knew, but me. I'm- You're such a fucking asshole."

"No one- I didn't talk with anyone, Wendy. Would you please look at me? Please, just let me explain, Wen..."

"Nothing to explain," she got up, dragging her bag, "you said all that needed to be said-"

"I don't wanna break up," Vince grabbed the back of her coat, and Wendy immediately grabbed his wrist, trying to get him to let go, "I love you, Wendy. I don't want to hurt you, I never meant to hurt you like this... I wanted us to talk this over-"

"Luke has known for weeks," Wendy hissed, squeezing his fingers, frothing at the mouth. She was so devastated, it was turning into anger, boiling in her stomach, "for weeks and it didn't occur you to talk with me. To ask if I- Let go of my jacket! We're done Vince, let go off me!"

"Done?" Vince's grip loosened up and he widened his eyes, "Wendy, please, don't say that. We're not done, couples fight-"

"This isn't a fight," Wendy scoffed, stumbling back as he fully let her go. She straightened up, "you wanted to go then fucking go, but there's no world where I leave my town and my- my life to follow you to this place just because you wanna continue being a momma's boy."

"You're not being fair..." Vince frowned, his own eyes welling up with tears and he followed her into the hallway. The yelling had woken up his mom, who was standing at the threshold of her door, but she didn't say anything.

"I don't have to be fair," Wendy scoffed, continuing to walk and completely ignoring him, "you certainly weren't," she was squeezing the handle of her suitcase with so much force her knuckles were white as she rushed down the stairs, Vin hot in her heels.

"Wendy, please, don't-"

"Don't you ever-" Wendy turned around, furious, tears streaming down all over again and shoving a finger in his naked chest, "dare come close to me again. Ever. You broke my fucking heart, Vince."

"Please stay," he grabbed her hand, pressing it to him, "please. Let's just talk about this."

"ARE YOU NOT LISTENING TO ME!?" this time she screamed out in frustration, causing a scene at the front door, and shoving him back, "never again."

Before he could say anything, which he couldn't because now Vince was full on crying, Wendy turned back around and walked as fast as she could to her car, throwing her suitcase in the backseat and slamming the door, driving off.

[ashwhowrites]

If you are taking angst prompts still maybe a mix of 3 and 5 with Steve? Maybe Steve has been flirting with the reader and there are definitely feelings there between them but another pretty face catches his attention and suddenly the flirting with this new pretty face?

Can end angsty or fluffy though! Dealers choice

I will gladly write this for you! My plan is to write it and see which ending flows to me better. I hope you like it! If it is not what you wanted, please let me know I will rewrite it for you

Update- the ending is sad! More of a fluff to angst

It sucks. Because I want to hate you, but I can’t.”

“You made me think I actually mattered.”

Y/N and Steve have been friends ever since Robin introduced them. They just clicked and got along well. But lately, her feelings for Steve have taken a turn into a less friendly destination. His eyes were suddenly more beautiful than anything. And his smile just seemed brighter. And his hair looks much softer. And she has a feeling he feels the same. For around two weeks, they have been flirting non-stop at work and at group hangouts. He'd compliment how she looked every day, never failing to make her blush. She wasn't the most confident, but she did try to make sure her attraction to him was known. From soft touches on his arm when he made her laugh. A smile that always seemed bigger when he was around. Plus, Robin called them out for "eye-fucking during work hours." That comment turned them both red, and they stammered out excuses. But today, Y/N decided she didn't want this banter back and forth, she wanted him. She put in extra work into her appearance for work today. Her hair was styled nicely, a shiny gloss coated her lips, and she wore Steve's favorite necklace that she owed. It was impossible not to look as it hung directly between her breasts.

 As she walked in, her eyes made contact with Robin, who did not bother to hide her smirk. "Well well, it looks like someone is dressing to impress." Y/N blushed and shrugged, "I'm going to do it today, Robin." She exclaimed excitedly. Robin's smile beamed, "About time. He's in the back. Go get your man." With a big smile on her glossy lips, she ran straight into Steve. "Slow down, gorgeous." He laughed. "I want to ask you something," she said, a tad nervous. He nodded along with an encouraging smile. "Would you want to go out on a date tonight?" The silence was starting to make her sick. Her heart felt like it was going to fall out of her stomach and puke it out. But the smile that lit up Steve's face eased her worries. "I thought you'd never ask." The date was set. They were going to a carnival that the town was having for the month. She wore a long-sleeved, slightly tight shirt. A pair of ripped jeans and sneakers. Her hair was thrown up; she did not want it to blow into her wet lips all night. They were walking hand in hand around the park. Steve bought cotton candy for them to share and covered her arms in his jacket. The night was going well. They smiled, laughed, and more soft touches were shared. She was so glad she took the first step in asking him out. She wanted him for way too long. "Alright, I'm doing the most cliche moment in recent history. I am giving you a giant stuffed animal, "Steve announced as he walked up to the balloon booth. He perfected his stance and threw darts into the balloons. Hearing the satisfying pop and ring of a bell had announced to the couple he had won. "Pick your poison, gorgeous." He had a bright smile on his face. He hasn't felt this smitten in a long time, ever since Nancy. He loved this feeling. Seeing her smile grow as she pointed to the giant stuffed elephant had him swooning. The guy handed over the elephant. She turned to Steve with a glossy smile and said, "Thank you, Stevie." The nickname melted his heart. If Robin was here, she'd have a field day. His heart skipped faster as she leaned in and smashed her lips on his. He could feel both their lips stretching into smiles as they tasted each other. He could feel his lips getting wet and sticky from her gloss, but he didn't care. She pulled away with a giggle, "Sorry I kind of turned your lips pink." She went to wipe it off, but Steve's hand stopped her. "No, I will wear this proudly." It had been a few weeks since the first date, and she felt so special. He picked her up for work and brought her home. And he even got her flowers the next morning, stating how he would love to do it again sometime. She was gushing to Robin about how perfect everything had been going. They've been on three more dates and kissed many more times. By the third date, they were making out in the front seat of Steve's car in the middle of her driveway. She wanted him to ask her to be his girlfriend, and she was willing to wait however long it took. ~~~ But now, as she watched this gorgeous girl walk up to the counter asking for movie recommendations, looking like an actual model, her stomach turned sour. She didn't miss the way Steve checked her out, from her hair down to her expensive shoes. Steve gladly took her under his wing and walked her through the store. His eyes never once reached Y/N's. Her stare seemed to be burning in his head, but it was like he didn't care. He was starstruck by this new girl. She put on a fake smile and continued to help the other customers. Sadly, that wasn't the only day the girl showed up; she came every single day. Robin told her she always showed up and asked for Steve's help only. Robin was good at reading people. She knew what Steve was doing was hurting her best friend. She wanted to punch Steve in his perfect face. It was like she had just completely vanished from his life. He barely talked to her. When she called to hangout, he was busy with her. She knew she couldn't be mad at him because they weren't dating, but she felt led on. Why make it seem like she mattered to him if he was going to blow her off? Why would he kiss her if he wasn't interested in being with her? Did he just want a quick fling? She had so many questions. It has been two weeks of Steve ignoring Y/N for this new girl. She couldn't stand by and watch him flirt with this girl right in front of her, like she just didn't matter. She needed it to stop and she needed him to know he was hurting her. At the end of the shift, she walked to his car. Before she could get a word out, Steve beat her to it, "Sorry, I can't give you a ride tonight. I'm meeting Lexi at the hideout. " She felt her heart shatter right there. He finally acknowledged her just to say he was blowing her off for Lexi, again.

"I wasn't coming for a ride, Steve. I haven't gotten one from you in two weeks.” The harsh and bitter tone slipped out stronger than she wanted it to be. She didn't want to be hostile, but it was so hard. He just didn't care anymore, and that hurt.

 Steve was taken back by her tone, but before he could question it, she beat him to it. “I need to talk to you tonight at my house. I'm not taking no for an answer. Come before the hideout or after. I don't care. " And she headed to her bike and rode off to home. Steve was frozen. He had never heard her so bitter, angry, and mean before. She was always so sweet, gentle, and more. He quickly got in his car and ran home to change, then went to her place. Y/N was waiting on her bed, tears soaking into the stuffed elephant that felt more of a painful reminder now than a happy memory. Robin told her all about King Steve, but she said he changed. Now she wasn't so sure. Maybe he doesn't stay satisfied for long. Or maybe she was just the problem. A cough caused her head to whip up. There, Steve stood with a sad look in his eyes. Seeing her cry into her elephant caused his heart to hurt more than he wanted. He wanted to smile at the memory, but he had a feeling he fucked up. "Your mom let me in." He took a seat next to her and reached for her hand. It felt like a blow in the gut when she ripped it out of his reach. She threw the elephant to the floor and hugged her knees. "I want to ask you something," she started. It felt like déjà vu. She has memories of when she last said that led them to the best date of her life. A date that now felt like a painful reminder that it didn't mean anything to him. "Are you dating this Lexi girl?" She asked, and it fucking hurt to ask out loud. The fear of the answer was hanging above her head. She didn't want to reach for it, but she needed the truth. "No, I'm not. We are just hanging out. " 

"But you like her?" She took his silence as a yes. She could see the guilt swimming in his brown orbs. She sighed and tried to collect herself. "You made me think I actually mattered to you, like you really liked me. I thought we were working towards a relationship and you just hung me out to dry. " She wished she could stop crying. She hated feeling this way this weak in front of him. He had never seen her cry before, and knowing it was because of him made guilt build in his stomach. Regret filled his veins, seeing her break down, knowing there was nothing he could do to fix this. “You do matter. I do really like you. I'm sorry. I just got caught up. Please let us work this out. Just you and me. " He felt like he was begging. If he just stayed focused on her, none of this would be happening. She shook her head at his words, "No you don't, Steve. I was just the one girl who made you feel wanted. kept you warm until someone else came along. My feelings don't matter to you; my feelings aren't important to you; and you don't want to be with me. If you wanted me, you would have looked elsewhere. " It hurt to say, but it was the truth. She was smitten by him. She didn't even notice anyone else. It wasn't the same for him. "It sucks. Because I want to hate you, but I can't. " She whimpered out in between her sobs. His heart felt heavy. He collected her in his arms, letting her tears soak into his shirt. He apologized in her hair, but he knew it wasn't enough. He lost her, and he had no one to blame but himself. "Lexi is waiting for you. Goodbye, Steve. I'll see you at work. " And with that, she stood up and went into her bathroom. She needed to be alone, and she prayed when she came back he would be gone, and he was.

[yankstrash]

for juniors/seniors day!! i feel like nolan and his girl are like the mom and dad who the boys think can do no wrong, until one day someone accidentally walks in on you guys and they’re like OH MY GOD

this one was so fun to write hehe

request for the umich celly extravaganza !

Warnings: Mentions of sex

"Where's Nolan and Y/n?" Luca asked his teammates who all shrugged.

"Why?"

"Rutger threw up and wants Y/n to take care of him." Luca responded, trying to contain his laughter.

You and Nolan were like mom and dad to the whole hockey team.

You're hungry? Nolan can cook.

Need help with homework? Y/n is very smart.

Need an extra hockey lesson? Captain Moyle to the rescue.

You threw up at a party from drinking too much? Y/n will take care of you.

Luca and Rutger scavenged the party for you two, but had no luck.

"Lu, I feel like I'm gonna hurl again." Rutger slurred from behind his best friend.

"Jesus, okay let's at least go upstairs so you don't puke in front of everyone. Y/n definitely has some sort of stomach medicine in Nolans bathroom." Luca replied as the two boys headed upstairs.

Reaching Nolans room, which was typically unoccupied during parties, Luca opened the door to be met with something he could've gone his whole life without seeing.

"OH FUCK!" Luca yelled as he saw you and Nolan having sex.

"Wha-" Rutger said from behind him before he saw what was happening. "MOM! DAD! WHAT THE HELL!" He yelled.

"SHUT THE DAMN DOOR!" Nolan yelled at his younger teammates as he tried to cover you up.

"I- We- Um-" Luca stumbled over his words as he looked away from the couple in bed.

"Rut was looking for Y/n, he got sick." Luca was finally able to say.

"Aww, Rut, you okay?" You asked, searching for your shirt.

"No mom, I'm not. I puked and now I just saw you having sex with dad. SINCE WHEN DO YOU GUYS HAVE SEX?" Rutger said.

You laughed at the boys shocked expression as you dressed yourself and got out of bed to tend to Rutger, despite Nolans protests.

"Mom and dad like to have fun too, kiddo. Now, let's get you cleaned up."

[lemonlover1110]

𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

Kento Nanami

[Chapter 8] Birthday Event

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Pairing: Kento Nanami x f!Reader

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Kento is fairly nervous while he gets ready for your father’s party. He can’t believe he has to somewhat dress up to go there. He wears a white button up shirt with its sleeves rolled up, with black slacks. He’s not sure if he’s dressed right, but he hopes that you’ll tell him if he isn’t when you come pick him up.

He dropped Asami off at his mother’s house, and now he just quietly waits for you to knock on the door. He hadn’t noticed how quiet the apartment could be, and he hates it. Kento is just thinking about all that could go wrong while at your father’s party. He dreads the time he waits for you to show up, and he feels so nervous when he hears knocking on his door.

He stands up and walks to his door, opening it to find you wearing a medium length flowy black dress. You’re wearing a beautiful diamond necklace around your neck, and he’d almost notice that first if his eyes didn’t immediately go to your cleavage. He then looks up at your face and tries to smile, “Hi.”

“Hi. Are you ready?” You ask him, and he nods in response. He makes sure he has everything he needs in his pockets before he turns off the light and leaves with you. You toss him the car keys, and say, “We won’t spend too long. I can’t drink so I’m really not doing anything there.”

“Don’t you want to spend some time with your father? It is his birthday.” Kento responds, making you click your tongue. Sure, you love your father but you don’t want to spend time with the people that’ll be surrounding him for the night. You don’t want to share that with Kento though.

You get into the passenger’s seat while Kento admires the car you chose to drive tonight. A car he could never afford. He gets into the driver’s seat and looks up the house that he’s supposed to drive to tonight, a house that he’s only gone to once. Kento is glad that you said you won’t be spending too much time there, the thought of being there for too long scares him. 

He begins to drive, and neither of you talk. He’s still thinking about every possible outcome, so he speaks up, “You look really pretty by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You answer. “I tried… This is the only dress that doesn’t feel uncomfortable at this point.”

“Really? Is it time to start wearing maternity clothes?” Kento asks and you sigh.

“I’m not even in my second trimester. No. I’ve just gained a little bit of weight.” You respond. “Let’s not talk about me though, I feel like I’m gonna puke. And I know that my dad is going to announce my pregnancy to everyone.”

“Do you think he will? Isn’t that something you should be doing?” He questions, and he regrets the question the moment it leaves his lips. Of course it’s something that you should be announcing, but your father isn’t really going to care about that. “Now you’ve got me nervous.”

“They don’t know who you are. Everything will be fine.” You reassure him, even though you’re the one in need of reassurance. You’re the one pregnant. You’re the one who everyone will look at and ask if you’re excited about everything. “Are you excited to meet everyone there? Maybe you’ll find a rich old woman that can be your sugar mommy.”

“I don’t need a sugar mommy. The mother of two of my kids is super rich.” He jokes which makes you laugh. In the end he doesn’t need a sugar mommy because he has you. “I can make up something with Asami, and then we can leave.”

“I love that idea.” You answer. “The faster we get out of there, the better.”

The moment you step into the place, both of you are dreading it. You want to immediately leave, and you feel as if all eyes are on you. But they aren’t. Everyone is focused on their own thing, and you immediately search for the food since you’re so hungry. Kento follows you like a lost puppy. 

“I don’t know what the hell these twins want. One moment they’re making me puke over some food, and the next they’re craving it.” You tell Kento, and he chuckles. His cold hand goes to your shoulder to comfort you, but it startles you. “Are you cold?”

“It’s pretty cold out.” He answers. And you furrow your eyebrows as you look at him.

“We’ve been here for ten minutes, and it’s pretty warm inside.” You say. “Are you sure you’re not dying? Please don’t leave me with two babies.”

“I’m fine.” Kento assures you. He takes a deep breath. “I’m just uncomfortable with this amount of people.”

“They’re not bothering you, you’re not bothering them. It’s fine.” You answer. “We’ll be leaving soon. I’ll just greet my dad and we can go.”

“Yeah… Let’s do that then.” He replies. He knows that your dad wanted to see him, so he has to greet the man as well. Just a greeting and then leave. He can do that much. You grab his wrist while you begin to look around for your father. Kento ends up grabbing a glass of champagne, knowing that one glass won’t do anything.

“Dad.” You address him when you see him, interrupting his conversation. Your father quickly engulfs you with a hug. “Happy birthday.”

“There you are. I’ve been waiting for you. How are my grandkids?” Is what he immediately asks, and you almost sigh. But you know he’s excited about all of this. You pull away, and he also hugs Kento since he’s considered family now.

“The babies are fine.” You end up answering, and your father’s friend’s eyebrows raise. That’s when your father announces the so great news.

“She’s pregnant. Expecting twins.” He shares, and you bite your tongue. Then your father looks at Kento, “How’s my oldest grandchild?”

“Pardon?” Kento is confused by the question so you answer for him.

“Asami is fine.” You answer, even though you don’t know how she’s doing because you didn’t ask Kento about her. It makes you feel bad when you think about it, but you have a lot in your mind. “We just came here to tell you to have a great–”

“Why didn’t you bring Asami along?” Your father interrupts, and you’re taken back by the question. You blink slowly before you answer,

“This party is not suitable for kids, dad. She would not have fun with anyone here and she probably wouldn’t like half of the food served.” Your father isn’t pleased with the response, but he doesn’t say anything about it. You’re right though, there are no other kids around. Next year he’ll have to change the party so he can have his grandchildren with him.

“You’re right.” He replies, and you awkwardly stand around for a minute, trying to say goodbye to him and then leave. You don’t want to spend too much time there, but he says, “Alright, let’s go.”

“Go where?” You ask, hoping that he isn’t talking to you. But he is.

“I have to brag to everyone that I’m becoming a grandfather.” He responds, and you try not to roll your eyes. Of course. You should’ve known this was going to happen. Kento is even more nervous now, gulping down the glass of champagne that he holds until it’s empty.

Kento follows behind as your father begins to approach his guests.

Your plan goes to hell and you’re stuck in your parents’ home for the rest of the night. Kento certainly isn’t happy with the outcome, but he isn’t too mad about what ended up happening. Everyone was decent, no one was horrible. He was still put on the spot because everyone knew that he was the father since he followed you around– He had no option but to follow you around or else your father would drag him around.

“Do you just want to stay here?” You ask Kento while people begin to leave. Slowly the place is being cleaned up, and Kento is too tired to drive. He isn’t sure if he’s even allowed to stay here, so he asks,

“Can I?” He questions and you chuckle before nodding.

“I mean, I have a room here. You already knocked me up. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to stay here?” You respond, and he can’t help but think of what an amazing point you’ve made. So he accepts staying the night because he doesn’t want to drive all the way home, and he doubts that you want to drive to your place afterwards. 

There’s still a few more guests that you two get past, and you go upstairs. He follows you because he’s bound to get lost if it were to just wander around. The place is huge. When he gets to your room, he’s in shock once again because it’s bigger than his apartment.

It’s clear to him that you moved out when you were a teenager because this room does not look like it would belong to your adult self. It’s very organized and clean though, which lets him know that this room is cleaned weekly at the very least. 

“I’ll ask my dad if you can borrow some pajamas from him. I don’t know if they’ll fit you though.” You share as you look through the dresser’s cabinets, looking for some pajamas that’ll fit you.

“I can just sleep in my underwear, if that’s fine with you.” He tells you, and when you pick a nightgown, which reveals a bottle. You pick it up and read the label, slowly walking toward your bed. Kento notices it and asks, “What’s that?”

“Apparently I was sneaking alcohol. I don’t remember stealing this.” You say as you hand Kento the old bottle of wine and take a seat on your bed. He examines the bottle before saying,

“Do you want to open this up?” He questions and you click your tongue.

“Kento, I’m pregnant.” You have to remind him. “You can open it up though.”

“Hmm… Do you have anything I can open it up with?” He asks and you shake your head. You wait for a moment before you stand up from the bed and begin to walk towards the door. 

“I’ll get you something though, wait here.” You say before you walk out of the room, and Kento sits still. It’s not like he had plans to go anywhere else. He does stand up and look around the room though. He’s inclined to look at the photos that you have. 

It’s nothing too extraordinary, he just sees some pictures with some old friends, pictures from when you were growing up. Nothing that showed boyfriends or anything of that sort. He’s trying to imagine the twins and how they’ll look like, but he’s realizing that he knows nothing about you. He doesn’t know about your interests, what you did growing up, what you even majored in university. He almost feels bad because he put a stop to it.

He comes across one particular photo, and you’re no older than four. He smiles at the photo, and he hopes that if one of the twins is a girl, she’ll end up looking so adorable like that. He walks back to the bed and takes a seat. His eyes widen, realizing the wine is nearly as old as him. He’s wondering around how expensive the bottle is, but he decides it’s best to not think about it or else he’ll feel guilty drinking the wine.

“I got it! And some snacks.” You walk back with the corkscrew and toss it to Kento, which isn’t exactly safe but he catches it and doesn’t get any type of injury. 

“Did you bring up–” He begins but he doesn’t see you holding a glass of wine. In the end, it’s fine. He’ll drink straight from the bottle. He’s not going to drink all that much, although he should take the opportunity. He’s not driving and he doesn’t have to take care of his daughter. “How many people are down there?”

“Hmm… Probably like a dozen people left. Apart from the people that are starting to clean up.” You answer, as he unscrews the bottle. He brings the bottle up to his lips, and he feels awkward because he should be passing the bottle to you, but he can’t. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to change.”

You walk to the bathroom with your nightgown in hand, and Kento almost says that you can change here, you’ve already done worse things. But you still want your privacy, which is understandable. He puts the bottle down on your nightstand and begins to unbutton his shirt because he’ll be going to bed soon. It’s past midnight and he’s tired. 

His shirt is almost off and there’s a knock on the door, making his eyes widen. Before he can say anything, the door opens, which makes the knocking a warning. Your father walks in and finds Kento sitting on your bed. 

“I wasn’t interrupting something–” Your father begins but he doesn’t notice you. So he knows he wasn’t interrupting anything. “She told me you’d be staying the night. Do you want to borrow some clothes?”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Kento responds, and as he says that, you walk out of the bathroom. You quickly notice your father and you immediately say,

“There was nothing happening.” It’s what you decide to say because you notice Kento’s unbuttoned shirt. Your father chuckles.

“I figured when there was no one with him.” Your father begins to close the door. “And as long as I get more grandchildren.”

Kento waits for the door to close and for a minute to pass before he says, “Are you going to break it to him that you’re not raising the twins?”

“He’ll kill me.” You answer, taking a seat next to him. He raises his brows before he grabs the bottle and begins to gulp down the drink. You look at his shirt and decide to finish unbuttoning the shirt. He puts the bottle back down, and he finds you staring him down. He loves the way you look at him; it boosts his ego. Before your brain is able to decide for you, your hands go behind his neck and you pull him into the kiss.

He melts into the kiss without even thinking twice about it. You look so hot even while wearing just your pajamas, he’s not passing up on this. Your tongue enters his mouth and presses against his, while one hand goes down and feels his body. He’s getting closer to you, while one hand goes to your thigh and goes under your nightgown. 

The pregnancy hormones are getting the best of you. You wouldn’t have even thought about sleeping with him again after he decided to end things, but your body wants him and you can’t stop yourself. When he pulls away and begins to kiss down your neck is when you begin to think about how Kento is seeing someone and you know how awful it feels to get cheated on so you speak,

“Should we be doing this?” You ask, making him stop. He pulls away and looks at you, his conscience a bit hazy. Maybe he had a little too much to drink.

“Why shouldn’t we? We’re already having two babies.” Kento responds.

“Aren’t you seeing someone?” You bring up and he awkwardly looks around, trying to think of what to say.

“We aren’t official so it’s not cheating.” He answers. You think about it. You wouldn’t want to be in her shoes. But then again, you aren’t in her shoes.

“Alright…” You hesitantly respond before your lips land on his again, which leads to the beginning of a very long and eventful night.

🏷 @witchofoe @cactustattoo @kamikat @snottykitty-blog @r3nii11 @fushiguros-eyelashes @ur-mums-side @uhremmi @thisbicc @mykyoon @lysol1201 @rumi-rants @mimizsworld @hyperfixationsporfavor @levismainbabe @charismaya @blinkingsuns @erenputurchildreninsideme @noticemeakusenpai @attackonsimpp @yeosxxx @kurookinnie @thatbitchsstuff-blog @lilith412426 @ddostoyevskyy @shaquille-oatmeals-world @mangalind @wifeofgeto @puddingbasyi @fragmentedstarlight @4lch3mist

[macravishedbymactavish]

Always Attract (Logan Walker x Reader)

TW: Mentions of alcohol and intoxication, otherwise more unedited chaos :D

Blog HQ

Keegester: Bring your boyfriend home before someone else does

You felt your eyebrows shoot up at the text, wondering how much trouble your sweet boyfriend had gotten himself into during their night out.

Give me 10 minutes, I'm on my way. Don't let him leave with anyone, he'll be too shy to leave in the morning.

You walked in, smiling as you saw Logan sitting happily sandwiched between Keegan and Merrick. You realized as you approached that this seating arrangement was keeping your boyfriend in place as the other two enjoyed their beers and soft conversation.

"He's been making a killing tonight" Merrick joked, sliding you a small stack of dollar bills as Logan hummed. Eyes closed as his head was leaned against the older man's shoulder. "We made sure it remained PG though". You stifled a laugh as your boyfriend happily nodded, eyes still closed and head perched on Merrick's shoulder.

Walking around behind the men, you slipped your one arm over Logan's shoulder, pulling him slightly back into you. Pouting softly as he tensed up with a sour look on his face.

"No freebies" he mumbled. Pulling himself forward and leaning against the bar. Keegan and Merrick howling with laughter as you sighed to yourself and grabbed Logans shoulder. "No freebies. I know my worth" he mumbled again, jerking away from you.

"I know your worth too Logan, now let's go home" you sighed, running your hand along his arm.

"Ma'am." He gasped, turning around to look you in the eye "how forward, I'm flattered but no". You watched as he focused on you, as his features softened into a small smile. "Love. You're here" you felt hands on your waist as he leaned his head against your chest.

"To take you home babes. Before one of your spectators beats me to it" you hummed, pressing a loving kiss against his hair.

"One of them has been buying all my drinks tonight, I could get them to pay for yours too" he looked up at you, chin against your front as he wore a proud, lopsided smirk.

"As tempting as that sounds, we could also go home." You wagered, gauging Logans reaction before continuing. "Change into pj's, curl up in bed and watch a movie on Netflix. How's that sound?" You regretted your wording the moment you saw his eyes light up, not with passion. But with a fire started by arson.

"Netflix and chi-" you slapped your hand over his mouth, giving him a stern look as you heard his muffled giggles and hiccups. You chanced a look at Keegan and Merrick, who were clearly highly amused by his antics. You shot Keegan a pleading look, hoping that since Logan looked up to him that maybe he'd convince the boy to go home.

"You're cut off kid, go home." Keegan chuckled, patting Logan's shoulder a couple of times before shoving him forward off the stool and further into your embrace.

"Lame" Your boyfriend mumbled, mouth still covered. He shifted, standing up straight as he (begrudgingly) followed you out to the vehicle. "Don't tell them, but I'm really happy I'm finally going home" Logan attempted to whisper as the two of you left . Clearly not realizing he was speaking at his normal volume.

"I won't say anything, but let's go get some sleep" you nodded along.

--

"Are you sure we can't do anything? I love you, I want you" placing a bottle of water and painkillers on the nightstand you rolled your eyes.

"I said we could cuddle and watch Netflix. Not fuck and then watch the credits. Now take your clothes off and change into this" you threw the pair of sweatpants at your still very intoxicated, very dressed boyfriend.

"You're giving me mixed messages" he complained, but started fighting to get his shirt off, getting about halfway before stopping. "I might puke". You nudged the garbage can closer to his side of the bed -- planning this out before you left to pick him up. Strategically placed garbage cans and bucket throughout the house.

"Then it's clearly time for sleep Lo" you rubbed your hand lightly across his now exposed lower back. Smiling at how he leaned into the touch slightly, before standing up to finish changing. Once he managed himself into his sweatpants, you flipped the blanket back, ushering him into the bed.

"Don't leave me, I love you so much. You're too good to me" he pouted, watching as you pulled the blanket back over him.

"I'm not leaving, I'm going to brush my teeth really quick then be right back" You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead before walking into the bathroom, quickly getting ready for sleep and cuddles with your extra loving boyfriend.

As you expected, Logan was out cold when you returned. One arm sprawled over your side of the bed as he laid on his stomach. You quietly slipped in beside him, smiling wide as you felt yourself be pulled flush against his body.

" 'm gonna marry you someday" you heard a sleepy, drunken whisper from behind you, before feeling a kiss pressed to your hair and a face nuzzle into your neck.

Bonus:

Keegster: Is he alive?

Ha, barely. Currently curled up in the bathtub with a bucket and crackers.

Keegster: He forgot his tips from last night. Merrick said he can't have them until he comes back to base on Monday

Isn't that big training op on Monday? With everyone under mandatory attendance?

Merrick: Exactly.

Taglist: (thank you beautiful soul for wanting to be part of this ❤️), @bloodonmyhands-1221