#He's simply never considered himself and being hitched in the same idea since he was a tiny triangle

[tswwwit]

Are Portal Au Dipper and Bill going to "marry" eventually or are they going to be stuck at the boyfriend phase forever? Not that it makes that big of a difference but it's still interesting to know. If they do marry, is it an accident or on purpose?

They might! It's totally possible for them both to be perfectly happy being long-term boyfriends.

But if a marriage thing happens, it's gonna be on purpose.

And it would have to be Bill who proposes.

Dipper, as a human, would think of it first - socialization and all - but he wouldn't mention a Really Big Step forward that, in his mind, isn't something demons do. He's still on shaky ground when it comes to the whole 'does he really like me though' thing! As far as he knows, Bill could be confused by the very concept! Or disgusted, or disinterested, laugh at him for being such an idiot. Or worse, do it just to placate Dipper. Not because he wanted to. Just to shut his human up. No matter how interesting the idea sounds, it's clearly off the table.

Catch this man giving longing glances at the rings on someone else's hand, and telling himself he doesn't want that. He can't want that. He's got a great thing going. Everything's better than he imagined already, he should - Just be happy with what he has, damn it.

[yandere-sins]

"Stop fucking looking at me like that!"

Referencing this post I made, I thought why not :’D

»»———————— ♡ ————————««        

Rummaging through the big chest, Enderman supplied it with the new items he gathered. Meat, vegetables, a potion for the worst case. Buckets of water and milk, everything you needed to have as a human. It should be enough to last at least for the upcoming weak, but you had been complaining about it rotting and molding since you couldn’t eat it fast enough or preserve it. You were also craving fruits. Biting his lip, he thought hard about how to accommodate your wishes better when he suddenly heard the growling of a zombie nearby, making him come to an immediate stop.

If he was quiet enough, the zombie shouldn’t be able to make you out inside this little, sparely filled room he created. No one said it would be easy to accumulate enough obsidian to build this hut. Still, it was the only way to keep you safe, even if it took him forever. All these monsters and treacherous villagers outside were after you, and even if he was able to keep them at bay for a long time, what if one day he couldn’t be around to keep you from harm? Perhaps it wasn’t a very pretty domicile, but it was safe. The only light source was one window, but he built it high enough so no zombie, skeleton, or creeper would be able to look through it. He collected a bed for you, chests, and books from the village, but that was all there was to keep you busy.

Enderman listened intently, waiting for the footsteps and grunts to disappear before he could let out a sigh of relief. Even with all the precautions he made, one could never be too safe. Even if he wasn’t worried about himself, if it was for you, he’d do everything to keep you far away from the dangerous mobs roaming the world. Continuing to pack your chest with edibles, he didn’t notice you slowly waking up, rising behind him. Enderman made a point out of coming at night rather than day to avoid the one thing that made him uncomfortable. While he would have loved interacting with you, the human custom of keeping eye contact was something he could never bear to endure. Not even for you.

Even now, your eyes drilling into his back, he began to shake anxiously, hoping you’d recognize him and go back to sleep.

But you didn’t.

You never did.

“It’s late,” he chuckled nervously, slowly closing the lid of the chest before standing up. He had to raise the ceiling quite a bit after realizing he couldn’t fit the space after he built it. Even if he could teleport in and out at his leisure, with his size, it would have been hard to stay with you in an emergency had he kept it at his first draft. But he learned that humans quite liked high ceilings, and secretly he hoped that meant you liked him too, considering his size.

“You should be sleeping. I brought new food, so you can rest assured.”

Was he just talking to overcome the awkwardness? You’ve been nearly killing him with this silent treating of yours, only ever looking at the back of his head. It was unfathomable why you’d treat him with such disrespect. He had voiced his discomfort more than once, but you insisted that you hated his treatment of you, and as such, he’d have to endure the same. But how could you? All of this was only ever in your best interest. Out there, you’d have done the same to keep safe - build a home and gathered food - so why did you hate it when he did it? Wasn’t he good to you? Didn’t he try his best to fulfill all your wishes? Was it too much to ask for that you were safe under his care?

“Please stop,” he whispered with clenched teeth, the shaking of his body getting stronger. “What more do I need to do to make you stop looking at me like that?”

“Let me go,” you finally spoke up, the sound of your voice almost as beautiful as he remembered it--no, even better! A quiet gasp escaped him after finally receiving a word from you, and he turned around for the first time in forever to face you.

A big mistake.

Your eyes met as Enderman suddenly felt overcome with a wave of emotions. He wished it had been only positive ones, but there was no way he could escape his instincts. Doubling over in pain, he grunted, trying to keep himself under control, but to no avail. Even in his state, he could clearly perceive the shuffling of blankets as you got up, noticing the state he was in. Though he wanted to believe you cared for him, it was clear you were merely concerned about what to do if something happened to him. But that would be enough. Even if you just liked him for his use, it would be enough to satisfy him. As long as he could keep you safe, you could use him as much as he wanted.

The obsidian made no sound as he gripped you by the wrists, slamming you into the wall. Your body, on the other hand, made an absolutely horrifying crack, so much so, Enderman feared the worst already. But one look at your eyes showed them clear as day, still very much able to perceive him. Perhaps adrenaline soothed your pain momentarily.

“Stop fucking looking at me like that! I told you so many times to fucking stop! When will you listen?!”

His yell filled the whole space around you two. If he hadn’t been seething with anger, he’d have instantly regretted raising his voice. No less because it could have attracted unwanted visitors. Enderman had never lashed out at you before, never done anything that would put you into the opposite of what he wanted - danger. But here he was, eyes falling to your mouth as your breath hitched, unable to form a word. All you did - finally! - was looking down and away from him before pinching your eyelids close tightly.

Immediately, he felt much calmer, now that you weren’t drilling holes into him anymore. Regaining his senses, he let go of you, letting you plummet back onto the bed he held you above. Whether or not you were in pain wasn’t something either of you seemed to notice. Instead, you were quick to hug yourself, fearful tears rolling from the closed corners of your eyes despite no sobs escaping you. You had no weapons to defend yourself, and a punch didn’t do as much as one of his did to you. It must have been a big shock for you to see the other side of Enderman, one you had a hard time comprehending.

Placing his hand on your shoulder, you flinched noticeably before finally breaking down into crying, collapsing forward onto the mattress. Enderman stood there lost for words or actions to console you, wanting to say something, apologize even! It didn’t matter who’s fault it was, he never wanted to see you hurt or crying! That’s why he did all of this after all!

Instead, he remembered the peculiar thing he found in one of the villages. It was a banner, something he thought you might enjoy hanging up in your tiny home, but when he reached for it now, he had a different idea of what to do with it. Ripping off the bottom wasn’t easy even for him, especially since he allowed no tools or scissors in this safe space. But once he had it, he returned to your side, kneeling next to your bed and lifting your head gently. You tried to turn your face away, but he had a tight grip on you, nudging you to face him. Good as you were, you kept your eyes closed still.

Even if he couldn’t be sure how to do it, he loosely tied the cloth around your head, covering your eyes with it. “W-What…?” you stuttered meekly, feeling the fabric on your skin, and Enderman hushed you gently. “This will do. You won’t be able to look at me this way. You’ll never need to be afraid anymore; this will keep you safe, I promise.”

Whether his assurance went through to you, he couldn’t decide, unable to read your expression as you bit your lip. Your body began to shake again, and it felt almost like his whenever you made him uncomfortable and anxious. Enderman knew this feeling all too well, but you wouldn’t need to bear it alone. He could if he had to, but he wouldn’t let you go through these complicated feelings alone.

Easily, with inhuman strength, he picked you up, sitting down where you had been just seconds ago, and lifted you into his lap. Finally, his big body and long arms were good for something, even if he hadn’t expected it would be comforting you. If it was for him, you two could have continued the relationship you had. Enderman would have simply stayed by your side while you slept, brushing the hair out of your face and pulling up the blanket over you to make sure you had a good rest. You didn’t need to recognize his efforts, and you could even scream at him if you’d prefer that, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He knew you were safe and well-taken care of, and he’d never forget you needed him. That was enough.

But now that he held you in his arms, he wasn’t sure if it was enough for him anymore.

Now that this awful habit of looking at him had been prevented, nothing was stopping him from being close to you. Now he could touch you, hold you, comfort you tenderly! All without fearing what might happen. “It’s going to be alright now,” he hushed you sweetly. “I’m so sorry I lashed out, I will do everything to make it up to you! I’ll bring new books and flowers to decorate with soon, everything will be okay. You can always rely on me; I’ll keep you company from now on, trust me!”

He meant it. Even if he didn’t understand most of the complicated feelings you had, you must have felt relieved as you started to cry even more. And so was he. He was relieved too. Who knew being with you so close, holding you, and swaying back and forth with you felt so wonderful. The only other time he held you, felt your warmth and heartbeat, had been when he teleported you inside of this room. Enderman had always believed that to be the height of all emotions, but he now realized there was so much more! So many more opportunities and feelings to explore. But you had time, right? He wouldn’t be greedy; he’d take his time to explore them all with you and enjoy them thoroughly.

After all, you were safest with him.

And he was the happiest with you.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk​ who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys. 

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable. 

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party. 

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that. 

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now. 

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought. 

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!" 

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening. 

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?" 

More cheers, more hollers. 

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!" 

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day. 

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse. 

Again—you fucking hate frat boys. 

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst. 

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer. 

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt. 

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team. 

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!" 

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hell no!" 

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike." 

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving." 

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed. 

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?" 

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.  

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly." 

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer. 

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little. 

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?" 

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along. 

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though. 

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?" 

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.  

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer." 

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers. 

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in. 

He does, and you let out a breath of relief. 

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?" 

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?" 

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you." 

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs. 

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue. 

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?" 

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself." 

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon. 

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip. 

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice. 

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach. 

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum. 

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!" 

"Ayyy, waterfall!" 

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced. 

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch. 

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up." 

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game. 

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards. 

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace. 

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup. 

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you. 

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely. 

*

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you. 

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before. 

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team? 

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you. 

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out. 

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult. 

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt  Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes. 

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses. 

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way. 

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls. 

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you. 

*

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc. 

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover. 

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall. 

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster. 

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him. 

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them. 

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it. 

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms. 

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees. 

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested. 

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins. 

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?” 

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away. 

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him. 

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave. 

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning. 

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you. 

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too. 

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was. 

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips. 

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble. 

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere. 

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out. 

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb. 

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper. 

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind. 

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind. 

“Holy—” 

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs. 

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass. 

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately. 

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress. 

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan. 

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you. 

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it. 

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed. 

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to. 

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door. 

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

*

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias. 

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again. 

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot. 

Is still hot. 

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong. 

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner. 

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits. 

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face. 

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you. 

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago. 

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head. 

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick. 

God dammit, why is he so sexy? 

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so... 

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body. 

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face. 

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted. 

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip. 

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock. 

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat. 

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion. 

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth. 

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue. 

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you. 

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward. 

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot. 

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit. 

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to. 

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine. 

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts. 

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight." 

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you. 

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed. 

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach. 

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression. 

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support. 

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot. 

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?" 

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee." 

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out. 

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side. 

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth. 

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

*

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like. 

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?" 

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!" 

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together. 

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave. 

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it. 

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove. 

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?" 

And, there's that point. 

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request. 

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea. 

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times. 

But, it needs to stop. 

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth. 

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer. 

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call. 

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven. 

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it. 

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them. 

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious. 

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before. 

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods. 

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated. 

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself. 

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee. 

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much. 

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully. 

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?" 

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?" 

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?" 

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to. 

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point. 

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you. 

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie. 

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?" 

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal." 

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?" 

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended. 

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards. 

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day." 

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face. 

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias." 

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick. 

"You have any classes?" You ask. 

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place. 

"Sucks," is all you can come up with. 

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?" 

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself. 

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'. 

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?" 

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals. 

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it. 

"God dammit." 

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear. 

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to." 

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan. 

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole. 

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane. 

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name. 

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit. 

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air. 

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess. 

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat. 

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate. 

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

[jisungsmochi]

the summer ball - haechan

the summer ball - lee haechan

genre: royalty!au, childhood friends to crushes to lovers <3 (intended female reader)

word count: 1.6k

summary: the summer ball was approaching, prompting prince haechan to think to himself: what a perfect time to confess to the girl who has never left my mind since i’ve met her! will he succeed in his quest for love?

request for: @tyongf-sunflower99 (i hope i put the right amount of fluff you wanted HAHAH)

//

visiting your best friend’s palace was on your agenda for this saturday morning. something about the fresh air and sunny atmosphere had you excited to meet with him once again. it was difficult to find time to meet, considering the distance between your two palaces, but nevertheless, your friendship could withstand anything. haechan was always a present figure in your life. from the moment you both were born, you were already destined to be friends, whether you liked it or not. thankfully, you got along well with the loud boy. at times he irritated you with his constant teasing and jokes, but for the most part, he was a wonderful companion. he never expected you to do all the things normal ‘princesses your age’ should be doing. instead, he’d let you rough house with him and his friends, accompany you to archery lessons and so on. it was easy to feel comfortable with him. but you were often worried that you only had him to consider as a friend. of course you had many acquaintances that sufficed your basic needs for socialisation, but haechan was the only one you felt truly understood you.

once the doors to his palace came into view, all your worries seemed to have washed away. you became instantly

jittery, your hands couldn’t keep still. you followed your guards closely as they led you into the grand building. you had a small skip in your step once you reached the main courtyard. haechan was smiling widely, waving at you cheerfully. you signalled to your guards that you were now in safe hands, asking for them to disperse. once they followed your orders, you practically ran to the boy, encompassing him in a warm embrace.

“missed me that much huh?” he chuckled, squeezing you a little tighter.

“on the contrary, prince haechan, seems like you missed me more” you giggled softly before pulling away.

“i cant argue with that, princess” although you knew he was just abiding by honourifics, the way he said it made you swoon.

“so how have things been around here? seems like an eternity had gone by since my last visit” you ask as he walks beside you along the trail that outlines the courtyard. you both kept your hands behind your backs, soaking up the glorious sunlight shining down of the pair of you.

“well, father has been immensely worn out due to the upcoming summer ball, he isn’t too pleased that we are hosting it this year” you nodded, understanding where he was coming from. your family had hosted the summer ball last year, you remembered how stressed your parents were, it truly brought more bad than it did good.

“that’s awful to hear, i’m sure he will plan the most extravagant ball we’ve had yet! this palace is amazing, it’s so perfect for a ball, oh how i can’t wait to dance all night in your grand ballroom!” you internally squeal, running the thoughts through your mind. haechan on the other hand couldn’t keep his eyes off you. he always yearned for eye contact when speaking to anyone, especially you. he thought you had some of the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, but he could never tell you so. he would be too embarrassed, even the thought of complimenting your looks had him shuddering in fear. fear that you wouldn’t take it well, considering your friendly status with one another.

“ah princess y/n, it’s wonderful to see you again!” haechan’s mother greeted you warmly as you both entered the foyer of the palace.

“lovely to see you, your majesty” you now politely, meeting her warm gaze.

“i assume haechan has brought up the summer ball with you? are you planning on bringing a date?” she asks curiously. you knew it was a playful question, but you couldn’t contain how badly you wanted to go with haechan.

“o-oh no i haven’t put much thought to it yet, i will soon” you nod slowly, avoiding her eyes. haechan stood beside you, finding the interaction quite amusing. his mother excused herself, leaving the pair of you alone once again.

“god you still don’t know how to talk to my mother?” he teased, gently tapping you with his shoulder. you shook your head in embarrassment,

“it’s not her! it’s the question she asked. i didn’t know we had to bring dates? is that a new rule?” you questioned, watching as haechan raised his eyebrows.

“i think she was simply curious if you were perhaps dating somebody, or considering dating somebody” he shrugged,

“where would she get that idea?”

“well you didn’t hear from me, but i eavesdropped on a conversation between my parents and yours. they think it’s a good time for us to begin exploring potential life companions” he explains, catching you off guard. he looks around cautiously before guiding you to his parent’s study.

“but haechan, i don’t think i’m ready for marriage yet, there’s so much more i have to learn about myself” you begin to grow nervous, your best friend sensed it, leaning in closer to you. your breath hitched as his nose almost touched yours,

“me neither, just know that you’ll be my first choice” his words took you off guard.

“pardon?”

“if my parents were to choose my future partner, i hope it would be you” he smiled softly, feeling heat rise to his cheeks at his own words. you too, began feeling warm, partially due to his words but also due to how close he was to you.

“i-i would want the same” you softly whispered back, earning a relieved look from the boy. he pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back as he softly swayed you in his arms.

“princess, would you do me the pleasure of attending the ball with me?” he slowly pulled away from you, hands resting on your forearms. you nodded enthusiastically,

“of course, i wouldn’t have it any other way”

//

the day of the summer ball came rolling by in no time. you had arrived in your carriage with your parents. they too, were beyond ecstatic to be in attendance. haechan’s parents sure knew how to plan such a grand event, it would be the talk of the town for the next few months. your eyes scanned for the prince that would be accompanying you. his eyes met yours as you walked into the foyer of the palace, he greeted your parents politely before asking them to take you off their hands. they immediately complied, adoring the friendship between you both.

“you look astonishing tonight, princess. i should have dressed up more” haechan smirked slightly, offering his arm to link with yours. you smoothly slipped your arm with his,

“thankyou, haechan. you look as handsome as ever, maybe even more than usual” he was at a loss for words, you had never made such advances on him before.

“princess, you shouldn’t say such rash things, my heart may burst” you giggled at his words, shaking your head gently.

“care to dance, your highness?” you practically dragged him to the dance floor. your hands wrapping around the back of his neck as his hands found their place on your waist.

“thank you for accompanying me. it means the world to be spending such a wonderful evening with an amazing woman like yourself” you looked away as he spoke, feeling his eyes gloss over you.

“prince haechan, please stop saying these things to me if your intention is to simply remain being my friend” his eyebrows furrow,

“i’m not saying these things as your friend. i-“ he stops momentarily,

“i think you’re the most beautiful thing in my life. i always look forward to seeing you, something inside me feels like it will burst once you come into my view. the way you carry yourself is admirable. the way you can start a conversation with almost anybody you meet, everything you do, makes my heart beat out of my chest” at this point, you had stopped dancing with him. as everyone was twirling and swaying, you remained still. was this real life?

“i hope i’m not coming on too strong, but i feel something between us. and one day, in the future, i would love for you to be my partner, because, i love you” you felt your heart stop. haechan moves his hand to cup the right side of your face. you had never seen so much concern and fear on his face.

“haechan” you whispered, linking his fingers with yours as you led him away from the dance floor. you found seclusion in his parent’s study, your fingers remaining intertwined.

“you have impressed me beyond my expectations. your confession has come as a surprise to me. when i think of my future, i see you. right by my side. i see us running around in our own courtyard, with our children. i see a lifetime full of smiles and laughter with you. what i want to say is, i-i love you too” his face immediately lightened up, his grip on your hand tightened as he tried to contain himself.

“princess, you have just made me the happiest man on this earth” he wrapped you in his arms, lifting you off your feet for a moment. you squealed at the feeling, gently tapping his shoulders for him to put you down.

“m-may i kiss you?” you lean in closer to him as he let you down, his hands now moving to cup both your cheeks. he didn’t bother answering, placing his soft lips onto your own, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he continued kissing you.

“i’ll never forget this night” he mumbled between kisses as you pulled him into you again.

“so when are we going to tell our parents?” you question as he stops kissing you.

“let’s discuss that another time, i just want you to kiss me again” haechan smirked, continuing what you started.

the summer ball was surely the event of the year.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Road Not Taken (one-shot)

Part of the Stray Wolves Series

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Language, Lots of dirty talk, breeding kink, mentions of knotting, heavy degradation...basically, this is pure filth (but only at the end)

Word Count: 5.5 K

Genre: Werewolf AU; Marriage AU

Summary: It’s true that Bang Chan, the legendary pack alpha of the Stray Wolves, had never felt the need to take a mate until he met Y/N, the much-younger she-wolf who stole his heart. As the pack alpha’s mate, there are certain expectations that she must meet in her position, but she’s still learning while also getting into trouble with her close friends Seungmin and Jeongin. 

Honestly speaking, the concept of mates and mating had never held any influence over me until the day I officially presented as an Omega. Suddenly, the idea of growing old with someone while taking care of our pups seemed like a scenario that I desperately needed in my life. Consequently, it consumed all of my dreams involving the future, but I still didn’t expect a proposal from my pack alpha whose dimpled smile made me feel incredibly special.

For starters, Chan was much older than me, and he was friends with my older brother, Jisung, who was caught off-guard by our sudden romance. You see, Chan became pack alpha after our last leader formally retired, and he had been serving in his place for many years. It was always customary for the pack alpha to find a mate, but Chan didn’t seem to favor the traditional approach. In fact, many of my pack members thought that he would never find a mate.

At least, until Chan approached me one morning after the two of us spent the day hunting together, which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Despite being Jisung’s friend, Chan and I were fairly close, and I liked spending time with him because he never saw me as a younger member who still needed time to mature. And maybe I was young and reckless, but Chan never treated me like I was something to coddle, even if his overprotective instincts occasionally intervened.

When I officially mated with Chan, the entire pack was shocked. It seemed somewhat scandalous considering our age-gap and the numerous women who Chan had passed on throughout his tenure as alpha. But Chan had never concerned himself with the opinions of others, and he simply brought me into his life like I had always belonged next to his side.

It was an enormous responsibility, and I was still learning how to properly navigate the complexities of my responsibilities as pack Luna, especially in consideration of my age. But I wanted to do my best for Chan since he was giving me everything that I wanted, and, for the most part, I stayed on my best behavior for him, even if it was sometimes hard to resist the occasional moment of mischief. Especially when my friends Seungmin and Jeongin were involved, and they were a big part of the reason why our little trio had been deemed the pack’s troublemakers.

Maybe that’s why Chan always hesitated whenever I brought them up in conversation, and I carefully studied my mate from the warmth of our bed as dressed himself in regular clothes. “What are your plans, love?” he asked while busying himself with the buttons on his shirt.

“I don’t know,” I answered mindlessly. “I’ll probably just spend the day with Seungmin and Jeongin.”

Chan grimaced at the mention of their names, adjusting the leather strap of his belt as he considered me with dark eyes. “Just be careful,” he said, approaching the bedside to lean down and inhale deeply against my neck. 

“I’m not a kid,” I grumbled against his touch, squirming around on the mattress.

“I know you’re not,” Chan said, smirking when he pulled back. “But it’s my job to worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry all the time,” I protested, but Chan’s smile was still warm as he left our shared bedroom, and I waited until I could hear the sound of the front door closing before jumping out of bed.

When I was barely of age to leave my mother’s side, I met Seungmin and Jeongin by accident. Apparently, the younger two pups had formed a formiddable alliance, and they always did their best to push the limits of their mother’s patience. They were brothers by blood, but they were also best friends, and I never thought that I would find a place in their dynamic.

However, when we met for the very first time, I found out that Seungmin and Jeongin shared a lot of the same mischievous nature that often resulted in my mother apologizing to the older wolves who complained when I disrupted their frequent slumber. Because of our natural inclinations for mischief, I found myself joining the brothers as we wrecked havoc and mayhem on our other pack members who were certainly not impressed by our hijinks.

I’m sure my past behavior contributed to my pack’s hesitance when Chan accepted me as his mate. After all, they would be expected to show the pack Luna respect, but that was hardly feasible considering who I liked to keep in close company. Initially, Chan had tried to discourage our meetings by forcing Jeongin and Seungmin to join as many hunting and border patrols as he could manage. But we still found ways to see one another, and I think Chan gradually decided that he couldn’t stop the inevitable, even if his most recent warning to the brothers had forced them to reconsider some of our more impressive pranks...

“Are you sure about this?”

There was a slight note of trepidation in Seungmin’s tone, and it matched the look of insecurity on his face as we stood outside of the abandoned house in the woods. It was fabled among our pack’s younger members to be haunted, and some of the elder had warned us that it was strictly off-limits which, of course, stoked my curiosity. So, I scoffed at his hesitation because both Seungmin and Jeongin had been excited to talk about visiting the house last night. Yet, confronted with the real thing, they were both suddenly the world’s biggest cowards.

“Come on, guys, we all want to know what’s inside,” I said, reaching back for Seungmin’s hand. 

“Yeah, but if it’s something bad...” Jeongin trailed off, and his eyes widened with a sudden realization. “What if Chan finds out?”

“He’ll never know,” I assured him. “Let’s just go inside and look around.”

I started forward without an ounce of hesitation, walking up the front steps of the house’s porch with confidence. I could also hear Seungmin and Jeongin following me from behind, and I took that as a good sign that my friends has refused to feel intimidated by my alpha’s attempts to ruin our fun. After all, what’s the worst that could happen in an abandoned house?

With this in mind, I reached out to open the front door, and it was unsurprising when I found it unlocked, allowing it to fall back against the hinges. The inside of the house was musty and old, and there was a foul smell in the air like the house was hiding something that was slowly rotting away. Whatever it was, I nearly gagged around the smell as it assaulted by sensitive nose, looking back over at Seungmin and Jeongin who both wore matching expressions of disgust.

“Where is that coming from?” Seungmin asked, and I allowed him to take the lead as we walked into the first room.

It appeared to be some form of kitchen, and I could identify dozens of places that might generate such a foul-smelling stench. “This place is disgusting,” Jeongin said. 

“What did you expect?” I snorted. 

“It’s really cold too,” Jeongin remarked, and I startled when I realized that he was right, and that was a bit strange considering the weather outside.

Nevertheless, I continued my exploration of the house, leaving the kitchen and approaching some of the rooms at the back of the house. I heard Jeongin and Seungmin laughing at something in the kitchen, but I paid them no mind as I opened the door to the first room.

It wasn’t anything special, but there was a bed in the middle of the floor and a closet near the heavily boarded-up window. I exhaled slowly, walking across the creaking floorboards as I noticed something strangely familiar tickling my senses. My wolf was suddenly on high-alert, and I was trying to look for anything that might be triggering the hair-raising response to whatever I was smelling that was right on the edge of my consciousness...

“Y/N!”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, spinning around on my heel at the sound of Jeongin’s high-pitched shrill. “Hey!” I shouted, leaving the bedroom door wide open as I retraced my steps to the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“Y/N.” Seungmin’s voice was hushed, and the two boys were standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a defensive posture. I stood on my toes to look over them, and I felt my breath hitch at the back of my throat because standing at the entrance to the kitchen was a man. But I knew immediately that he wasn’t just an ordinary human who happened upon the house...

“Vampire,” I whispered, but not like our neighbors who lived in the mountains. These were rogue vampires who had been cast aside, and they were left without the necessary vampire bonds and fresh sources of blood required to sustain them. It certainly explained the metallic smell that had been all over that bedroom, and it provided justification for the lack of sunlight penetrating the inside. 

This vampire was in the late stages of decay, and his blood-red eyes revealed that he was in no mood for our playful adventure. In fact, I could detect the hunger in his gaze, and I reached for Seungmin’s arm because I knew that we were in trouble.

“We need to get outside,” Jeongin said, and I nodded in response. 

Because this vampire would not last in the sun, and it was our only possible form of salvation since there was no fighting a desperate vampire. 

“Start walking the other way,” Seungmin said, and the three of us started to back up carefully, keeping the vampire in our line of sight as we tried for another means of escape.

However, I had taken no more than a couple of steps backwards when I felt another cold blast hit me from behind. I immediately stopped, and it caught Seungmin’s attention. He turned around to confront me, but his eyes widened and I knew that he had found the source of that chilly presence.

There was more than one vampire in this house. 

“We’ll have to fight,” I said, and Jeongin whimpered at the idea.

“Stay close,” Seungmin said, and we formed a protective circle as the Vampires started to approach, fangs bared and with sinister snarls interrupting the quiet of the kitchen.

I held my breath, waiting for the right opportunity to shift, when I heard Seungmin let out a warning growl, and I realized too late that the first vampire had launched himself at my friends. Our circle was broken, and I nearly lost my balance at the force thrown against me from behind. Yet, it also created the perfect opportunity for the second Vampire who quickly took advantage of the distraction. 

I fell to the ground hard, groaning at the pain jolting through my shoulder from the impact. But I was given no time to consider my injuries as my adrenaline kicked in and affected all of my concentration. It was enough to take my mind away from the fall, but not enough to muster an offensive strike. I was left playing defense with a rabid Vampire who knew that I was much weaker on my own. 

I whimpered as the Vampire stood over me, teeth glinting menacingly as he hissed in my direction. I closed my eyes at the harsh sound, ready to accept my fate at the hands of the cruel Vampire, when a familiar howl broke through the haze of fear and confusion. And I realized with a barely-restrained gasp that an enormous jet-black wolf had suddenly attacked the Vampire, saving my life. I took a moment to catch my breath before using the counter to help myself stand up again, looking around the room at my pack members fighting the Vampires who had almost successful in their campaign.

I winced when I realized that the familiar jet-black wolf was my mate, and he was savage in his assault. Yet, at the same time, I realized that Chan was not inflicting much damage to the Vampire - almost like he didn’t want to harm it. I was puzzled by the consideration, but a quick tug on my arm alerted me to Changbin, our pack Beta, who was yelling at me to join the others outside.

I immediately obeyed his order, trying to avoid the Vampires and Werewolves engaged in heavy conflict, noticing that more Vampires had somehow joined the attack. But the escalating situation was left behind for the much-needed sunlight, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I found Seungmin and Jeongin unharmed. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” I said, allowing them to wrap their arms around me in familiar embrace.

“Y/N,” Seungmin said, looking at me with concerned eyes. “The house is protected by King Felix. It’s meant to provide a place for rogue Vampires to die in peace.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of the Vampire King who Chan had tried so hard to maintain good relations. “What have we done?” I asked, turning around at the sound of an all-too familiar voice.

Of course it was Chan, walking with our pack members as they diligently followed their alpha. He was talking to an older Vampire, one who I had never noticed before, and she was positively enraged as she practically screamed in my mate’s face. Apparently, the situation had evolved into something that held far more consequences, and I had never felt so ashamed.

When Chan came closer, I shivered at the rage in his eyes, and I refused to meet his gaze when he pulled me behind him. “We’ll talk later,” he growled, reminding me of the intimidating alpha who was feared throughout the neighboring packs.

“King Felix marked these lands as neutral,” the older Vampire said. “And you agreed.”

Chan stepped forward, keeping his hands behind his back as he addressed the elderly woman who sneered at my pack mates. “I’m sorry for their intrusion,” Chan said, bowing low at the waist. “It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not,” the old woman said. “You should train your pups to behave.”

I could feel myself blushing at being categorized as a pup when, as the pack alpha’s mate, I was expected to be one of the most mature members. It had a chastening effect, and I cowered behind Chan with my wolf’s tail metaphorically caught between my legs. Surely, everyone else in the pack would find out about our misadventure, and if they thought the same thing as this older vampire...

I shivered, resisting the urge to whine and lean into Chan’s familiar weight.

“They’ll be disciplined,” Chan reassured the vampire, glancing at me from the corner of his eye with a look that screamed punishment. 

“I’ll let this go since it’s your first infraction and my vampires weren’t harmed,” she said. “But if I catch any of your wolves out here again...”

She closed her eyes as if she wanted to control her latent rage. But Chan understood the inherent warning. “The agreement was made for everyone’s protection,” Chan said. “This is the last time you will see wolves here.”

The older vampire snorted before retreating inside the house, and I tried not to whine when Chan took a firm hold of my arm, pulling me along next to him as we returned to camp for the evening.

The pack alpha’s cabin was located strategically at the back of our defined camp where Chan and I could find privacy together. I usually savored the distance from my pack mates, but I was feeling increasingly wary following my embarrassing blunder with the rogue vampires. The idea of spending unsolicited time alone with Chan was suddenly an intimidating prospect. 

Still, it wasn’t in my nature to avoid my mistakes, and I followed Chan inside our shared cabin. He paused at the entrance to remove his shoes before heading in the direction of our bedroom, and I quickly followed his lead. Even as my wolf cautioned us to approach carefully, I didn’t want to exhibit that kind of behavior around Chan because it would only contribute to my immature image.

“Hey,” Chan finally addressed me, standing in front of our dresser. “Sit down.”

I held my tongue, eliminating the few steps to the edge of our bed where I deposited myself on top of the mattress. My weight sunk down into the foamy material, and I supported myself back on my arms, waiting for Chan to speak again. In the meantime, I fought the desire to try and explain myself since I knew that speaking out of term would only infuriate my older mate.

“What did your mother teach you about Vampires?” Chan asked. “Or, did you not pay attention?”

I flinched at his cruel tone. “She told me they were our enemies and that I should avoid them.”

“Did she?” Chan questioned. “Because your actions suggest that you ignored that lesson.”

“I’m sorry, Chan,” I said, deciding that, instead of justifying my bad behavior, I should try and appeal to him instead.

“I don’t really think you are,” Chan scoffed, looking at me from over his shoulder. “In fact, I’m wondering if you were even serious when you agreed to be my mate.”

I shuddered at his claim. “How can you say that? I love you, Chan.”

“You can love me and still be unprepared for the responsibilities of pack Luna,” Chan said. “Otherwise, you would think twice before putting yourself in situations where you could send a bad example to the rest of our pack.”

“I’m ready,” I insisted. “I want to be a good mate for you.”

“Then you better start proving that those aren’t just empty promises,” Chan growled, and I was thoroughly unprepared for his sharp tone. “What if you had gotten hurt? Those rogues weren’t able to control themselves, and you put yourself and your friends in danger.”

“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt,” I said. “It was a mistake.”

“I’m so glad you realize that,” Chan said with heavy sarcasm. “Why didn’t that cross your mind before taunting a group of vampires?” 

“We didn’t know that there were vampires in the house!”

“Have you lost the ability to smell?” Chan snapped. “Why didn’t you take precautions?”

“I-I guess we weren’t thinking about that,” I said, stumbling over my answers to his difficult questions.

Chan sighed, turning around to look at me before his eyes grew darker, and I found myself on the receiving end of an approaching alpha with malicious intent. Instinctively, I crawled backwards on the bed, colliding against the headboard while Chan closed the distance between us, looming over top of me with one hand wrapping itself around my throat. It wasn’t enough to cause harm, but to send a message:  “One second,” Chan said. “That’s all they need to snap this pretty neck.”

I swallowed hard, and I could feel my throat constricting from his powerful grip. “Channie,” I whispered. “You don’t know how sorry I am.”

He closed his eyes, leaning in closer to inhale sharply against my scent gland. “What if I had lost you?” 

The words sent shivers down my spine because I could feel the heavy and warm humidity of his breath coating my skin. I stiffened from my position underneath him, suddenly realizing that Chan’s concerns went beyond potential conflict with the vampires. Those rogues would likely never attack an entire pack of wolves unprovoked, but the delicate balance of life and death hung on a narrow precipice when it involved younger wolves playing foolish games. “I’m still here,” I assured him, releasing calming pheromones to alleviate the ripe smell of fear masking his usual scent.

“You can’t do these things anymore,” Chan said, lifting his head to look at me. “Do you understand?”

I nodded in response, keeping steady contact with his stormy gaze. “I’ll be better for you, Chan.”

He sighed, and there was a sudden change taking hold of his demeanor, hardening the corners of his eyes and the harsh upturn to his upper lip. The transformation was subtle, but his scent was becoming thicker, a reminder of something dominant lurking beneath Chan’s soft, curly hair and dimpled smile. I knew better than to push him in this state, so I simply bared my throat, relaxing my arms across the bed.

“Such a good bitch when she wants to be,” Chan growled, and I swallowed hard, eyelids fluttering closed when his nose pressed into my swollen scent gland. His teeth nipped the delicate flesh, and I could feel his tongue tracing the ridges of his faded mark. Chan released another warning snarl, telling me to keep still for him while he examined my body with wide, studious eyes. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve considered it intimate, but there was something that Chan wanted to prove, and he was waiting for the right opportunity.

I watched as he explored my smaller figure, hands gliding along my waist while his nose inhaled along his journey south, exciting my senses and the wolf inside of me who was impressed by her mate’s display of alpha dominance. However, I couldn’t help but think that it was embarrassing to feel his nose press into the private junction between my thighs, and I squeezed my legs around his head when his tongue attempted to lap at me through the fabric of my pants. Chan growled, lifting his head to send me a warning look, pushing open my legs to continue his exploration of the place where my scent was most prominent. 

I had no idea what Chan’s motivations were, and this unfamiliar territory was making my inner wolf increasingly desperate. However, I knew better than to question him, and perhaps it was nothing more than a display of strength meant to send me a warning against disobeying him. Whatever it was, I certainly liked the attention, even if it was difficult to fight the temptation to run my hands through his hair.

Eventually, Chan sat back on his heels, watching me through narrowed eyes. “Take off your clothes,” he said.

I squirmed on top of the mattress in pure delight, eager to please Chan since I knew that our argument was, more or less, finished, and he was clearly waiting to re-stake his claim. “Okay,” I replied, complying with his order as I unbuttoned my shirt and jeans, removing them with careful movements. Then, I let the bundle of clothes fall into the floor before I adjusted my position again, keeping my arms splayed out across the sheets.

Meanwhile, his eyes swept across my naked form before Chan’s evaluation continued, but this time he was undeterred by the barrier of my clothing, and everything felt heightened without them in place to stop him from attacking smooth flesh with his teeth. Nipping at the sensitive skin and leaving marks that would remain visible for days. 

His hands also made themselves comfortable on my hips, holding me in place while his mouth did most of the work, tasting my scent gland until I was light-headed from his efforts. When he pulled away to catch his breath, I recognized the oily residue from my scent gland painting his lips. It was an erotic sight, and my wolf howled in delight when she could smell our intermingling scents permeating the air around us.  

And I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Chan’s mouth until he reached down for the hem of his shirt, tossing it aside to reveal his sculpted torso - nothing but defined planes of hardened muscles. It was a beautiful distraction, and I didn’t even notice when his jeans disappeared next, leaving him in nothing but the boxer shorts that did very little to hide the evidence of his arousal. My mouth immediately started to water, and I could feel myself practically salivating at the prospect of his thick cock hiding beneath a layer of fabric.

“You have a beautiful body,” Chan said, and I beamed at his compliment. My smile didn’t last, however, when he ghosted his tongue over one of my nipples, staring up at me from a curtain of long lashes. I watched his hands as they reached out to squeeze my breasts, testing their weight with a heavy groan. “They’ll be even bigger full of milk for our pups.” 

I inhaled sharply at the mention of pups because every instinct desired nothing more than to breed with my mate. It was a result of centuries of survival genes embedded within our DNA, and our inner wolves wanted to pass them onto our children for the next generation. For most werewolf couples, they always wanted the same thing, and Chan had only spoken to me briefly about having pups in the future. But Chan was responding to his alpha’s natural inclination to breed his mate, and he growled at the back of his throat, tugging on my nipple with his fingers while his tongue prodded at the hardened peak. 

“It hurts,” I whined, even though I was aroused by his practiced tongue attempting to soothe the harsh sting of his sharpened canines.

Chan glanced up at me before pulling away to survey his work, nodding in satisfaction before moving down my body once again. I could never predict his next movement, and I gasped when he started to nose against my pubic bone, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. This time, he could inhale my scent straight from the source, and it didn’t take long for his tongue to lick a long stripe against my slit. 

Immediately, I arched my back in response to the pleasurable sensation, closing my eyes as his hands tightened their grip on my hips and forced his tongue inside my pussy, eating me out like he couldn’t get enough of my taste. I whined at his aggression, and more of my juices collected down the inside of my thighs. Chan purred when he realized, and he slurped loudly around my clitoris, bringing the engorged bud between his teeth. 

I wrapped my fingers through his hair, making a mess of whatever style he had attempted. But it only made Chan look even more appealing, and he rumbled deep in his chest as he chased after my taste, lapping at my juices as if trying to consume every last drop. “Y/N,” Chan said, and his voice was husky and guttural.

“It feels so good,” I said, and Chan hummed around me, supporting himself higher on his arms so that I could moan at the sight of the wetness surrounding his mouth. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” Chan requested. 

I nodded, turning onto my side and trying my best to support my upper body on thin arms and trembling legs. I wasn’t surprised by Chan’s request because the position was the ultimate sign of submission, and it was most often used during heats and ruts since it was best for breeding. The thought had me shivering, dropping my head against the pillows as I felt one of Chan’s hands run down the smooth expanse of my back.

I jerked forward when he landed a quick slap to my ass, and I let him mount me, legs caging my thighs between his stronger ones, moaning when the fat head of his cock brushed against my ass. His actions were incredibly rough, and I could smell his thick alpha scent as it clouded the air with a cloying mixture of fresh pine and something much darker. But I was also surprised by my body’s compliance, allowing Chan to press against my lower back and force me into an arch. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, and I hummed in acknowledgment, groaning when he slid in without resistance, and my pussy swallowed his cock greedily, desperate to milk him of everything that he had to offer me. “What a tight pussy,” he commented, forcing himself inside the rest of the way with a slight hint of desperation. 

I moaned when I realized that he was completely buried inside my wet heat, and I could practically feel the tip of his cock against the head of my cervix. There was nothing comparable to the feeling of fullness weighing heavily on my lower body, and I curled my fingers into the sheets to stop myself from rutting back against his cock. “Chan,” I said, shaking my head as tears started to form.

“Be patient, Y/N,” Chan said, and he pulled his hips back so that just the tip of his cock remained before slamming back inside with an unprecedented amount of force. I was completely unprepared because my legs weren’t strong enough to hold me up against his vicious thrust, and I fell forward against the bed - turning my head to the side to breath as Chan continued his rapid thrusts inside of my pussy. 

“Is this what you want?” Chan growled, nipping at the back of my neck. “Do you want me to stuff you full of pups?” I whined at his words, even if I knew that it was impossible outside of my regular heats. “You’d look so good after I bred you,” Chan said, pumping his hips faster as if he was trying to make that idea a reality. “Like a good little bitch.”

I cried at his filthy language, burying my face further into the mattress as I let Chan do whatever he wanted to me, moving me along his cock like I was just a warm hole for him to use whenever the moment was convenient. “Oh god,” I whispered as he switched angles, hitting my g-spot perfectly on every upward thrust.

“Maybe if you’re swollen with my pups, you won’t get into any more trouble,” Chan snarled, and I whimpered when his hand smoothed across my lower body as if imagining the swell of my bloated stomach.

“Please,” I said, reaching down for his hand to move it closer to my clitoris, encouraging Chan to touch me while he continued to pound into me over and over again, pushing his cock deep inside to the point where I could imagine feeling him at the back of my throat.

It was an abrupt descent from there, and he continued to stimulate my g-spot and clitoris perfectly because he knew my body so well after all this time together. Still, my orgasm hit me like a freight train, and I nearly screamed at the intensity, noticing stars along the edges of my vision. There was no strength left in my body, and I collapsed into a pile of heavy limbs while Chan continued to chase his own orgasm, growling when his knot started to swell in place. I whimpered, closing my eyes because it was starting to overstimulate my exhausted body, but Chan held me in place and sighed as he filled me with his cum.

For a moment thereafter, I was convinced that I would pass out, but I was able to control my breathing and steady my accelerating heart rate, feeling Chan fall onto the bed next to me. “Hold still,” Chan rumbled, adjusting my leg over his hip as he pulled me tighter against his chest, fingers petting over the place where his knot was securely stuffed inside my sore cunt. 

“Channie,” I whined, and it was a pathetic sound resulting from the steady feeling of his cum pulsing from his engorged length and the harsh way that he handled me, like he could fix me into any position that he desired.

“Are you gonna cause me any more trouble?” Chan growled directly into my ear, and my inner wolf howled at our predicament. There was no better way for Chan to assert his dominance - locking me onto his knot in submission, and lowering the regular pitch of his voice.

“No,” I managed, stuttering around a broken moan when Chan started to grind his hips, stimulating my throbbing clitoris to the point where it actually began to feel painful.

“Maybe I should just knot you all the time like this,” Chan said. “Then you can’t wander off without telling me.”

I gasped at the suggestion, turning my head to the side to expose my neck to him. It was a vulnerable position, but it pleased Chan who started heavily scenting the mark he had left on me - a permanent reminder that I belonged to him.

It was also a visible reminder of my place in the pack, and I was determined to stand proudly next to Chan’s side.

[buckyownsmylife]

Black and white - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry is a vampire and he’s been trying to keep you safe by distancing himself. 

Warnings: vampire!Henry AU, blood, smut 

A/N: this was requested by anon waaaay back in october 😅 It’s finally here!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The bell rang as another customer entered the shop, but I was too busy jotting down the books Miss Gayle was buying that it took me a minute to raise my head to greet them. When I did, I immediately wished I’d just ignored the sound, despite the fact that it was both absolutely impolite and completely out of character for me.

Nonetheless, it was done, and I scrambled to replace the smile that had fallen from my face at the sight of Henry with another one, albeit a visibly plastic replacement. It was nothing like the ones I usually greeted my customers with, and by the way Henry flinched and Miss Gayle raised an eyebrow, it was easy to see that I was in no way comfortable with the new arrival.

“I’ll be with you in a second,” I barely acknowledged him, turning back to the nice old lady who had kept her weekly visits to my shop ever since I first opened it. It was times like these where I’d wish I actually had people working for me. “That’ll be 35 dollars, Miss Gayle. Do you want a receipt?”

Eyebrows still raised, she simply fished two twenties before handing them to me, just as I handed her a five back. She always tried to leave me with some sort of tip, but I’d known her well enough by now to be able to anticipate her antics.

“You’re impossible, dear,” she’d always tease me, to which I’d laugh heartily. The only difference was that today, after our usual banter, she chanced a glance at Henry, who was trying to pretend to be busy while looking at some bookcases, before turning back to me. “Give him a chance. He clearly cares about you, and you need someone to do so, so you don’t end up like me, all alone with only this store to keep you company.”

The unrequested advice took me by surprise, and I froze in my spot, staring back at her with her receipt still in my hand. It was only when she reached out to take it from me that I snapped out of it, hopefully blinking my confusion away from my face.

It wouldn’t be the first time I seriously considered the possibility that Miss Gayle was actually a witch. 

“I think you’re misreading the situation, Miss Gayle. But don’t worry, if it’s any consolation, so have I.” She frowned at my words, undoubtedly pondering over what I could possibly mean, but I tried to keep a smile on my face as I walked her to the door. Any excuse to keep myself away from the man waiting for my attention.

When the bell rang again, signaling her leaving, I sighed, trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever the hell was about to happen. But before I could even turn around to face him, Henry’s voice cut through my whirlwind of thoughts, declaring, “She’s right, you know that?”

I hummed halfheartedly, not wanting to turn around and deal with this, but knowing it was better to get on with it already. “Right about what? About you caring for me? I don’t doubt that, Henry, but I also don’t think I was wrong in what I told her. I clearly misread whatever it was we had going on, because I thought you had taken me out on a date and I thought you had been too nervous to take the first step and kiss me goodnight, so for the first time in my life I gathered enough courage to initiate a kiss, only to be rudely pushed away before you disappeared for days.”

It all came out in one jumbled speech, my need to get those feelings out making me run over the words while I tried to get through this to save me the embarrassment of having to relive that night again. It was all I’d thought about for days, and just when I was finally about to get over it, he just had to waltz back into my shop and throw me on a loop again.

“Look, I don’t mind that you don’t reciprocate my feelings and I don’t mind that I made a fool of myself that night. Did it suck? Yes. A lot. But what really hurt was the fact that that stupid risk I decided to take was miscalculated, because even if I considered the idea of you not reciprocating my feelings, I never thought you would simply allow it to destroy what I considered to be a good and strong friendship. Because that’s how I saw you, first and foremost. As a friend.”

I took a long breath as I finally averted my eyes from him, trying to force myself not to cry in front of this man and become even more pathetic to the one person who I wanted to impress more than anyone else in my life. God, this crush was going to destroy me, just how weak was I?

I didn’t really expect any sort of response from him. What could he say after all of that? Still, it took me by surprise when he interrupted my string of self-deprecating thoughts. “I don’t want to be a friend.”

My heart started to pound inside my chest, my eyes suddenly meeting his again. As much as the sick part of my mind wanted to tell me that he was saying he didn’t want to have any association with me anymore - he did avoid me for three days, after all - rationally, it was clear that he meant something else entirely.

Henry’s P.O.V.

  I watched her eyes grow bigger, her breathing becoming more laboured. I could hear her blood pumping more rapidly on her veins, calling out to me, but for the first time since we met, it was easy for me to ignore it. I didn’t want to lose her, in any shape or form. All of my attention was focused on her and her reactions, because I needed her to believe in me.

“You weren’t wrong. It was a date, or at least I wanted it to be a date. And I did chicken out when it came to kiss you goodnight, but it wasn’t for the reason that you’re thinking.” She was frowning, clearly trying to understand what I was hiding, but this wasn’t the time or the place. “Give me another chance,” I whispered, reaching out for her hand when I heard the bell over the door of her bookstore ringing again, signaling the arrival of another customer. “Go out with me tonight. I promise that I’ll explain everything.”

Her brows furrowed deeply, I knew she was having a hard time deciding to trust me again, to put her heart on the line once more. And I hated myself for putting her in such a situation. I hated that I’d wrecked her self-esteem, made her doubt my feelings for her.

Which was why I knew that I was making the right choice by fighting to stay in her life.

“Okay,” came her answer finally, yet not at all in a firm tone. It broke my heart, but I understood. “Come and pick me up after I close the store. I’ll be waiting.” And with a simple nod, she dismissed me until later.

Fair enough. I knew she had things to do and that she needed time to go over the repercussions of what I had just admitted, but a part of me was scared that being apart would simply make her second guess her decision. Still, I needed to respect it. I owed her at least that. So I left her to her own devices, trusting that when I got back to the store she would really be there for me to pick her up.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I spent the rest of the day unable to concentrate on my work activities. Everything I did, my mind brought me back to Henry and those two very pungent moments when I was with him. The night of our “date” and this morning.

My gut told me I hadn’t made a mistake in accepting his request for an explanation. Even during those days apart, I knew there was a reason for his behavior, I just… I knew it. I couldn’t explain it, especially since we didn’t even know each other for that long. But it was the same thing that made me trust him implicitly. The same feeling in the depths of my soul that recognized him somehow, that made me start to fall for him during long conversations over coffee in my bookshop.

Still, my mind begged me to run away, to protect myself. I didn’t need to go through this again. Nothing stopped him from rejecting me again - in fact, that was very likely to happen. Doesn’t love work out just like… 1% of the time? 

Just when I was starting to freak myself out, I heard my name being uttered from behind me, making me jump in the air. “God, make a noise or something,” I complained, a hand over my heart as I turned around to find him clearly trying very hard not to laugh at me. 

“Sorry.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I simply noted, “You don’t look sorry at all.” He wanted to laugh again, I knew that, but he didn’t. Instead, his eyes became peculiarly soft as he pondered over what to say. “You’re right, I’m not sorry. You look really cute when you’re scared. Can I kiss you now?” 

I should say no. Right? I should totally say no. But I had been crushing on this guy for the last few months and in that second, all I seemed to be able to do was to nod, my breath hitching when he approached to cradle my entire face with his huge hands. God, he was so beautiful, even more from up close. 

But just when the distance between our lips was about to become nonexistent, just when all I could hear was the blood in my veins being pumped on maximum speed due to the way my heart was pounding in my chest, he hesitated, breaking the spell.

“We shouldn’t,” he whispered almost against my mouth, so close that I could feel his cold breath on my face. “I shouldn’t.” I couldn’t really call it a clarification, since it only left me more confused.

Even worse, it awakened that awful, burning feeling of humiliation, that reignited the fires of embarrassment deep within my stomach. “Why do you do this to me?” His eyes grew big at the realization of my anger, like somehow, he didn’t expect it at all. 

“Did you come here only to break me further? I can’t handle this, Henry. I don’t need this. Please, leave.” For a second, I thought he would, but I don’t know why. Nothing in his demeanor betrayed that would be his intention. If anything, it was the precise opposite. As the concern disappeared from his face, his expression solidified in a hardened mask that showed just how serious he was about whatever it was that he needed to say.

Henry’s P.O.V.

“No. I’m not leaving. Not until you hear what I have to say. Please.” I could see the hesitation on her, and I knew it was deserved. I deserved it. I knew it just as well as I knew that I didn’t deserve her. 

But she did deserve an explanation, and I was going to give her that. And if she could find it in herself to still want me in her life, maybe we could be something more. God knows how much I actually wanted to kiss her.

“Not here,” I implored, needing her to give me just a little bit more of her time. “Can I please join you in your home?”

It took some time, but at last, she nodded, making sure the door of the bookshop was properly locked before silently making her way down the street, taking the path that I had followed so many times before, when I’d accompany her on her trajectory after work. But back then the air was lighter, there was chatter and laughter between us. Now, it felt cold, even colder than my skin.

Thankfully, we were by her house before long. She looked over her shoulder before moving to unlock the door, like she wanted to make sure I was still there. There was absolutely no way I’d leave her hanging like that again, especially since she had found it in her to continuously give me another chance.

“Thank you,” I peeped when she invited me in, quickly assuming the seat she pointed me to. I was even more thankful for the fact that she still chose to sit by my side on the sofa, instead of pulling a chair to keep some space between us. Maybe she liked to be in a close proximity to me just as much as I did with her.

“I… don’t know where to start,” I began, suddenly self-conscious and doubting everything I’d decided on my way here again. But then she shrugged, and the realization that I was about to lose her before I even had her was enough to get me to suddenly blurt out, “I’m a vampire.”

At first, there was no reaction at all. She remained seemingly unfazed, arms crossed in front of her chest, expression thoroughly unreadable. I would be sweating if I could, but as it were, I just started babbling even more. 

“Please, don’t be afraid. I’d never hurt you. I promise. But that’s why I’ve been keeping away, I… I feel so attracted to you, but I couldn’t let you fall for me without knowing who I truly am. And this is who I truly am. Still me. Just a little bit older than you thought.” Still no answer, until suddenly she cut the silence that had fallen in the living room with a long drawn-out breath, before exclaiming, “I’m not afraid.”

That was literally the last thing I thought she would say immediately after I admitted my secret.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“You… You’re not afraid of me?” He repeated, clearly not believing what I had just said.

“No.” After a few seconds of silence, he ended up cutting the tension in the room with a request.

“Then tell me what you’re thinking.” As bizarre as the situation was and as confused as my feelings for Henry were at the moment, I couldn’t help but to joke, “What, you can’t read my mind?”

He pursed his lips, clearly unamused but at the same time relieved that I wasn’t angry or afraid of him. I took a deep breath, still looking him dead in the eyes, before admitting, “I’m thinking… that I really want to fuck you.”

That caught him by surprise.

“You want me?” I had to huff, rolling my eyes at his stupidity. How could someone be this unaware of social queues? Or, better yet, of his own attractiveness?

“Yes, I want you. And I’m done holding myself back from getting what I want.” And with that, I climbed on his lap, tugging him down to meet my lips by the collar of his shirt. He was cold, colder than he should be, but I don’t think I would have noticed if I didn’t know who - or actually, what - he was.

He tasted like mint, and a little bit like coffee. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t something this ordinary. And I especially wasn’t expecting to like it so much. But suddenly, he grasped my hips, stopping my unconscious slow grind against his crotch. “I’m not sure you’ve completely understood what this means,” he started, and I had to laugh. 

“You drink blood, right? What else is there to understand? I like you, Henry. I’m not gonna suddenly stop liking you over something like this. Now please, can you kiss me? I’ve been waiting for this for so long...” I don’t know if it was my words or my pouty face, but something made him grab me with a new vigor that had me screaming in excitement.

“I knew you were perfect for me,” he whispered as he rubbed his nose on my cheek, making me giggle with delight. The absolute sweetness of the statement had my heart skipping a beat momentarily.

“Then kiss me, you idiot.” Thankfully, he did just so. And although I could still feel his restraint, I now understood what it meant - and it was so much easier to deal with when I had his lips to distract me. 

When I had to pull apart to catch my breath, he kept his mouth on my skin, slowly tracing a path from my jaw down to my throat, and when he got to my jugular, he stopped, simply inhaling while I felt his mouth water on top of it. “You ever wonder what I taste like?” I teased, running my hand through his curls, and he pulled away to look me in the eyes, first in concern and then in lust.

Henry’s P.O.V.

“All the fucking time.” Instead of being afraid, the little mixen bit on the lower lip I wished I still had between my own teeth, before remarking, “That’s kinky.” It had me roaring with laughter until I felt the need to attack her mouth with mine again.

“I’ll show you kinky.” After she had to separate from me to catch her breath once more, I traced the path her blood followed down her neck until the neckline of her dress, before softly pulling the sleeves down on each side so I could lave her collarbone and shoulders with my tongue, too.

“Do you want a taste?” She whispered, the question making me freeze for a second, my fingers pressing even tighter in the soft skin of her hips. I could feel her heartbeat under them. She was so… alive. Perhaps that’s why she made me feel like that, too.

“I couldn’t possibly ask you for that.”

“You’re not asking.” I tried to find something, anything in her eyes that showed me a sign of humour, but there was nothing. She was honestly doing this. I hesitated for a while, until she used the grip she had on my curls to pull me down against her neck, that she exposed even more to me by throwing her head back. “Please.”

My eyes trailed down the curve of her shoulder as I felt my fangs starting to grow. A swipe of my tongue over them confirmed what I already knew: they were ready. With one last look into her eyes to see if she wanted to back out, I leaned over her and pierced the neck of my beloved, sucking just enough to allow me to taste the magnificent essence that kept her alive before I retreated and lapped the few droplets that still escaped the punctures.

The sight of her breathing hard, making her breasts jump up to my face as I kept her safe in my lap was enough to get me completely hard. “Bed. Now.” That was the only warning I gave her before I rose up from the couch with her clinging to my body, legs wrapped around my back. She giggled against the kiss I stole from her lips, undoubtedly tasting a little bit of herself, before keeping on with the trend of endlessly teasing me for her own amusement.

“You know, I don’t really feel like sleeping right now.” I growled at her continuing giggles, squeezing her ass to grind her against my hardness. I wanted to know just how thoroughly fucked she’d be.

“You’re not going to sleep any time soon, darling.” Reconnecting our lips, I followed blindly in the direction of what I assumed her bedroom to be located, only stopping to let her catch her breath because she pulled away. I would have to be better at remembering that she needed that.

“You never told me what I tasted like,” she breathed out against my lips, buying herself more time to get some air into her lungs. It made me laugh, the question sounding absurd considering everything, but this is precisely what I loved about her.

“Like fucking candy, how about that?” She screamed as I dipped her back, laying her down on the mattress before climbing over her again. “I really want to know if it’s the same down there.”

She clinged to me eagerly, legs wrapping around my body as her hands made quick work of my shirt. It felt intoxicating to see just how desperate she was for me, just how she reciprocated my own desire.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The second I was laid bare for his eyes to take in, a sharp inhale resonated through the room. I could feel his eyes trailing down my body, drinking me in, and it made me dizzy with desire. “You’re so beautiful.” His voice was barely over a whisper, and still, I heard it in my very soul.

But then, a thumb was running over my lower lips, teasingly opening me up to his gaze, and I mewled at just how great it felt to be this exposed to him. “And so wet,” he added, using that same thumb to collect some of the moisture I could feel starting to drip from me and then rubbing it all over my pussy.

“What are you gonna do about it?” I asked, trying to muster all of the defiance I could find, but my body was weakened by my need for the man hovering above me - and he knew. He just knew he had reduced me to a needy, whimpering mess, and he was loving every second of it.

His thumb found my clit and he massaged it for a bit, eyes trapping mine in his hypnotizing gaze as he pondered over my question. Until, finally, there was an answer. “I want you to touch yourself.”

Okay, this wasn’t what I was hoping for. But still, I could see the hint of nervousness in his eyes, even if buried under deep layers of desire. So I was happy to oblige, my own hand slowly traveling down my body until it met his, right when he raised the thumb that had been just touching me there up to my lips.

“Open up.” My eyes fluttered shut as my mouth dropped open to accept the digit, and I eagerly swirled my tongue around it before sucking, while my own fingers slowly explored my dripping opening. I don’t know if it was the action he was getting on his thumb or if it was the vision of me dipping two fingers inside of myself and moaning around him, but in a second he had pulled both his and my hands away and had lunged himself at me.

“Eager, aren’t we?” I joked, fully enjoying that for at least this millisecond, I had the upper hand again. Henry didn’t seem to mind, if the way he licked his lips and delved to bruise mine in a breathtaking kiss was any indication of it.

“I’ve dreamed about being in your bed for so long,” he admitted, and my heart grew twice its size at the thought of him actively wishing for this, just like I’d done when I laid in this bed hundreds of nights ever since we met.

“How long has it been?” I asked, hugging his body closer to mine, already addicted to the way it felt to have his weight over me. “Ever since you’ve… done this before, I mean.” Henry chuckled, but didn’t immediately answer as he kept himself busy by littering my collarbones with kisses and lovebites, making me offer my chest up to him. When he grasped one of my breasts in his large hand, I couldn’t stop the loud moan that echoed around the room as my heart beated wildly right under his palm.

“I don’t even remember,” he finally answered, but by then, I had all but completely forgot what I’d even asked. He was slowly but surely messing with my mind and my ability to hold coherent thoughts, all I could focus on was the feeling of his cold hands running over my sweaty skin and his lips licking every inch of me. “It doesn’t even matter. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

Henry’s P.O.V.

The whine she let out was clearly a complaint and a request in itself, making me chuckle against her delicious skin. “Soon,” I promised, nearing the place I was longing to be. “I need to feel you cumming on my lips, first.”

The sigh she let out as I buried my nose on the small curls just over where her fingers had been buried made it clear that she wasn’t about to complain about my plan, at least for now. Still, I needed her to give me the time I needed to fully appreciate this, so while I caressed her thighs to allow myself the space I needed to work with, I negotiated, “I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

She didn’t seem to doubt when I stuck out my tongue and gave her a temptative first lick, immediately groaning at the incomparable sweetness and diving in for more. She gasped and wrapped her thighs around my head, like she wanted to make sure I wouldn’t leave her hanging, but I was sure I’d never leave the space between her legs again.

Sweet, so sweet and wet. I’d spent so long imagining her taste on my tongue, both of her blood and of her juices, and now I knew that she truly was sweet all over. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have to pretend I hadn’t tried the god’s ambrosia for the rest of my life, so I sincerely hoped this really meant she truly wanted me forever.

I lost myself to the activity of exploring her pussy with my tongue, eyes closed to better imprint the taste and the sounds she was emitting into the depths of my memory. I was so into my meal, the lapping sounds of her drenched cunt surrounding us and only adding to the powerful symphony of her moans, that when she came, covering my face in her release, I was taken by surprise.

“You know…” She started, as soon as she was able to catch a breath while I sucked the juices dripping from her. “This isn’t the type of eating I expected a vampire to be so good at.” That made me look up to meet her eyes, and the second I did so, taking in the humorous glint in them and the way she pressed her lips tightly together to contain the laughs that were certainly threatening to escape, I lost it.

“I don’t think I ever laughed so much during sex.” I nuzzled in her neck, before depositing a quick kiss on her pouty lips. Her tongue came out to lick them as soon as we parted, like she was chasing away her own taste that I knew was still present in my mouth.

“Then I don’t think you’ve been doing this the right way.” I felt her tiny hands pressing on my shoulders, and it took me a while to figure out she was trying to invert our positions. When I did get it, I allowed my torso to fall on the soft mattress by her side, hands immediately flying up to caress her body as she climbed on me.

“I want your cock in my mouth.”

I groaned as I heard those words, paired with the gentle rock of her wet cunt over my still clothed member. How could one resist such sensuous sin? But I had more pressing needs in the moment, and as I had to remind her, “The night is still young. As tempting as that is… No,  don’t look at me like that. Do you have any idea what you do to me, you little minx? I have to be inside of you now.”

Her eyes made it clear that she didn’t feel all that terrible about my denial, but still, she asked, “Later, then?” Chuckling, I brought her down to whisper in her ear, “ Believe me, we have all the time in the world. You’re not going to sleep anytime soon. I’ll keep you in this bed forever, if I have my way.”

I heard her suck in a breath and I took advantage of the brief moment of surprise that rendered her immobile to drag two fingers along her folds before curling them in. “Oh, wow. Now that is a sight.” Just the tone of perplexity in my voice had her clenching around me, and when I began to laugh yet again, she brace herself on my chest and groaned, “Are you going to fuck me or keep staring?”

I looked up to meet her eyes, making sure she was looking directly at me as I pulled my fingers out and licked them before grabbing a hold of my member and running it over her pussy. “Take a guess.”

The moment that we became fused in the corporeal sense, it became clear to me just how entwined our souls already were. There was no escaping our connection, not anymore. “Does this feel good,” I teased her as she released a particularly high moan, fingers gripping my shoulders tightly as she threw her head back and tried to keep riding me. I took this opportunity to nibble and nip at her jaw and neck, teasing myself with the feeling of her blood pumping right underneath my open mouth.

“Yes, yes,” she screamed, picking up her movements as I kept fucking myself up against her, too. “Deeper, harder, please, Henry!” The desperation in her voice had me roaring, and in a quick movement I had her under me again.

“Fuck, you feel perfect,” I whispered under my breath right when she grabbed a hold of my locks and pulled me to meet her lips again. “Are you ready?” I knew she was close by the way she was moaning, and all it took was for her eyes to meet mine so I could feel her clenching around me. “No falling asleep, remember? Or maybe you want me to keep going even if you do end up passing out.” It was just a joke, but her whine made it very clear that she didn’t mind the perspective.

“Don’t worry, angel. I’m right here. I’ll give you everything you want, I’ll be everything you need. For the rest of your life.”

“I know.”

[royalwilmon]

fic: all my life is arm in arm with you

wilhelm/simon: the world doesn't seem as overwhelming when Wilhelm has someone by his side, holding his hand through it all.

Leaving a couple of things purposely ambiguous. Namely, the when, where, and what. The focus here is on Wilhelm’s anxiety and Simon’s response - the setting and circumstances of this interaction can be whatever you imagine, or nothing at all. Content warning for a detailed description of the physicality of an anxiety attack. Note that I’m basing this on my own personal very real experiences with anxiety. The title is from “When You’ve Got Trouble” by Liz Longley. I strongly suggest you give it a listen after you read this!

[Read on AO3]

The room was getting smaller.

Or maybe it wasn’t. It was hard to tell. Wilhelm’s eyes darted from wall to wall. Each time he looked back, he could have sworn that they were closer still, inch by inch. It scared him as he thought about what might happen if the walls closed in on him completely. He began to feel claustrophobic. He could feel the lost air in the room tighten in his throat. It felt like two strong hands were reaching through the back of his chest to grip both of his lungs, firmly squeezing with increasing intensity.

Wilhelm brought a hand to his collarbone and pressed down, countering the phantom pressure with his own. Slowly he rubbed, willing the balance of forces to provide some sort of relief. When it didn’t, he pressed harder.

At the same time, Wilhelm’s breathing quickened, letting itself out of his body in erratic puffs. He tried to breathe normally, but it felt like his lungs were working independently from the rest of his body. The more he focused on trying to control it, the more he felt like each and every part of him had disconnected from the rest, unable to work together to keep him breathing.

Wilhelm hated this. He hated this too familiar physical reaction to the world around him. He hated his mind for causing it, his body for reacting, hated himself, hated this, he hated, hated, hated. The thoughts bounced around his mind, ricocheting off the edges and multiplying to create a swarm of hateful ideas. It was suffocating.

Just as he felt his knees begin to buckle, gravity tempting him to pull his body downward and collapse, he startled at a sudden touch. He felt a pair of arms snake around his middle. Warm, soft, familiar. One hand resting flat on his stomach, the other reaching up, trailing along his arm gently until the hand settled on top of his own. The hand that still pushed helplessly against his chest.

Simon.

“Wille?”

Simon’s voice was barely more than a whisper, hardly more than a breath, but it still rang clear in Wilhelm’s ears and instantly filled his body with unexpected yet comfortable warmth. Wilhelm wasn’t expecting Simon to be around. But then again, Simon always did seem to have a sort of sixth sense for knowing when Wilhelm needed him most. It was one of an infinitely growing list of things he loved and appreciated about his partner.

Wilhelm didn’t answer Simon’s greeting right away, the fullness in his throat still too sizable to allow for enough air to speak. Wilhelm instead focused himself on the feeling of a second heartbeat behind his, where Simon’s body stood flush against his own. It was slower and steadier than Wilhelm’s, keeping time with the gentle breathing he could feel warm the back of his neck.

Wilhelm then remembered something he and Simon had practiced many times before - trying to get him to match Simon’s steadier breathing. Inhale, exhale. It had been a long time since Wilhelm’s anxiety had been this bad. As he focused in and slowed his breathing - inhale, exhale - Wilhelm took a moment to be so thankful that Simon had been nearby to help him through this now. He had been doing so well for so long and wasn’t sure he was still able to handle it on his own. Inhale, exhale.

“Wille, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Simon let go of him, and for the briefest moment, the hands on Wilhelm’s lungs began to tighten again. He struggled on his inhale. Before he could exhale, Simon was there in front of him, and he reached out to pull him close in a needy embrace.

Wilhelm clung to Simon like the world would end if they did not perfectly merge their bodies together into one. He buried his head in Simon’s neck, breathing in the scent of him. Wilhelm took every opportunity to use his arms to try to pull Simon closer and closer. Simon was simply there for him, letting Wilhelm grasp at his body and offering his embrace in return. They stayed that way for some time, mostly in comfortable silence, save for when Simon would occasionally whisper Wilhelm’s name or words of comfort sweetly into his hair.

After several minutes, Simon pulled away to get a good look at Wilhelm. He reached up and held Wilhelm’s head in his hands, his fingers curling around his neck and thumbs resting gently on his jaw. Wilhelm immediately relaxed into the touch.

Simon was calm. His eyes were warm, and they were looking directly into Wilhelm’s. The only sign of distress was the slight frown on his lips. Simon brushed his thumbs across Wilhelm’s cheeks, wiping away some tears that Wilhelm hadn’t even realized he’d shed.

Simon kept on holding his gaze, not breaking eye contact even to blink. Wilhelm realized at this point that he was waiting for him to speak. Although he knew that Simon was patient and would give Wilhelm as long as was needed, he wanted Simon to understand that he was alright. Or, rather, that he would be alright soon. He closed his eyes, swallowed, took a shallow breath, and then looked back up to Simon.

“Hej.” Wilhelm’s breath hitched as he spoke, but he was glad just to have gotten sound out.

“Hej,” Simon replied easily as his frown began to turn upward. He removed one hand from Wilhelm’s face to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear. The piece of hair promptly fell right back, but Simon let it be. “How are you feeling?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Simon to ask this question at any given time on a typical day. That was one of the many things Wilhelm adored about Simon. He always wanted to be in tune with how Wilhelm was feeling. The pair had worked hard early in their relationship to make sure they communicated their emotions well enough to stay on the same page, through the good and the bad alike. The more they were able to talk about how they were feeling, the stronger their relationship became. So, Wilhelm made an effort to always answer the question as honestly as he was able.

How was he feeling? Wilhelm carefully considered the question.

Mentally, his thoughts were still racing at a rapid pace: jumping to conclusions, dwelling on the “what ifs”, fixating on the unknown. This was true of how Wilhelm’s mind functioned normally, but the anxiety amplified it tenfold. Physically, his breathing had slowed, but the pressure on his lungs still weighed down on him. His body now felt uncomfortably warm. Wilhelm felt the heat burning in his fingertips. Meanwhile, his head was so full it felt empty.

He answered. “Dizzy. A little.”

“Okay,” Simon nodded. “Okay, let’s sit you down.”

Simon pressed a kiss to Wilhelm’s cheek and then grabbed his arm and led him over to a nearby sofa. The pair sat side by side, each at an angle to face each other, knees touching. Wilhelm immediately took Simon’s hands into his own.

Wilhelm traced his fingertips against Simon’s, grateful not only to busy his hands but also to touch something so familiar to him. He knew every surface, bend, and scar on those hands by heart. Simon’s fingers were calloused from the guitar he had been picking up to practice more and more frequently as of late. These hands made music. Wilhelm loved these hands just as he loved the man they belonged to.

“Sorry, I didn’t think this would-” Wilhelm began, eyes focused on where their fingers were intertwined. Simon shook his head and interrupted him.

“No, don’t apologize, Wille.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” Wilhelm exhaled. He shifted his body to rest his head on Simon’s shoulder. He smiled. “Thank you for being here.”

“Do you want to talk about it now or later?”

Wilhelm appreciated the question. He knew it was important to talk about what triggered this intense burst of anxiety, and he absolutely would speak with Simon about it in time. Still, having the option to wait a while before starting to tackle his problems was a great comfort to him. Simon had always been great about giving Wilhelm proper space and time when he needed it.

Wilhelm answered. “Later.”

“Okay,” Simon nodded, turning his neck so he could press his lips to Wilhelm’s forehead. “What can I do for you now?”

“Just stay with me.”

“Of course,” Simon answered as if it was the only response that existed, his voice so full of certainty and assurance. Wilhelm had never felt safer.

Sometimes, the world felt too big for Wilhelm. It made him feel small when he knew that that was not what the world needed from him. There were expectations and traditions he needed to abide by that often felt difficult for Wilhelm to handle. It was then that Wilhelm started to doubt whether or not he could truly be what everybody around him wanted him to be.

It was Simon who made him feel like he was enough. Simon made him feel safe, and loved, and seen. Simon made him feel capable and strong. Knowing he had this man’s love and support made Wilhelm stronger, and Wilhelm knew he would move mountains to give it all back to him. They were a team.

The world didn’t seem as overwhelming when he had someone by his side, holding his hand through it all.

It would be okay.

He would be okay.

♫

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Moonlight

Draco x Reader One-Shot

Summary: This is based off the song ‘Moonlight’ by Ariana Grande. During the bad times of War, not everything has to be so black-and-white. Both Y/N and Draco know it just too well.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: language 

tags: @drawlfoy @eltanin-malfoy

Composing yourself had been more than a hard thing to ask for lately.

The Death Eater had finally taken Hogwarts under their control; famous Harry Potter, who was allegedly supposed to play a hero, disappeared in the depth of the unknown; the plan of escaping the school turned out to be an utter failure since the Dementors encircled and blocked every passage of absconding, escalating the disappointment over students.

Yet you hadn't thought of the plan B as an alternative solution, but you were sure, even if you managed to find one, it might take a few more months to figure things out. And you had to admit that increasing anxiety about your parents made you cry yourself to sleep at night. Despite your insistent pleads of the letters to contact you, you hadn't received any response or other sign of life ever since over two months of a constant worry.

And yet, it wasn't the worst part.

The Carrows, who unwarrantedly preferred to call themselves professors Carrows from now on, had decided to introduce their new methods of teaching everyone. And punishing for any triviality.

Once, for example, in Charms class -- which was the worst nightmare of a week -- you had been asked to stand up in front of the class and demonstrate a Crucio curse on the First Year who happened to accidentally bump into Alecto in the corridor. Obviously, you hadn't obeyed an imposed task to which Carrows only reacted with unrestrained rage. Instead of punishing the eleven-year-old boy, the lesson had turned out to be your disciplining session of torture for not being submissive enough. Although the feat had brought you more renown later on, which served to make Carrows more flustered, you still couldn't get out of the Hospital Wing for whole three days.

All of that also led your Occulumency to suffer, which was doubling the struggle. There was for sure no doubt it was an important skill to have, not only to create a mental barrier protecting yourself from uninvited intruders; but also preventing others' thoughts from leaking into your head. It was already enough of bearing the non-stopping suspense in the air. So, the idea of accumulating more emotions on your account would probably navigate to an outburst.  

One thing, however, surprised you. You had found out that people who outwardly seemed to have quite a reputation of cruel tossers were actually more decent and human than you could think. In particular, certain Draco Malfoy, who had been selected as a Head Boy in terms of this year.

Wandering around the school and doing the night patrols, he had happened to find you sitting hunched over, face buried in your knees, and sobbing brokenly at the fate the Wizarding World was faced to deal with. He had flumped next to you, without question, silently accompanying and comforting you in moments of solitude.

Two other times of your encounter had been in the library: spotting you among the crowd of students, he would come over and take a nearby place. You didn't know whether it was a matter of pride or disposition, but he had never spoken up, which you, in fact, didn't mind. At first, you had been a little bit dubious about his sudden influx of approachability. However, as to mute your suspicions down, you tried not pondering about it too much.

Funny, how the real nature of the boy who you had known for a nonchalant sneer and teasing remarks, could suddenly become so interesting and mysterious.

It was on a Thursday late that you were strolling up to The Astronomy Tower to see the Thestrals soaring in the air. Normally, it was around the time when you would be putting yourself to the bed, but too many thoughts were buzzing in your mind, and you knew it wouldn't give you much space to sleep anyways. The only optimum, instead of staring aimlessly at the ceiling and flipping from one to the other side of the mattress, was busying yourself with something else. The lack of sleep was due to nothing else than today's lesson with Carrows. They had thought up an idea of having some practice with a Confrigo spell which, rather unfortunately, was presented on a living phantom. As always, a whole hour of torments was disastrous, to say at least, and even after classes, you couldn't shake off the echo of troubled screams and beggings, which carried over the petrified room of students. That's why you were thinking you could swallow your emotions down, quietly and undisturbedly, in the only place you could wish for some private space. Besides, it was the only spot resembling the old Hogwarts you had known from the previous years, showing the calming extent of green grounds.

However to your surprise, when you pushed the door to The Astronomy Tower, noiselessly, you could notice a silhouette of a man already standing at the barrier, which made you momentarily flabbergasted suddenly considering an option of running upon a teacher. To save yourself from much too unwanted detention, you decided to change your track, rushing straight into your dormitory. But almost as you succeeded doing so, in the last moment, a person shifted in their place and spoke up before you had room to move.

"Pretty late for a casual stroll, huh?" At once, a feeling of dread ebbed away, and you exhaled deeply air you didn't know you were holding as you recognized none other than Draco with his back turned towards you. His tone was as usually taunting, but something in a timbre of sadness was hitched to it as well. "Shouldn't be sneaking out of the room on the patroling hours, you know? I'm the least of who you could come upon today."

Your dignity told you to say something in order to defend your harmless saunter to calm down your nerves, which benefited only your mental account. However, he made a point -- you could have been caught not only by some random teacher but Currows themselves who, you were inexorably aware, wouldn't let a chance of dehumanizing others slip away. And besides, you were a little too dumbstruck to speak, realizing it must be the first time Draco fucking prince Malfoy had uttered more than a word to you. What was a coincidence of meeting up with him just on the same day as you had been wondering about your atypical relationship formed within this school year?

Before your contemplation ended, Draco's voice carried on with a conversation, echoing off the walls. "Care to join? Seeing as you're already here."

Frowning to yourself at how surreal the situation can become, you stepped off the stairs with no more hesitation. You truly wouldn't have suspected the things would turn out that way -- embracing his Head Boy position, you thought he would send you off back to the Hufflepuff Tower with his dismissive attitude as it usually was. Inviting you over to company him was a top cherry you hadn't even considered. Truthfully, it made you feel a little thrilled to accept this offer.

As you walked over to him, his facial features became much sharper than from afar. Now, as you looked at him closely, you could define the contours of his face were even more angelic yet still masculine than in daily light. The platonic hair glinted accordingly to the moon above; his blue eyes were focused on a black void in the sky, clearly pondering more than concentrating on a particular object; a mouth pursed into a line, not a mocking expression he was usually carrying himself with. Eyeing him like that and still not being capable of deciphering him suggested he must be someone between a completely unemotional git or an excellent master of Occulumency. You preferred to presume the second one.

Quickly, realizing you were staring, you turned your head to behold a collection of vivid stars hovering above your head. You knew it was only in the Wizarding World that sky flickered so brightly -- your father was a muggle, and a whole family dwelled among a non-magical society, which you didn't mind at all. And that's why you were able to recognize... differences existing between those two worlds.

"Why are you here?" you asked curiously, not quite capable of restraining yourself from doing so. You were standing close enough to him to smell his sandalwood cologne.

He gave you a perfunctory smile, and although it was a three-second gesture, it somehow made you lighter on the chest to know he was convenient with a conversation. "Needed someplace to think," he explained, not darting his eyes away from where he was looking. He took a pause there. "You?"

"The same reason," you answered simply, shrugging. "My roommates can be too loud sometimes, and I needed some silence to sort out...stuff."

Draco nodded in understanding, not interfering any further into the topic. Brushing your hair habitually with fingers, you scolded yourself for coming up here in the first place. How could you act so irresponsibly to think you could smoothly break a regulations' rule and without anyone finding out? Although you were desperate to hide it, the presence of Draco made you inexplicably nervous, and even though you tried to gulp it down, your stomach was churning when he was around. Time proved his intentions weren't bad after all, and you confronted with the truth ever since he first happened to find you at the moment of your meltdown in the corridor, clutching to him as if he was your sanity. But that didn't dispel your doubts about him becoming a fully active Death Eater, who praised with a Dark Mark on the left forearm like with a reward for some kind of acrobatic stunt.

Your gaze swept briefly over the rolled-up sleeves of his snow-white shirt only to assure yourself the mark didn't disappear off his arm with some help of the power of your imagination. Yet it was still there -- as always, tinted coal-black, scary and blood-curdling every time you looked at it.

That evidently didn't escape Draco's notice who, as though reading your mind, started. "You know, I didn't want this." He didn't have to show what he meant by saying so because you instantly figured it out. You looked up at him, and almost invisibly, his skin pale as it already was, changed even to the whiter shade. "He has bait on me. All of this: assassinating Dumbledore; obeying his will -- it's not because I want that."

The sudden shock welled up at these words, and you gawked at him stupidly, not quite able to process what he had just told you. Swallowing with some difficulty, you coerced yourself to a mutter. "Why... why are you telling me this?"

For the first time this night, his steely stare landed at you, scanning your face to detect signs of emotion. You attempted to conceal it, but he could see you were thunderstruck by his unexpected confession. Without preamble, he smiled slightly at you. "I thought you ought to know."

Ignoring the clenching in your chest, you did your best to not break eye contact with Draco when his eyes were intently locked on yours now. You could swear, something on the verge of interest and sympathy flickered in them for a second. "Why?"

"Because you're the only person who doesn't freak out when I'm around," he explained carefully. "Every time I go to the library or appear in any other public place, you're the only one who doesn't glare."

He closed his eyes, clearly relived with the fact he could confide the worries he had been carrying for a long time. Breathing out through the nose and his lips flinching a little, his head spun again to the blank of the sky.

It was a depressing sight to see him in such dejection, and the images of him being cast aside by his former group of friends with who he had been laughing merely a year ago rolled into your head, try as might to suppress it. You could only imagine what it must feel like to be rejected by everyone around; to play the main role in something you never wished to participate in.

For a moment, you thought he was going to continue because he grunted enigmatically, but the silence remained. Unable to restrain the urge to offer physical comfort, you affectionately grabbed his palm, squeezing it in the reassurance that you were there for him. He didn't attempt to break himself out of the grip, which presumably was a good indication.

"I believe you," you stated, for some reason, satisfied with the fact you're the one to comfort him. "You are a good person, Draco."

This time, it was he who clasped your hand, and he glimpsed at you once more, towering over you with his long legs. "No. In the past, things happened, and to say, I'm not proud of them. Jeering, mocking, insulting -- that wasn't fa-."

"Past is a past, Draco," you cut him off, knowing where it all was leading, and you wanted to bring it to an abrupt end. It was the least adequate moment for apologies. "You can't fix it. Good that you understand your mistakes by now."

He hummed in comprehension, smiling, and his grasp tightened around your palm as if you were about to run off from him, which he couldn't be more wrong about. Admitting to yourself, you loved his smile -- though it was seldom, it much differed from a smirk you were accustomed to at that point -- and you secretly hoped he could do it more often. You also loved that even if he didn't talk much, he was very successful in lifting you up.

Therefore, there you were: standing arm-to-arm with your ex-bully who you had happened to run across; observing the moon in its full exposure; holding hands in reassurance. Both of you clearly enjoyed this gratifying moment and were lingering towards it not to end.

"Thank you," Draco finally choked out. "Thank you for...everything."

Ultimately, smashing the wall of uncertainty down, he wrapped his arms around your neck, hunching a little to adjust to your height, and buried his face in the crook of your neck. At first, your body stiffened at the sudden touch and a skip of the boundary, but as not to agitate him, you adapted yourself soon enough by reciprocating the hug. You started to rub the slow, steady circles on his back, and little by little, he began stroking your hair, softly grazing your scalp.

How long you stood clinging to each other like this, you didn't know. Hearing Draco sigh quietly, feel the rise and fall of it against your hands. Your heart sunk when you heard him breathe out, and you prepared yourself for him to mix out of the embrace because of sudden consciousness he was cuddling with a half-blood Hufflepuff he had been mocking for half of a decade ('I should get going'; 'I didn't mean what I said earlier; 'leave me be, Y/S'). But none of this happened, and he was only murmuring into your ear.

"I presume I should escort you to the dormitory. I could tell you were the whole time with me so no one would get any suspicion if we run into...anyone," he offered, yet you felt him almost grimacing at the thought of ending a moment you were two having.

"Mhm..." you agreed with no more opposition. "But let's give it one more minute."

____________

A/N: This is so typical of me to do something other than what's necessary lmao ;) The second chapter of Summer Nights is almost up if anyone interested. As I think of it now, this one-shot gives me such a vibe of Loud Places/Turn. However, I hope you enjoyed it :) Oh, and I'm explaining the sudden change of schedule with posting: 1. I'm very irresposible; 2. I got the super inspo to scribble this one-shot. Hah, sorry...

[joy1579]

self indulgent

I've been sad. so i wrote a thing to make me less sad. maybe it'll make someone else less sad too or at the very least they can laugh at my “cringe” but either way it did make me less sad so goal accomplished.

Mc and jumin organize a bookshelf jumin asks what neko girls are and MC short circuits his brain for a couple of seconds. no smut just fluff

Moving hadn’t taken long. You had opted to donate your furniture to the local homeless shelter since Jumin’s penthouse was furnished with the highest quality furniture you could dream of. Honestly most of your things paled in comparison to the lavish goods Jumin considered tawdry. Still there were a quite a few boxes you had decided to save, filled mostly with sentimental keepsakes and the few odds and ends that catered to your specific tastes. You were practically finished by noon save the three or four boxes that sat in the main room next to the larger than life bookshelves. Certainly there was plenty of room on them. You never where a fan of negative space on bookshelves but if you were being completely honest that had more to do with how many books you needed to fit in such a finite space. Jumins bookshelves had plenty of room with just enough negative space to look perfectly balanced and while you knew Jumin had told you to do whatever you wished this felt intimate. Bookshelves where holy spaces after all, housing books that change hearts and minds alike that shape the soul and … okay so maybe you just really liked books and that made them seem important to you either way this was definitely something you wanted to do with Jumin. When you heard the door rattle with Jumin homecoming you bolt towards it excited to greet him after work.

“Jumin! Welcome home!” you cried bouncing in place as he made his way inside. You smiled as you saw the creases in his brown flatten and the stress slip from shoulders when he saw you. You waited all of 5 seconds for him to close the door giving you both some privacy from the bodyguards stationed outside before you pounced, leaping upon the business man wrapping your arms around his neck. You delighted in the deep honey of his laughter as he caught your waist in kind and kissed the top of your head gently.

“darling. I’m so glad to be home. How was your day? did you get settled?” Jumin asked as you pulled yourself back slightly giving him room to loosen his tie and set aside his coat.

“everything is in its place except um Jumin there is one thing I need if you don’t mind”

“name it and its yours”

“I wanted to share your bookshelves and I was hoping that maybe you could organize the books with me?” you admitted shyly. It had seemed like such a good idea in the beginning he could show you his favorite books, walk you through his favorite plots and tell you his favorite quotes and you could do the same with him. Yet now as you presented the idea to him you worried. What if he was to tired he had worked all day after all, what if he thought you too needy, or your books to childish. what if he didn’t want your books displayed in the living room because they weren’t very pretty, all of his books where gorgeous leather bound tomes or mint condition hardcovers, yours where second hand at best many where decommissioned library books or garage sale rescues, broken in battered and bruised by years of use. It would make sense to have them put away in a back room where they couldn’t tarnish the pristine collection Jumin had on display. Perhaps you where spiraling, working yourself into a nervous frenzy in the span of a few seconds.

“nothing would make me happier love. We can call the chef to start dinner and begin emptying the shelves for rearranging while he works.” You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face or the giggle that escaped your lips. The surprise on Jumins face was evident if only for a second before it gave way to a warm sort of fondness. “had I known simple redecorating would make you this happy I would have stayed home and done it all with you” he said affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

“it’s not that I just,” you paused face flushing a bit “books are a big deal, ya know? My dad used to tell me that every book you read becomes a part of you and that you can learn more about someone by the books they love than by the words they say so I wanted to share that with you” jumins eyes where so soft and gentle in that moment you felt your breath hitch “I want to know everything about you and, and I want you to know everything about me” suddenly his lips where on yours fervent and full of passion the hand that had been in your hair now on your chin guiding you too him. The kiss was short and when you parted from him he stayed close, just a hairs breath from your face.

Jumin voice was little more than a whisper as he asked “how is it that every day I manage to fall more in love with you?” you couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss him again an all too familiar giddiness bubbling its way through your soul. You loved this man more than life itself and you knew that would never change.

 “so your ‘Encyclopedia of Fairies’ should go next to the Catherynne M Valente series so we can reference it while reading agreed?” you giggled thrilled that his collection of mythological reference books slotted together with your fae fiction so perfectly. Puzzle pieces connecting to create a masterpiece.

“yes I think that’s perfect. I can’t wait to read her interpretation of such ancient mythos. I also have ‘The World Guide to Gnomes, Fairies, Elves and Other Little People’ if you’d like to add it to that shelf” he said grinning like a child at show and tell.

“oh my goodness yes! That’s perfect and your book on Romanian vampires should be near my ‘Dracula’ and ‘vittorio’ that way that shelf over there can be dedicated to the occult, hauntings, and psychic reference books”

“that sound wonderful and takes care of all the written word but we still haven’t found a place for your comics” Jumin informed glancing toward the woefully large stack of manga you had brought.

“not comic Jumin manga and yeah I think we’re out of space though. I um I didn’t think I had that many books. Sorry” you admitted not meeting his eyes. He tilted your head up to look at him.

“there’s no need to apologize it simply means that tomorrow we can go shopping for another shelf and the next day we can organize those. I’m quite curious about ‘la petite cossette’ you said these where Japanese but that is most certainly a French title.”

“oh I actually think you’d like that one a lot it’s about a man who falls in love with a woman in a cursed portrait its actually pretty tragic in the end.”

“How interesting” he mused retrieving it from the pile of books and skimming through it “the art is truly enchanting and you said that manga has its own subculture?”

“yeah from neko girls to shonen action tropes it has its own vocabulary, history and groups of people its really fun”

“neko girls?” Jumin repeated and your eyes widened at his confusion. This was definitely something he of all people should know about! You jumped up and sprinted to the closet you had filled earlier that day with the few cosplay supplies you had. At the time it had taken nearly half your pay check but if Jumin liked them right now the purchase then would be completely justified. You put on your surprise as quickly as possible before rushing back out to greet Jumin who had just made it to the edge of the living room to come find where you had gone. He froze for a second processing what you were now wearing. White cat ears that moved and twitched fairly believably and just as he was able to cope with that your made paws with your hands and tried your best “nya”. For a moment you feared you may have broken him. He didn’t move his face blank, eyes fixed on you. You tried again hoping to spur some sort of reaction from him “nya?” you said turning to the side slightly to show off the other half of your surprise a white tail complete with pink bow and bell at the base where it attached to your skirt. You tilted your head to look up at him through your lashes trying every trick in your arsenal to look as cute as possible but nothing. He was completely frozen. “Jumin? Hello?” now you were getting worried “darling are you okay?” you asked placing the back of your hand on his forehead to feel for a temperature. The second your hand touched him however his face flushed.

“neko girl.” He muttered “that’s neko as in cat” you could see him trying to calm himself. Fiddling with his shirt sleeves and attempting to stay in control. You smiled standing on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear.

“am I a good little kitten at least?”  you couldn’t contain your giggle as you heard him choke slightly before scooping you up bridal style.

“certainly not, in fact I think you’ve been a very bad little kitten.” He said his voice deeper than normal as he carried you back towards the bedroom.

[nicknellie]

Anonymous requested: It would be really cool if you could do a library AU! Maybe one of them works at a library and they keep running into each other or something.

I have been unbelievably excited to write this one, I’m so happy I’ve finally got around to it! This is where my mind went as soon as I read the prompt, I really hope you enjoy it! (If anyone wants to suggest a prompt for a part 2 I’d be more than happy to do that once I reopen requests.)

Featuring he/they Willie because I really need to include that headcanon in my writing more often. Willie’s pronouns alternate throughout.

Books on Boards

Usually it was Reggie whose excuses began with “In my defence…”

“In my defence, I couldn’t see where I was going… In my defence, I forgot water and electricity don’t mix… In my defence, if Luke didn’t want to be shot with a Nerf gun then he shouldn’t have been standing in my way…”

Sometimes it was Luke.

“In my defence, no one told me not to… In my defence, I didn’t realise it could go this horribly wrong… In my defence, I did try to do it properly and I don’t know how it blew up…”

On rare occasion, it was Julie.

“In my defence, I was a little lost in my own head… In my defence, I’m terrible at comebacks… In my defence, I have an extremely annoying boyfriend and he was trying to talk to me about our new setlist the whole time which was very distracting…”

But it was never Alex.

Until now.

“In my defence,” Alex began, raising a hand and talking over Julie, Luke, and Reggie’s shouts, “I have to go to the library a lot. I’m an English major and it’s where all the books are!”

“But you don’t need to be at the library for five hours a day,” Luke countered.

Alex sighed. He had a point, and Alex had no excuse this time. Well, that wasn’t strictly true – his excuse was an adorable library assistant who just so happened to be very friendly to Alex and, by some miracle, worked whenever Alex needed to study. But he couldn’t just admit that to his friends, each of whom was staring at him with flat disbelief.

The assistant’s name was Willie and he was simply wonderful. The first time Alex had met him had been right at the start of his first semester – he had never been to the university’s library before and it was bigger than the one at Alexandria, so he was unbelievably lost. Alex had half-convinced himself that he would be stuck there forever, doomed to wander between the shelves looking for the section he needed, eventually becoming a ghost and haunting the place, still trying to locate his books.

Enter Willie. They had scared Alex half to death – in Alex’s defence, he hadn’t expected to be knocked off his feet by someone on a skateboard in the middle of a library the size of Buckingham Palace. And yet, he had landed on the floor, flat on his face and winded, understandably startled. As he scrambled to his feet, he heard his assailant exclaim, “Aw… you dinged my board!”

Alex had started to berate him but stopped in his tracks when he looked at the guy and realised that he had been knocked to the floor by a literal angel. His long dark hair was majestically swept to one side and tucked behind his ear, his soft eyes were sparkling, and he had a lopsided smile on his face despite the fact that Alex had been shouting at him just a second earlier (well, whisper-shouting at him – they were in a library, after all).

“Sorry,” they had said, picking up their board. “I didn’t see you there. Books were in the way.” He had pointed to a heap of books now strewn across the floor, some splayed open, some with ripped pages. Alex realised that he had been carrying the books stacked up in front of him, skating along with them.

“Oh!” Alex exclaimed, bending down to help pick the books up. “No, sorry, it’s fine. I was just stood there. I’m a little lost, no problem, my fault.”

Together they had stacked the books back up, and Willie heaved the stack onto a nearby table before introducing himself. Alex did the same, shaking Willie’s hand and trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach – he couldn’t let himself get distracted by a cute guy with a skateboard, not while he still had all his books to find in the labyrinthine library.

“So,” Willie had said conversationally, leaning back against the table. “You said you were lost? Anything specific you need to find?”

Alex dug around in his fanny pack before pulling out the list he’d scribbled down. “Yeah, all of these. Do you know where they are?”

“I’d be a pretty terrible librarian if I didn’t,” Willie chuckled. At Alex’s bewildered look, he had raised an eyebrow and said, “I’m not a terrible librarian. I’m actually really good at it. I mean, I don’t usually knock over customers, but these things happen.”

“Oh,” Alex said, clocking on too late. It made sense – of course that was why Willie had been carrying so many books, he was a librarian. Alex didn’t know how he hadn’t guessed before. “Right, I get it, because of the books and the… Right, okay. What about the, uh… the skateboard?”

Willie had picked up their board, smiled at it fondly. “It helps me get around faster. This place is huge, man, you don’t seriously expect me to walk around it all day? Anyway, come with me, I’ll take you to those books.”

That had been five weeks ago.

It wasn’t Alex’s fault that Willie was incredibly cute. It wasn’t Alex’s fault that Willie’s shifts happened to perfectly align with his studying time. But he couldn’t deny that it was his fault that he had stayed there for hours on end every day since, talking to Willie about everything and nothing. And it was also his fault that he had done that very same thing today, checked his watch and seen that he was an hour late for band practise, and kept talking to Willie anyway.

Usually, Alex thought about consequences, but he had been having so much fun talking to Willie that day that he hadn’t considered them. Now those consequences had caught up with him in the form of one very angry rock band.

“Alex,” Luke said imploringly, “you’ve got to get your head in the game! We have a load of gigs coming up, really important ones–”

“We do?” Reggie interrupted, looking baffled. “I thought we’ve got that one at the old folks’ home and then that’s it for, like, a month?”

Luke waved him away. “That’s not the point. These gigs are just as important as any big ones. Dude, we’ve got to build up our repertoire so that we can start playing bigger venues, but that’s not going to happen if our drummer is too caught up in his studies!”

Alex inwardly sighed with relief. At least Luke thought the reason he was staying at the library so often was because he was working hard, not because he was talking to Willie. He would have preferred his tiny little crush on Willie stayed secret for a little longer; whenever Luke found out that Alex or Reggie liked someone, he became unbearable.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if Julie had other ideas.

She huffed an incredulous laugh, saying, “You seriously think he’s staying late because he’s studying?”

Luke nodded, confused, as Reggie gestured to Alex and said, “Of course he is, what other reason could there be?”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, nodding. He knew that the hitch in his voice was unconvincing – in his defence, he’d never been a good liar. “What other reason could there be?”

Julie raised a challenging eyebrow, but the smirk on her face told Alex that she knew she had already won. “Alex, can I just ask, who was working at the library today?”

Alex cleared his throat and tried for nonchalance when he said, “Willie.”

“You mean the good-looking skater-boy history major, right?” Julie said slyly.

Alex shrugged. “Yeah. I guess he is those things.”

Julie nodded slowly. Luke and Reggie were watching the interaction carefully, though it didn’t seem like the realisation had dawned on either of them yet.

“And who was working last Friday when you didn’t arrive back here until almost ten p.m.?” Julie asked.

“Willie,” Alex said under his breath, avoiding eye contact.

“Right,” Julie replied. “And what about Tuesday when you missed three lectures and were smiling too much to even care about how much that’ll drop your grade?”

Alex scowled and didn’t say anything. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know the answer, and judging by the ‘O’ shape Reggie’s mouth was making and the wide grin that had made itself at home on Luke’s face, they had figured it out too.

“Bro,” Luke said excitedly, “you’ve got a crush on Willie!”

“No,” Alex spluttered, “no, I do not. We just happen to get on really well and he’s always working when I need to study.”

“But he is the reason you’re always there, isn’t he?” Reggie prompted.

Alex shrugged. “I guess,” he mumbled.

Luke leapt up, clamped his hands onto Alex’s shoulders and jumped up and down like an over-excited puppy. The ecstatic smile on Luke’s face didn’t quite make up for how annoying it was.

“Dude,” he said emphatically, “you’ve gotta ask him out!”

“Don’t be silly,” Alex said, shaking his head, “it’s not like that.”

“It’s like that,” Julie, Luke and Reggie chorused. Alex just rolled his eyes.

“Look, Alex,” Julie said. He looked past Luke to her, but only because in situations like this she tended to be the voice of reason. “I actually agree with Luke.”

Apparently, that day she was taking a break from being the voice of reason.

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Julie interrupted him. “Hear me out. No matter what you say, you’re clearly head over heels for this guy. And it is distracting you – we’re two hours into rehearsal and you haven’t even set up your kit. If you ask him out and he says yes then you can hang out with him at other times as boyfriends, not when you’re meant to be spending time with us. If he says no, you can get him out of your mind and move on, getting your mind back on the band. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Again, Alex tried to respond, but this time Reggie and Luke both yelled over him.

“No!” Reggie shouted. “We agreed never to ask him that question again!”

“Have you forgotten last time?” Luke questioned furiously. “That was the longest three hours of my life!”

Julie held her hands up. “Sorry, sorry, it slipped my mind.”

“Okay,” Alex said, ignoring them and deciding to get the conversation back on track. “Even if I did do that, there’s so many things that could go wrong. I don’t know if he’s into guys, and if he says no for any reason at all then I can never go back to the library.”

Luke shook his head. “Dude, Willie’s the head of the university’s LGBTQ+ Society and he introduces himself as ‘Willie, he/they, gay’ at the start of each session.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been a couple of times. Hey, wait, we should all go, it’s actually super chill and–”

“It sounds great, Luke, but we’ll talk about it later,” Julie said, easily calming him as he started getting over-excited again. “Right now we have other things to focus on. Alex, if Luke’s right then Willie is definitely into guys. And from the way you’ve gushed about him and your conversations without realising it, I’d say he definitely has a thing for you. And he seems cool – I’m sure even if he said no then he’d act completely normally around you.”

“Yeah,” Reggie agreed, “the guy doesn’t find anything awkward. Last week I was looking through a book for my psychology class and just as I flicked to a… questionable page, he came up behind me. He just laughed it off and then offered to sign it out for me once I was done looking through it.”

Alex thought about it for a moment. It sounded too good to be true. Luke said that Willie was into guys, Julie said they might like Alex, Reggie said that they’d be cool with it no matter what… Good things like this didn’t happen to Alex too often.

“I’ll think about it,” he said. The others sighed, Reggie throwing up his hands with exasperation. “I will! I’ll think. But we should get to rehearsing.”

Almost two and a half hours later than they should have, the band finally set up their instruments and Alex counted them in.

*

He was at the library. Again. He was always at the library these days, just this time he really did need to be working. He had a big assessment coming up and needed to cram some last-minute studying in.

It would have been a lot easier if he hadn’t been trying to avoid Willie the entire time.

In Alex’s defence, it felt like the most reasonable option. Sure, he could see Willie and ask him out, but if Willie rejected him then he wasn’t sure he’d ever live it down despite his friends’ reassurances. He could have seen Willie and not asked him out, but then he’d be living in constant wonder of what could happen. So he had elected to do the sensible thing and just not see them at all.

It had been going well for the most part. His legs were beginning to ache from springing himself behind bookcases whenever he caught a glimpse of Willie, but it was worth it. Besides – he needed to focus, and an angelic librarian wasn’t about to help him do that.

He made his fatal error when trying to exit the library.

He had been so caught up in scanning the surrounding area for Willie that he hadn’t been looking ahead, or down at the floor. He heard the shout of, “Watch out!” too late.

Alex stepped forward, his foot landed on a skateboard, and he was sent flying down to the ground, landing hard on his coccyx. Pain shot up his back and he let out an agonised groan which earned him a “Shhhh!” from a tired-looking student sat at the nearest table.

“Alex,” came the same voice who had shouted the warning, the voice Alex now recognised as Willie’s. So much for avoiding him. Willie came and crouched down beside Alex where he was still laying on the floor, leaning over him, looking concerned. “Hey, Alex, you alright? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left my board lying there, I was only restocking that shelf.”

Groaning, Alex eased himself into a sitting position. Willie sat back, still looking worried.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Alex lied. His coccyx was killing him. “It’s fine. I won’t sue or demand you get fired or anything.”

Willie chuckled lightly and then held out his hand. Alex took it automatically and was a little startled when Willie began pulling him to his feet – maybe it was the shock, but he had thought the hand holding was them simply having a moment. But no, of course it was too good to be true. Willie let go of his hand the moment they were both stood and then bent to pick up his board.

“I hadn’t seen you,” Willie said. “Where’ve you been hiding?”

Alex shrugged. “Oh, nowhere. Just… doing my English work. In the quiet area.”

Nodding, Willie replied with something that made Alex’s blood run cold.

“That’s cool. It’s just that I was just talking to Luke a minute ago and he said there was something you wanted to ask me?”

Eyes wide, jaw open in shock, Alex looked behind Willie to where they had pointed. Sure enough, standing by the end of a nearby bookcase with his nose in a book (which he was clearly not reading because it was upside down) was Luke. He gave Alex a nervous wave when he saw him looking.

Trying not to sound murderous, Alex said, “Yeah. There was something.”

He realised too late that hadn’t been what he was planning to say.

“Yeah? What is it?” Willie asked with a smile.

Alex’s eyes darted from Willie to Luke and back again, then up to the ceiling and around the library for inspiration, and then they landed on his own wrist and the rainbow bracelet wrapped around it.

“I – well, we, me and my friends – we were wondering if there would be any space for us to join the LGBTQ+ Society. Luke mentioned you’re the head so I figured there’s no one better to ask than you. Right?”

Willie blinked, face faltering for just a moment. Alex tried not to panic – had he said the wrong thing, had he somehow offended Willie? But the look was gone quick enough for Alex to convince himself he’d imagined it, replaced by his radiant smile.

“Yeah, the more the merrier,” he said. But then he cleared his throat and added, “You’re sure that’s it?”

Swallowing nervously, Alex cast another glance to Luke who had given up the pretence of reading and was now urgently gesturing at Willie, making kissy faces, and mouthing words Alex couldn’t understand – but he got the message.

“Okay, no, there was one more thing,” he said quietly.

Willie tucked his hair behind his ear and Alex’s eyes caught momentarily on his earring.

“I was wondering,” he began, slow but steady, “if you would… by any chance… And you can say no, I won’t be offended! It’s just, I would really like to go on a date with you. And if you would like to go on a date with me then I think we should. Do that. Go on a date. Together. If you want?”

As awkward as it felt, Alex maintained eye contact – he was glad he did, because a moment later Willie’s face split in a beautiful grin that didn’t look mocking or apologetic, it looked genuinely happy.

“Yes,” Willie said, laughing quietly. “Yes, I do want that.”

Alex sighed with relief. “Thank god. I’m going to kill Luke.”

“Don’t,” Willie said, shaking his head. “I can’t have you getting arrested before I get to go on a date with you.”

“What about after the date?” Alex joked.

“Yeah, man, that’s fine.” Willie laughed but after a moment their expression softened. “I’m really glad you asked. I was going to, but I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”

Alex scratched at the back of his head. “Yeah. That’s the same reason it took me so long to do the actual asking.”

“Well,” said Willie, “that doesn’t matter now. Does Friday work for you?”

Alex’s only form of a social life was hanging out with the band, and his plans for Friday consisted largely of sitting in his and Reggie’s shared dorm room, eating cold pizza and watching reruns of Friends.

“Yeah,” he said coolly, “I can probably make it work. Might have to reschedule some stuff, but it’ll be worth it.”

Clearly not believing him but polite enough not to call him out, Willie laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Great. My shift finishes at five that day, I’ll let you be a gentleman and pick me up. I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll catch you then, Alex.”

“See you,” Alex said.

Willie walked away and was seamlessly replaced by Luke, who gripped Alex’s arms and shook him up and down. “Bro! You got a date with Willie! You can thank me later.”

Alex left the library, Luke trailing behind him. “I’m not thanking you,” he said, fighting a smile.

“Why not? I got him to come talk to you!”

“You didn’t ask him out, I did that. There’s nothing to thank you for.”

“That is where you’re very much wrong because…”

As Luke went on for a solid ten minutes about why Alex and Willie finally agreeing to go on a date was actually all down to him, Alex zoned out and let himself be happy. He had a date with Willie, the angelic librarian, the good-looking skater-boy history major. He couldn’t believe his luck.

When they arrived back at the studio, Julie smirked and said, “You’re grinning like an idiot, Alex.”

“In my defence,” he returned, “I'm going on a date with Willie.”

[alkaysani-archived]

You had an assigned seat next to them at a wedding for a mutual friend. + andromaquynh

oooh thank you for the patience on this kayla! this also has some joenicky in it, i hope you don’t mind!! you can also find it on ao3 here

the setup

“Nicolò, I am so happy for you.” And Quynh was, to the point that she couldn’t stop grinning that her face hurt so much. And her lovely Nicolò smiles at her, and leans into her arms, pressing close and she squeezes him tight, burying her face into his shoulder. “The ceremony was so beautiful! I can’t wait for the reception—” she starts, and Nicolò pulls away then with a smile, then a slight grimace.

 “I’m sorry again for the mix-up. I know I said you’d be with my Nona, but then my aunt showed up, with my uncle, and—” Nicolò rushes out, and Quynh just snorts and squeezes him.

 “It’s one table over, and it’s going to give me a chance to get to know Yusuf’s friends,” she says, just as said man wiggles his way in between the both of them, an arm on each of their shoulders.

 “Oh you’re going to love them, Quynh. They’re almost as terrifying as you,” Yusuf tells her, with a small kiss on her forehead that makes her feel warm. He glances at Nicolò and finds her best friend staring at his newly minted husband with the softest look in his light eyes, a small, crooked smile on his face.

A look of utter adoration. She couldn’t be happier for him. Quynh puffs up her chest and tugs down her suit jacket with a proud smirk at being called terrifying, nodding.

 “Maybe I’ll meet my match,” she says with a grin, making a soft noise when her ring catches on her shirt, missing the sly wink Yusuf gives his husband, before looking down at her hands, and reaching over to help. “Here, don’t tug,” Yusuf says softly, and Quynh drops her other hand to let the man do his thing. In the four years she’s known Yusuf, she’s learned the two most important things that she can learn about the man:

 One, he loves Nicolò with everything that he has, and has loved him since they started competing for study space at the library in their last year of college, that more than once have ended with Quynh making her way to campus to pull them apart. It reminded her of all the times she’d have to pull Nicolò by the back of the shirt when they were so much younger, away from any fight that he was willing to get into. Except that time, he didn’t end up dating them, or eventually marry them.

 And two, Yusuf makes everything he touches, better. That included his art, his writing, the people that he helps through his voluntary outreach, Nicolò’s life as a whole, especially his relationship with his family, Quynh’s appreciation for her job as the lead art curator at the university museum, and now delicate chiffon shirt, that her ring is most definitely stuck on. How did she even manage that? Yusuf takes his time, making sure not to tug and ruin her shirt, and Quynh waits, impatiently, because that’s who she is, and Nicolò moves to wrap an arm around her shoulders, squeezing.

 “Keep still, Quynh.” “No. I can just pull it, and if the shirt is ruined, take it off.” She definitely can. Quynh has a cropped, black tank underneath that’d still look great with her dark red suit.

 Nicolò makes a soft noise the same time as Yusuf lets out a soft “Yes,” and puts up the ring, smiling at her then. Her shirt looks completely unharmed. “No need to for a wardrobe change, though I still think you’d kill it,” he says, giving her the ring, that she slips through her finger with practiced ease.

 “Yusuf, do not encourage her.”

 “She’s not gonna be with Nona anymore, beloved,” Yusuf says with a wave of a hand. “I’m sure her new table companions would appreciate it,” he says, and Quynh squints at him then. What did he mean by that?

 “Either way, Quynh looks lovely. And her shirt is fine, so there’s no need to change,” he says, taking her hand then and pulling her along. “Come on, we need to get to the venue now. I’m sure they’re all waiting for us.”

 ***

 Quynh gets to the table at the reception hall first.

 The rest aren’t there yet. According to Yusuf, they couldn’t make it to the ceremony, and are looking to celebrate thoroughly when they all get there.

 “Have you met them before?” Quynh asked Nicolò softly, just before he left her, and Nicolò just gave her a smile, and a nod.

 “Remember those few years after college when Yusuf was away? When he was still volunteering overseas?” he asked, and Quynh nodded, remembering the two years after their graduation that Yusuf had left. “These are the friends he made from that. So, I’ve only ever met them when I was on video calls with Yusuf, and then when they’re on with Yusuf now. They’re still doing the same thing, even after Yusuf came home.”

 Came home to Nicolò, to build a life with him. When Yusuf had first left, Quynh had been angry, because how dare did Yusuf leave Nicolò to do this? To do good work, yes, but she was home to see how sad Nicolò had been, even though he himself was doing his own good work back home. He had missed Yusuf something terrible, and was never angry at the man. “He misses me just as much, for we love each other just the same,” Nicolò would always say to her when she’d get too upset. Still, it didn’t stop her from reaching out to Yusuf once or twice, asking him to consider coming home. And all he ever said was that he was working on it. And he did, and now he keeps his voluntary outreach at most, at a national level.

 “They’re good people then,” Quynh said, after a beat, and Nicolò smiles, nodding. “I think you’d get along with them, you know. You have something in common,” he replied, and Quynh blinks, tilting her head, just as they got to her seat. He smiled, and kissed her forehead.

 “They told him to come home to me, then helped him do it.”

 Yeah, that’s definitely going to be a plus on Quynh’s book.

 She’s fiddling with her ring and turned on her seat, conversing with one of Nicolò’s aunts when she hears the chairs on her table move behind her. Particularly, she feels the chair beside her move, and so she turns. And finds a tall woman pulling out the seat, in a sleek white suit, her dark hair stark against it. Quynh stares up at her and her breath hitches.

 Fuck, this woman is gorgeous.

 “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” the woman says to her, and Quynh blinks, wondering if she had said her words aloud, her face heating up, a smile creeping across her lips.

 “Smooth, boss,” she hears, and she glances at a tall blond man looking at the woman with a shake of his head, slipping into his own seat with a snort, a black man sitting beside him, then, flashing Quynh a bright, gleaming smile.

 “Her name is Andromache, and she’s got no filter,” the man says, reaching over the table to shake her hand. “Lykon,” he says, nodding.

 “Quynh,” she says softly, taking his hand into a firm shake. The first man smiles at her then, taking off his sunglasses. “Booker,” he says simply, and Quynh gives him a soft nod, before turning back to the woman, standing up now.

 “Andromache?” she says, voice soft, and the woman smiles, tilting her head.

 “You can call me Andy,” she says, extending her hand to her, and Quynh smiles then, taking her hand, and shaking it.

 “Quynh,” she says softly, and smiles when Andy starts to seat, and she does the same, facing her completely now.

 “You’re Nicky’s best friend,” Andy says, and she feels her back straightening at the fact that she knows that. “Joe tells me you’re scary,” she says, and Quynh tilts her head before leaning over, raising an eyebrow.

 “Only when I have to be,” she says, and Andy smirks, then laughing.

 “Oh, I love a challenge.”

 Damn. Quynh joked about finding her match, but this definitely feels like she has. Andromache feels different, already. She commands the room, but more importantly, she tugs something in Quynh.

 Probably her loins.

 Andy smiles at her then and winks at her, and Quynh feels like she’s going to melt into a puddle.

 Most definitely her loins.

 “Ugh, I can’t believe Nile wins the bet,” Booker groans, after a moment and Quynh turns to her then, Lykon laughing and already taking out what looks like a 100 Euros. Quynh raises an eyebrow.

 “What bet?” “The bet that Andy was going to make a move on you the moment she saw you in person. Joe’s been hyping you up since we met!” Lykon exclaims, and Andy shakes her head then, rolling her eyes.

 “That’s why Nile’s taking over for me, because she’s smarter than the two of you combined,” she says, before looking back at Quynh. “Nile’s going to be here in an hour or so. She’s finishing a call with her mom and brother,” she says with a smile, and she sounds soft-hearted at the whole idea. Quynh feels like she’ll like this Nile too.

 However, that’s when it hits her what they had just revealed. This has been a setup. She then looks over to where Yusuf was, currently holding two of his nephews in his arms, dancing around with them, while Nicolò rocks their baby sister in his own arms gently, conversing with their mother, Yusuf’s cousin.

 “That little shit,” Quynh says with pure affection in her voice, and when she looks back at Andy, she’s grinning, extending her hand gently to her.

 “This was a setup!” she gasps, and Andy just smiles at her still.

 “You interested?” she asks, bluntly, and honestly? Quynh adores it.

 She takes Andy’s hand then and nods, squeezing it, letting herself be tugged forward, standing with her then.

 “I most definitely am,” she says, and Andy smiles, before nodding to Lykon and Booker, who both stand to flank them. Lykon snorts, putting up a fist for Booker to bump, Andy and Quynh looking at the two of them now.

 “The al Kaysani-di Genova setup, complete,” Lykon says, and Booker nods, as they bump fist.

 “One for the books.”

 Andy snorts, and shakes her head, but Quynh can see that she is fond, and happy as she turns back to her.

 “Good,” Andy says with a soft smile. “I can’t wait to get started, but first, introduce us to your best friend?” she says, grinning. “They’ve no idea we’re here yet,”she reveals, and Quynh grins, then she’s moving back to go the other direction. Lykon and Booker make a soft confused noise, but they still follow, and Andy looks at her then.

 “Where are we going?”

 “We’re just going to go around. Go from behind, scare the crap out of them,” she says, and they all cheer in glee at the idea, but all Quynh can see then is Andy’s beautiful smile as she throws her head back in laughter.

 “You’re something else, Quynh,” she says, and Quynh laughs when Andy starts to take off her heeled boots, just as Quynh’s start to take off hers.

 “Seems like you are too, Andromache,” Quynh says, smiling at how easy her name rolls off her tongue. She squeezes her hand, before letting go, taking her shoes and leaving it at the hallway, before re-entering the banquet hall through the other door, Andromache right behind her.

 “Booker, Lykon, flank,” Andy says.

 “Got it boss,” Quynh hears, and she sees Lykon and Booker moving forward, still hidden and honestly, she’s impressed.

 Quynh looks back at Andy then, and smiles.

“Our first mission together?” she says, and Andy smiles, iridescent and beautiful even in the low light.

 “The first of many, Quynh,” Andy says simply, nodding.

 “We’re just getting started.”

[gryffindors-weasley]

Where We Belong

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Amongst all the lavish luxuries at his parents estate, there’s one place Draco feels he truly belongs.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: mentions of the war, brief mentions of alcohol, slight angst, fluff, kissing

The ballroom was decorated floor to ceiling in only the most expensive of luxuries, down to the very goblet in Draco’s hand, encrusted with crystals amongst pure gold. Malfoy events were never modest in the slightest, anything borderline simple would never suffice. A pianist sat in the far corner, though the instrument’s melody had traveled across the entirety of the grand room. He should know, he’s spent years dancing his fingers over the sleek ivory keys when his father wasn’t around to scold him for it. 

Dozens of conversations mingled in the space, ones he could only assume didn’t hold any true meaning. They were his parents acquaintances after all, they never had much more to talk about other than their estates and business dealings. He felt rather grateful he hadn’t been subjected to talk about such things, for he’d gone a different way with his life. One that was better suited for him. He doesn’t feel as though they’d be interested in the subject of healing sick and injured people with magic; if his father frowned upon his career choice surely they would too. But that wasn’t of importance to him now, not really, he had better things to concern himself with.

Perhaps the most enamoring part of this evening was you. Well, it was most definitely you. Granted, he’d wished that you weren’t as much of a socialite for just this evening, because he’d much rather be with you than stand along the same gray wall sipping his wine. He’d been doing that all night but still he settled for admiring you nonetheless, he could never tire of that.

You were singlehandedly the best thing to happen to him and he’d say that with absolute certainty. You knew him when he was a boy who made all the wrong choices, and you know him now as a man trying to make better of them as best he can. He felt he had many flaws for you to overlook, all of which you did in fact set aside because you couldn’t hold him to his mistakes forever. You’ve shown him love when he had none, and for that he was forever grateful.

You had been weaving in and out of clusters of forest green dresses and pristine black suits, attempting to hold a conversation as best you could. It was proving to be rather difficult because you didn’t revel in overly expensive mansions and finely manicured gardens; you reveled in your cozy cottage with imperfectly perfect flowerbeds and old wooden shelves crammed with worn books. So, you felt it best to keep it moving throughout the room in hopes someone would say something of interest. With the war having been concluded, there was no looming threat over your head to hide your relationship with the Malfoy heir, but a small part of you had still wanted be on good standing with everyone. However, it seemed as though your efforts may have been futile the more you spoke.

Narcissa adored you, and that was good enough for you.

Your eyes eventually landed on Draco’s in your periodic scan around the large room, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you sigh. You were tired of being social, you had done more than your fair share for the evening. He’d been eying you ever since you left his arms just short of an hour ago, it wasn’t hard to notice after all. After being discreet in his admiring all these years, he no longer cared about being obvious.

“Here I thought you’d abandoned me, love,” Draco says, feigning hurt as you take the goblet from his hand and set it down on a nearby table.

“Now why would I do that?” 

A smile was quick to grace his lips as he looked down at you, a chunk of his icy hair dipping into his eyes at the action. His mother had scolded him for ignoring her wishes on cutting his hair for this event, even just a trim or to simply slick it back, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. You liked it like that anyways.

“You look beautiful, you know,” he murmurs in your ear, dropping a sweet kiss just below it. A familiar heat began to burn in your cheeks as his lips ghost over your skin.

“I believe you’ve told me that quite a few times,” you smile, a laugh leaving your lips when he nipped the lobe of your ear in a playful response to your teasing. You quieted when it drew a few stares that were just as quickly averted.

“I mean it,” he sighs, his hands squeezing yours.

A deeper blush stains your cheeks and you will yourself to look away from him momentarily, the bout of jovial laughter ringing through the room giving the perfect excuse to do just that. Draco was growing tired of the bustling atmosphere, though he supposes he had been even since the two of you had arrived at the Manor. Elegant parties were no longer something he particularly enjoyed, only tolerable in small doses. He was tired of sharing your attention; he’d wanted you all to himself and didn’t find it in him to care if he was being selfish.

You turned back to him, the fondness of his gaze still very much there and you can’t help but lean on your toes and kiss him softly. The tender action seemed to have solidified his ideas, ones he’d pondered the entirety of the night and he found himself nodding towards the double doors without second thought. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth in a wordless agreement, and his hand is quick to envelop yours fully as he gives the room one final glance before tugging you along.

The halls were nearly vacant as you hurried through them with a practiced ease, his hand never leaving yours. Smiles were fought to be contained as you passed by a few staggered guests, sharing an adoring gaze as he tightened his grip on your hand. The only sounds to be heard were the giddy laughter leaving your lips, mingled with the fading commotion of the crowded ballroom and of course the clicking of your heels. The two of you disappeared around a corner, apparating to the only place you’d wanted to be that night, home.

—

The change of scenery was much needed, and very contrasting at that, your home far warmer and welcoming than the Manor could ever be. The scent of cinnamon and sugar was immediate upon walking through the door, a warm glow of miscellaneous lamps illuminating every room. Every shadow seemed far less mysterious and cold, the feeling of prying eyes within them no longer present. It was refreshingly quiet save for the pattering of the rain outside and the ticking of a few clocks, it was serene and it was home. No bad memories were housed here, and hostility was not welcome if you could help it. There had been enough sorrow and guilt in Draco’s not-so-distant past to last a lifetime or two, and he didn’t want it to tarnish your home. It was peaceful and it was shared with the love of your life.

“Are you ready, darling?” Draco calls out from the bottom of the stairs.

You appear at the very top with a smile on your face, Draco’s soon to follow as you made your way down the creaky wooden steps to him. It was tradition; after ever ball, every party, every fancy dinner at his parents estate—you would always come home to enjoy a night alone, away from elegant luxury, and away from the need to be proper. For an event like this in particular, it was always customary to share a dance.

Draco’s pristine black suit was discarded in favor of his plaid pajama pants, his hair a ruffled mess of platinum from apparating in the rain. Your silky gray dress had since been abandoned in a crumpled pile on the bedroom floor, his old quidditch sweater hanging comfortably from your shoulders in heaps of tattered deep green yarn. He hadn’t worn the thing since sixth year, but you had always taken a liking to it so he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it.

“I’d argue that you look even more handsome right now,” you state.

“And here I thought you liked my signature suit,” he scoffs in faux offense as you join him at the bottom of the stairs, a bright smile on your lips.

It was true, he was always dashing in his rather monochromatic suit, it was impossible for him not to be. But his current attire was much more preferred, he looked much more comfortable. Not so rough around the edges and intimidating, not that you ever considered him to be. He was rather soft under all those layers of defense and angered sorrow even if he didn’t want to admit it.

He offers you his hand in a playfully mocking attempt to be proper, leading you to the living room. It was lit with just about every single candle he could find, the varying scents not necessary mingling very well with one another but the effort was enough to outshine it. The fireplace melted away the nagging chill of the rainy evening, and a single flower was held in your direction. It’s ruffled pink petals dripped with raindrops when you take it, and you laugh softly at the sweetness of the gesture.

“Have you always been so romantic?” You jest, his eyes narrowing at you in a lighthearted glare as you smell the lingering floral smell.

“Only for you, my love,” he says with a soft smile, tugging you close. “Not a word of it to anyone else.”

You laugh at the words quietly spoken against your lips, though you’re quickly cut short when his own meld with yours, his hand settling on your flushed cheek tenderly. His soft sigh tickles against your skin and you couldn’t help the giggle it had elicited, the flower in your hand now fluttering to the floor as you wrap your arms around his neck. He continued his affections across your cheek and over your jaw, your smile never faltering. 

“Is something funny, darling?” 

Amusement laces his tone as his words muffle against your skin, the feeling sending a shiver up your spine and an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. Your breath hitched in your throat at the single kiss pressed there. He knew that very fact quite well, taking great joy in the effect of such a simple action.

“Yes, actually, there is,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to stave off how flustered you were becoming.

He looks up to meet your gaze, his brow raising as the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Do enlighten me.”

“I believe the tradition is to dance with me, Draco, not kiss me,” you laugh softly.

His hand drops from your cheek and joins his other around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“This is the first moment I’ve got you all to myself, pardon me if I want to kiss you all night,” he quips, his smile fond as he looks at you. “Besides, traditions don’t always have to be set in stone, do they?”

You smile and he kisses you before you can argue his reasoning, though you don’t think you can find a plausible counter for it with the way his breath mingles with yours in the close proximity. He breaks from you too soon with another quick kiss, and you take the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder. 

No music was needed as you swayed about the cozy living room, the candlelight flickering against the sage-colored walls. No music was ever needed when you found yourselves in your own little world as you so often do. A moment alone to dance with you in the privacy of your own home, in the comfort of your pajamas at that, was far better than some elaborate ballroom in ridiculously expensive clothing. It will always be better, for your company would always be enough for Draco no matter the circumstance.

A smile graces his lips as his cheek rests atop your head, and the platinum hair that poked in his eyes and tickled his nose was only a minor inconvenience not worthy of interrupting moment like this. He still wonders how he’d gotten so lucky as to steal your affections, and not a single day goes by where he doesn’t feel fortunate for it. You were wonderful, you were warm, you were radiant, and you were his.

He’d dance a thousand dances with you in this very living room, because this was where the two of you belong.

—

Tags: @theweasleysredhair @lunalovecroft @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq

[sunshineseung]

Little Secret Part 4 // Changbin

🍄 | genre: smut mini-series ☁️ | pairing: Seo Changbin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 4.3k 🌸 | includes: Jisung x [man] just a little, yearning, teasing, making outtt, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slight size kink, slight possessiveness, no aftercare (yet)

v Read the other parts first! v 🌊 | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Finale |

“I’m going out!” Jisung slung his bag behind his back, heading towards the front door. You, sitting on the couch with your head in your phone, give him a quick mhm before he went on his way. You didn’t know where he was going, and frankly, you didn’t care. Jisung out of the house gave you the chance to invite Changbin over, assuming they weren’t hanging out.

You haven’t seen Changbin in two days, but the two of you have been texting nonstop, mostly at night when you were both tired and horny. Changbin hasn’t seen Jisung since he almost caught you, but they’ve been texting with Chan in their group chat. Unfortunately, that’s about it. Jisung was making his space away from Changbin. 

Hey, wanna come over? My brother left

You wait a minute. Then a minute turns into 30, and 30 turns into 60. You start to regret sending the text considering he isn’t replying. You’ve given up hope before you hear your phone ring: It’s a call from Changbin.

“Hey!” You answer way too eagerly, probably freaking him out. “What’s up, Binnie?” 

As much as he loves when you call him Binnie, now was not the time for his heart to flutter.

“Y/n, can I still come over?” You had no clue why he had to call you for that, but regardless, you obviously said yes. “We need to talk, for real this time.”

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Jisung couldn’t look at you. He was repulsed by our actions to the point where he would cringe whenever he heard your voice, because he knew your mouth belonged to his best friend. He didn’t want to think about it, and he needed to get his mind off of it. Since he clearly couldn’t hang out with Changbin, he called his next best friend, Chan. 

“Hey, Chan!” Jisung sounded happy though the phone, although he’d just been pounding his fists into his steering wheel out of anger moments ago. “Can we hang out in the studio? I need to let off some steam.”

It was about a month ago at a stupid house party. Chan was DJing while Jisung and Changbin were off partying, and he was doing a damn good job if he had to say so himself. Of course, just like every party, when the noise died down and people started to leave, Chan was dragged into a random drinking circle with several strangers, but most importantly, his best friend Jisung, although Chan would never call him that infront of him, because he knew Jisung and Changbin were closer than Chan and Jisung could ever be. Chan let the music run a random playlist of his while he sat, casually drinking and chatting before the game started. 

Never Have I Ever: Ten fingers up, and if you’ve done it, put a finger down. Go around in a circle until someone, probably the most innocent out of the group, has won. It always goes wrong for Chan, though. 

“Never have I ever…” a random girl looked around the circle, pausing to ponder what she’s never done, “had a crush on someone of the same sex.” 

Most of the girls put a finger down, and the guys awkwardly looked back and forth until Chan slipped his pinky finger down. He couldn’t tell a lie, but he didn’t want to admit that he had conflicting feelings for other men, let alone his best friend.

The circle went quiet as they stared at Chan, eyes unmoving. In Chan’s head, it felt like the world was imploding around him and at any moment he could combust, but the game simply went on. No questions were asked, and they moved on. When it got around to Jisung, his galaxy brain sparked and he knew a way to get all the girls out with one hit.

“Never have I ever fucked a man.” A simple command, and all but one of the girls put down one of their fingers. Jisung didn’t know it, but he lit a fuse that led directly to Chan, and if he wasn’t careful, Chan was going to be set off. 

Chan didn’t put a finger down for that, and he didn’t have to, but the idea of Chan being the man that got to make Jisung put his finger down was bubbling in his brain. It had been for months, but now that he heard the words come out of Jisung’s mouth, it felt real. It felt right there. At an arm’s reach, Chan could propose the idea to Jisung and end this party with a bang (quite literally.) Ever polite, Chan stayed quiet, remaining in his spot, letting the night go on without a hitch. 

There was no way Jisung could know.

Being invited to the studio to be with Jisung was nothing new. They’d worked on tracks alone before, but Chan always had to leave early, his thoughts getting the best of him as he ran to his car to jerk off in an empty parking lot before driving home to go through the motions again. There was no chance of Chan getting together with Jisung.

“Sure! I’ll be down in a few.” Chan sighed, going to collect his things and head to the studio.

“It won’t be long! I just need to talk for a minute.” 

Talk? Talk about what? Music? Friendship? Did another girl break his heart? Was he still going on about Changbin and his sister?

Chan had no idea. He just wanted to hear Jisung’s voice. 

At the studio, Jisung got there before Chan. He sat patiently, hands folded in his lap, going over what he wanted to say. He had practiced his speech for Chan in his head, in the mirror, in his car, and even in his phone notes, but nothing could prepare him for actually facing Chan. 

As if on cue, Chan walked in right as Jisung finished his mental monologue. A quick wave sufficed as a greeting, but before Chan could take his laptop out, Jisung told Chan to sit down and listen.

“This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out.” Jisung always sounded crazy, but Chan just nodded. “If you’re all caught up, you should know that Changbin is fucking my sister.” Again, a gentle nod. “Obviously, I don’t fucking like that, so I want to get back at him!”

“And what?” Chan laughs, rolling his eyes at the younger. “Fuck his sister?”

“No way! She’s way too out of my league.” He was only partially true. “I’m going to fuck the one person he cares about more than his family.”

“So, you’re gonna fuck yourself?” Chan was genuinely confused. He had no clue where Jisung was going with this insane plan, but as his brain slowly put the pieces together, his eyes got more wide. Jisung noticed his flushed expression and began to shake, scared of what was going on in Chan’s head.

“Chan, if it’s okay with yo-”

“Yes.” Chan placed both of his hands on Jisung’s knees, leaning forward to get closer to Jisung’s face. His features looked so detailed and pretty. They’ve never been this close before. Chan’s heart was beating out of his chest while Jisung’s heart was racing for another reason. Neither of them knew what to do.

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Jisung’s voice wavered as he asked the question. His eyes were glowing with the realization that Chan had some sort of sexual or romantic feeling for him. Chan cupped Jisung’s cheek, petting him before nodding in approval. 

“What made you think of this plan?” Chan’s eyes left Jisung’s and wondered to his lips, cute and plump. Jisung had a slight pout, and it made Chan just that much harder. 

“I…” Jisung trailed off, looking to a corner of the quiet studio. “I didn’t think much about it before, but to get back at Changbin, I want to fuck someone close to him, and you’re the only person I could think of.”

“I didn’t know you liked guys.” Chan admitted, leaning even closer and making Jisung sweat. He could feel Chan’s breath on his face, and just his presence was intoxicating.

“I didn’t know either,” Jisung paused, “but the more I thought about you…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Chan’s hands crept up Jisung’s thighs, sliding up to his hips and pulling Jisung onto his lap. “Just let me make you feel good, baby boy.”

Whenever Jisung would describe his sex life, he was always on top: railing women and never looking back. He always depicted himself as being in control, but right now Jisung had no control. He was at the will of Christopher Bang, and Chan knew all too well what he wanted to do to the poor boy. 

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Changbin yawned as he rounded the corner, heading towards the 3Racha studio where he assumed he would be alone. As he approached, he noticed the blinds on the door were down although they always left them up. That’s weird, he thought, taking hold of the door knob before being stopped by the lock.

There was a commotion inside. It sounded like scrambling, things hitting the ground and other things being swept up. He thought it was just Jisung throwing a tantrum and wrecking the place, which would be a little funny, but a minute passed before the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Chan welcoming him in and a lazed Jisung, sprawled out on the couch, equally disheveled and a little sleepy. 

“What-” Changbin looked around the room. The desk with the expensive equipment was safe, but one of the swivel chairs was pushed over and the pillows from the couch were on the floor. 

“Hey, Bin! We were just working on something!” Chan was glowing, a smile wide across his face. Looking at the black computer screen, Changbin inhaled the scent of the room. 

“It smells like balls in here, what the fuck were you two doing?” Changbin takes a step in, not taking off his bag, because honestly, he wanted to leave.

“Working.” Jisung’s voice was hoarse, and he quickly coughed to reverse the effects of having a cock down his throat minutes before. “We were making a new track.”

“Oh, really?” Changbin rolls his eyes and looks at his phone. He hadn’t noticed before, but you texted him. 

“What is it? A text from my sister?” Jisung began sulking, all the memories of the past couple days returning to his fuzzy post-sex brain. 

Changbin stopped. He had never fully admitted his involvement with you to Jisung, and considering he totally just got railed by the only other person Changbin trusted, he thought this was the time.

“Yeah, actually.” Changbin smirked, raising his brows and Jisung. Chan’s jaw dropped as if he didn’t know what was going on. Jisung’s face went red with anger, and before he could stand up and yell up a storm, Changbin turned around to head out. “She said her brother isn’t home. I should go take advantage of that, right Jisung?”

“You fucker-”

“Oh, and your sister gives great head. Maybe it runs in the family.” Changbin shoots a look at Chan before slamming the door shut behind him and heading back to his car.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

You sat in the living room, waiting to hear Changbin knocking at your front door. You were terrified that he was going to try to break your relationship like last time, but it seems like he was content judging from texts. Maybe he just wanted to talk, or maybe he wanted to break your heart. No matter what, you wanted him here. 

Three knocks at the door startled you out of your daze. You welcomed Changbin inside and you sat on your couch with him. This was the first time Changbin was sitting with you instead of Jisung, and it felt strange and familiar at the same time. Changbin’s heart was racing, and you felt the awkward tension as Changbin looked around, refusing to look at you. 

You placed your hand on his thigh, bringing his attention to you. “You said you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” Changbin gulped, unsure of how to bring this up. “So, I told Jisung a few things, and he fully knows that we’ve been…” 

“Oh?” You blush, afraid of what your brother was going to say to you and if he’d ever be able to look you in the eyes again. “Was he okay?”

“I didn’t give him much time to respond, but it looked like he was pretty pissed.” Changbin chuckles, and you do the same. A silence fell over the room as Changbin prepared what he was going to say next. He didn’t want to out his brother to his sister, especially if it was all a misunderstanding and Changbin just walked into the studio when it coincidentally smelled like balls. He just folded his hands and leaned back into the couch, resting the back of his head on the back. “What are we?”

His question hit you like a brick wall, because you didn’t have an answer. You’ve been an ace in all your classes and yet you couldn’t answer this simple question. You bit your bottom lip in concentration, replaying every conversation and moment you two had shared since the night Changbin so rudely barged in on your wanking session. 

“Do you want to be anything more than fuck buddies?” Changbin reenters the silence with another headsplitting question. You’ve always wanted to be the girlfriend of Seo Changbin, but now you are clamming up. Did you want to be his girlfriend, or was it all fantasy?

“I want to be with you, Changbin.” Your eyes met each other’s for the first time, and it felt heavy, as if the air got thicker just by meeting the other’s gaze. “I don’t know if that means I want to be your girlfriend, but I just know I want to be with you.” 

“Alright.” Changbin nodded, leaning closer to you. “Let’s forget labels for now.” He catches your lips in a kiss, holding your chin in one hand while your arms wrap around his neck, pulling your body towards his. He pulls away, breathless and calm. “I want to be with you, too.”

The next kiss is sweet enough to give you a cavity. It’s warm and inviting. No tongue, just lips on lips, appreciating the taste of the other. 

Regardless of what your brother thought, you were content in staying with Changbin. No amount of family disapproval or shunning could stop you from being with Changbin. It was as if your world had begun to revolve around Changbin. He took real estate in your mind every day and night, consistently keeping you awake for hours on end from your heart beating too fast at the thought of seeing him again. 

Changbin didn’t notice, but he had grown feelings for you. Before the first time you were together, you were nothing but a hot girl he thought about when he jerked off, but it quickly became more than that. He was infatuated with your existence. If you thought about him 24/7, he thought about you 25/8. He’s been with many girls before, but never one like you. No one made him feel like his world could fall apart at the removal of their presence like you. You were precious to Changbin, and he wanted to make you his and his alone. 

You were sitting in his lap, legs spread around his hips and you grinded into each other, feeling each other up like it was the last time you were going to be together. His hands cupped your breasts, kneading you through your shirt and bra, while your hands rested on his thick arms, holding on like you were about to drown. Everything felt rushed while simultaneously being drawn out. You were both so desperate for the other that you didn’t even care about the clothes in your way. 

No matter how much stamina Changbin had regularly, whenever he was with you, it always felt like he could pop at any moment and make a fool of himself. He loved your body so much, it was absurd. When your hands circled his nipples and gently pulled at the nubs, he felt his cock twitch in his pants. 

“I need to be inside you right now, princess.” You loved when he called you that, and even more, you loved when he showed how needy he was for you. He stood up with you, kissing your face all over before meeting your lips in a deep kiss. You felt so overwhelmingly heated, and when Changbin’s bulge brushed against you, you couldn’t help but let out a choked moan into the kiss.

He pulls away and pulls your shirt over your head, throwing it somewhere behind him to bring attention to your chest. He’s quick to remove your bra and properly worship your tits like he’s been wanting to do. He kisses down from your lips to your chest, attaching his lips around one of your nipples, but not before leaving a bright red hickey to form on your neck. His tongue flicked against your sensitive nub while his free hand gently twisted your other. Your legs were getting weaker by the second, and you couldn’t help but have moans escape your lips. His hand that wasn’t playing with your tits snaked around your body, holding up you by the waist. Unfortunately, he didn’t want to be bent down forever.

He stood up, slightly towering over you. His hands snapped to your hips and pulled your pants down, exposing your pretty lace panties. Changbin licked his lips at the sight, taking it all in for a moment. You felt his eyes gracing over your body, and you shivered from the intense look in his eyes. You were already dripping wet from his touches, and Changbin could sense that you were as needy as he was.

“Let’s go up to your room, baby.” Changbin took your hand and turned around, heading towards the stairwell. “We don’t want your brother coming home and finding us here.”

You headed up to your room, not bothering to pick up your clothes from downstairs. It wasn’t until you were in your room, laid back under Changbin that you realized he was still entirely dressed while you were only in your underwear.

“Changbinnie,” he lifted his head from your neck, arching an eyebrow at you, “let me see your body. I want to see you.” 

“Anything for my girl.”

My girl. Wow, you were his girl. His girl, all for him to use like a little cumrag. You were so high strung, and it felt like the only two people in the world were you and Changbin. He leans up, taking off his shirt and pulling down his pants, letting you see the impressive bulge in his boxers. You could practically feel his cock inside you just from seeing the outline. The whine you release is pathetic, and it makes Changbin laugh at your desperate state, but it also made him want you more.

He pressed his bulge against your cunt, dry humping you and feeling your wetness transfer to his boxers. You looked so hot while squirming under him. “Beg for it, baby. What do you want me to do?” 

“Ch-Changbin,” you slurred your words, already going dumb from a few teasing touches. You felt so small under him. Not physically small, but mentally small. He could form a full sentence and you could hardly think straight. “Please fuck me, please~”

He pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. His cock popped out of his boxers as he pulled them down, finally being free. He pressed his tip against your clit, circling it and feeling your hips jolt.

“More, Y/n. Beg more.” Changbin’s brain was starting to get fuzzy too. His tip was so angry and red. You whined at the friction of the tip of his cock going through your folds. You wanted him inside you so bad, but you couldn’t articulate any of your very few thoughts. All you could do was whine. 

“P-please.” Your breathing was heavy. Without another word, you lifted your hips into his cock, hoping he understands your message, which he fully does, and as much as he wants to fuck you brainless, he also wants to hear you.

“Cmon, doll. You got this.” He holds your hips down and thrusts his cock through your folds without ever entering you. “Beg for my cock.”

You practically scream, “please fuck me, Changbin! I need your cock! I want to cum so bad for you, please.” You lose yourself at the end, unable to think any sort of coherent thought. Luckily, you didn’t need to speak anymore. Changbin was satisfied. 

He lined up with your entrance and pushed in, going about half way before stopping and making sure you were okay. The stretch was painful again, but it felt so good. You loved being filled by his cock, especially since it dragged across your walls so perfectly. When he finally bottoms out, he waits for you to slightly return to your senses. Your breathing begins to even as you grow comfortable with Changbin inside you. 

“Ready for me to move?” Your nodding is frantic, and your eagerness only eggs him on. He nearly pulls entirely out of you before pushing back in with one strong thrust, feeling somehow deeper than he was before. It felt like a new feeling. It felt different. He felt closer, warmer, better, but you couldn’t figure out why.

No condom. Changbin knew he didn’t put protection on, and he didn’t want to. He wanted to feel you around him. His stamina was good enough to make you cum plenty before he needed to pull out. He loved the way you felt with the condom on, and without, you felt a thousand times better. Fuck, maybe he wasn’t going to last as long as he thought.

His thrusts sped up, and he held himself closer inside you, hardly pulling out before plunging back in. The sound of skin slapping filled the room as Changbin leaned down to kiss you. Your tongues swirled together, and he ate up all your pretty moans of his name. 

Your tight cunt hugged his shaft so well, and the way his tip prodded at your g-spot made your head spin. His lips on yours kept you grounded, you passionately kissing back regardless of your breathlessness. His hands cup your tits, playing with your nipples with his thumb and forefinger. Even though you hadn’t been together too long, he knew just how to make your body feel best. He was an expert at everything he did, and fucking you was no exception. 

“Bin, ‘m close.” You spoke against his lips, him humming in response. His thrusts were rough, drilling you into the mattress. His groans sounded so hot, you never wanted them to end. He was right next to your ear, praising you and telling you how tight you were. 

“Ah, turn over, princess.” Changbin pulled out and patted your thigh, promoting you to push your face into your pillows and put your ass up. The view was beautiful, but now was no time to admire your body. Changbin needed to be inside you again.

His abrupt re-entrance made you moan loudly while his cock stretched you again. His thrusts were even faster and deeper than before, and your orgasm soon returned to the edge. The bed was creaking loudly, and the headboard pounded into the wall. 

In a flash, your head was pulled up by your hair. Changbin had your hair around his fist, pulling you violently out of the pillows and onto your hands. Your mouth hung open as he continued to violate your hole, brushing past your sensitive walls and pounding into your g-spot with every trust. His groans got louder and his pace began to fray. 

“Cum on my cock, Y/n.” His voice was hoarse and demanding, as if he was about to bust inside you at any moment. “Let Binnie feel you cum, sweetheart.”

“Ah~ Bin!” You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap. Your mind was so foggy, and all you could think of was Changbin’s amazing cock and the way he was railing you so well. “Changbin, so good…”

“Yeah, baby?” He pursues you, egging you on to say more. “What’s good?”

“Your cock! Your cock is- ah!” You’re screaming at this point, begging that your orgasm washes over your fucked out body soon. Changbin pushes you back down into your pillow, muffling your moans until you can turn your head and breath again.

You bite down on your lip hard enough to bleed before your mouth goes agape, slurring every curse word you could think of as your orgasm hit you like a metal bat. Your cunt began convulsing, making it harder and harder for Changbin to keep from cumming inside your hot pussy. He looked down at where you two were connected and saw the abundance of your creamy release coat his cock thicker than before. Your hands squeezed the sheets as you began to become overstimulated, your body becoming sore fast. 

“Changbin, it-” You’re still breathing heavily, thoughts slowly coming back to you. “It hurts.”

“Ah, princess,” Changbin pulls out, stroking himself intensely before cumming on your ass and your back. “Fuck, you felt too good.”

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Jisung leads Chan into your house, holding his hand just to guide him upstairs. Before he can even put a foot on the bottom step, he sees your bra on the floor. He isn’t entirely sure that it’s yours, but he knows it can’t be anyone else’s. Chan’s ears perk up at the lewd sounds coming from upstairs, and Jisung soon notices too.

“We could go to my place-”

“No!” Jisung interrupts Chan just loud enough for it to be jarring. “They won’t mind a little more noise.”

[bansheeoftheforest]

Do you perhaps have some Jekshire thoughts you could share? I cannot get enough of this unfortunately very niche ship.

Hehe hehehe heheheheehhehe hehehhe heh <3

I... Might have gone a bit off board with this but hehe... Somehow this ended up being mostly about how they got together and the beginning of their relationship but??? eh <3

While Henry hadn't really realized his bisexuality until he met Robert and immediately felt ashamed by it, Enoch had always had a hum about his bisexuality. Except, of course, he chalked it up to him and his pals just being bros. Just pals being dudes. Lads being guys. Nothing unusual with that. Although when he did realize that maybe he thought guys looked... Ahem, better than most other guys would think, he just shrugged it off and didn’t give a single shit about it, though <3

Enoch was one of the first persons that Henry saw when he entered London for the first time; Enoch was an officer-in-training patrolling the London borders with his higher-ups, and Henry was an eager student about to make his way straight to the University campus. They shared a short glance and Enoch couldn't help but feel like Henry was awfully cute, although he didn't even catch those thoughts himself.

It's no secret that Henry-- as a young, successful doctor, bachelor, and just generally a good and attractive person-- has a lot of people that has a crush on him, yet he doesn't notice that himself. He catches people's heart like they are flies flocking to his light, Enoch was no different, although it took a handful of more encounters with him in their latter years for him to realize that. Henry remained blissfully unaware.

Enoch has always been good at hiding his emotions and keeping them away from his workplace, but when he came back from a patrol after just having ran into Dr. Jekyll and shared a brief chat with him, it was not hard for the other officers to notice that something was... Hm, unusual with Brokenshire that day.

It took only a handful of more solo patrols and Enoch coming back like he had just gotten a red-faced spring allergy with soft grumbling for Jenkins and Wipple realize he kept meeting an object of his affections. Cue a lot of teasing. Cue a lot of protests from Brokenshire. Cue a lot of drunkenly getting his feelings out to his friends by simply making it seem like Henry is a married woman that Enoch accidentally had fallen for. Cue a lot of sympathy and even more teasing.

So if he suddenly had a lot of solo patrols by the Society, then he would just say it was his sheer luck. 

He ends up accidentally running into Henry a lot. Henry always seems pleasantly delighted and surprised. Enoch can never really help but feel extremely giddy about it. 

They never really formally became friends until they both attended an event held by the commissioner. Both being close friends to their mutual associate, the two of them ended up running into each other again quite quickly.

Or more like, Henry saw Brokenshire standing in a corner, dressed in his finest (and only) formal suit while sipping wine. It had taken exactly half a moment for Henry to completely abandon whatever friends he had been chatting up to make his way over to the lonely sergeant. A sergeant who very much tried to hide his blush and fluster while trying to not choke on his wine. 

They ended up casually talking for the first time during that event, they both learned a lot about each other-- Henry often spoke of Glasgow with Brokenshire, who’s family had immigrated from Edinburgh to London before he was born.

While they started casually talking during the event, they soon began to spend more time together. Enoch quickly learned that Henry’s reputation of being someone who very much will talk someone’s ears off wasn’t an overstatement, yet he found it quite endearing. Soon Enoch would find himself accompanied by the doctor during his lonely patrols in Westminster, and soon Henry found himself getting escorted to his meetings by a particularly bored sergeant who always seemed to catch him at the right time.

It really did not take long for Enoch to realize why the commissioner was so fond of Henry, and it really did not take long for his sudden crush on the other man to get a bit overwhelming.

Henry, meanwhile, had been too caught up with the actual events of TGS to fully notice his own growing fondness for the sergeant. Or more like, he saw the signs but refused to confront them in fear of repeating what happened to him and Robert... And, well, falling for a police officer who wants another part of him dead.

That plan went straight to hell. Henry soon caught himself following the sergeant like an affectionate puppy, and his little love-sickness was quickly noticed by a handful of Lodgers who desperately wanted to know who had managed to get suck a reaction out of him. The fact that Henry was suddenly spending more and more time with Enoch seemed to go completely unnoticed by everyone.

Neither of them really realized their feelings for each other until Brokenshire found Henry stumbling down the street one night; his body was beaten and bruised, his clothes were torn, and he had just managed to escape a nasty bar-fight that Hyde had gotten him into. It was just his luck that he had managed to escape enough to get some HJ7 into him. Enoch had decided that the Society or the hospital were both too far away, so he took him into the station instead. Yet he merely told the other officers to find the offenders while he patched up Henry.

It was certainly unprofessional of him to place Henry down on his own chair in his office before gently placing the palm of his coarse hand on the other’s cheek as he began to clean the wounds and the dried blood from the nosebleed, and yet neither could say that they minded. Something about having Enoch’s large hand on his sensitive face made Henry melt into the touch, something about seeing Henry’s eyes flutter close at the careful touches got Enoch’s heart beating faster and faster.

Henry had been... Quite out of it, so to speak. Enoch had not known if it was because he was horribly drunk or had suffered a nasty hit to the head, but as he carefully began to question him about what had happened, the way Henry would almost grin and tilt his head upwards (almost as if he was proud of it) got a completely unnecessary blush to reach Enoch’s cheeks. 

Enoch helped Henry back to the Society, and yet he could not keep himself from visiting the next morning. “Just to make sure he is fine”, he had told himself. Well, the Lodgers did not believe that, and poor hangover Henry woke up to the sound of a lot of yelling from the foyer. The Lodgers were too busy trying to shoo the sergeant (who was off-duty, mind you) to notice the doctor. Enoch noticed him immediately and yet he hated how his heartbeat began to pick up again.

It all ended up with Henry inviting Enoch into his office for a bit of tea... Which, in itself, ended up with the two of them sitting closer to each other than probably should have been socially acceptable. Neither could deny that it probably wasn’t the steaming tea that warmed them up, neither could deny that their companion was looking too good for their own good in that soft morning light.

Henry was too hungover to really think straight, soon they ended up gazing at each other and neither could look away. Suddenly Henry felt himself coming closer, he heard how Brokenshire’s breath hitched, yet neither pulled away. They noses brushed together, both knew that they should probably pull away, and neither did. In the end, it was Enoch who placed his hand on Henry’s cheek and closed the distance between them.

Enoch and Henry didn’t leave the office for hours. Both could consider themselves lucky that Enoch had a day off and Henry had nothing scheduled. 

Ahaha anyways time for some actual hcs about this ship.

Enoch is very protective of Henry. Like, stupidly protective, and yet he always makes sure that he never overwhelm Henry with it. He just worries a lot for his lover and especially since he knows what a cruel world they live in and how terrible Henry is at taking care of and loving himself. Henry thinks it’s quite sweet, especially just because he thinks it’s nice to have a lover who actually cares about him.

Both Enoch and Henry love dogs. Enoch does not bat an eye at church grims. Rachel had to physically restrain both of them from adopting an entire graveyard filled with church grims after many of the smaller churches in London were destroyed to make way for new apartments.

Cuddles. SO much cuddles. Neither are big at PDA or physical affection otherwise but jesus christ so many cuddles. It goes to the point where neither can sleep without the other, so Henry has to constantly sneak out of the Society (or his own house) to get to Enoch’s apartment since he doesn’t want to risk his servants or the Lodgers getting suspicious. Enoch always waits for him with a cup of peppermint tea for him when he comes by during the night.

Henry has a thing for men in uniform. That’s it. That’s the post /hj.

Enoch is the only person that Henry feels comfortable actually slipping into his Scottish accent with. He doesn’t try to stop it when he is incredibly tired or incredibly drunk because in the end, it wasn’t like Enoch didn’t have a thick accent all the time.

Surprisingly, Enoch is the one that has to patch Henry up a lot. For being a doctor, he really has no idea how to take care of himself or how to deem a wound serious enough to treat, or potions dangerous enough to not test on himself. Enoch always patches him up and Henry always melts into his hands like an ice-cube by a candle. By the rare instances that Enoch does get hurt while on duty, he loves watching Henry fretting over him.

(Plus, he can freely demand as many kisses as he wants when he is bedridden because Henry can’t complain about it).

They are the same height-- or Enoch is slightly taller, but Henry wears heeled shoes so they don’t really notice until Henry takes the shoes off and suddenly he feels like Enoch became a goddamn tree. Enoch loves those moments more than he could possibly describe.

Enoch manhandles Henry a lot. He stays up late and refuses to go to bed? Enoch throws him over his shoulder and takes him to bed. Henry is teasing him or they are play fighting? Henry squeals as he suddenly get picked up bridal style. Enoch is incredibly strong and Henry weighs like... Nothing. Plus, his squeals are incredibly endearing.

Sometimes Enoch will wake up in the morning only to see Henry already awake playing with Ralphie and Zosi, and sometimes Enoch will swear that Henry only started dating him to steal his dog.

(Henry will only partially deny that).

Wipple and Jenkins once went on a surprise visit to Enoch’s apartment, having gotten a spare key each “for emergencies” (or more like for whenever they feel like annoying their friend). The first thing they saw was Henry and Enoch cuddled up on the couch. Enoch politely told them to get out of his apartment and not speak of this. For once, Wipple and Jenkins kept to that promise (although they did tease him a lot afterwards but hell, if their friend is just going to around dating a man like that it sure as hell should be someone they like as much as Dr. Jekyll). 

Somehow, they managed to keep their relationships quite a well-kept secret for many, many years. People only started to get suspicious when both the doctor and the sergeant conveniently retired at the same time and moved out of London. They took their pick-pack and moved into a manor at the outskirts of Edinburgh, forgetting their past life in London. They still kept in touch with their old friends, however, who often came to their home on vacation during the summers.

Just let me have Enoch becoming a grumpy old gay and Henry the tired old gay and just let me have them be happy pls <3

Oohoohohh. Give me tired old Enoch and Henry-- both with grey hair and wrinkled faces-- finding a young orphan on the streets when they are buying the groceries. Give me 60/70+ year old Enoch and Henry becoming dads <3<3<3

[paper-n-ashes]

sparks and embers - chapter 6

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron 

Chapter 6 - Ruin

Words: 5.9k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Mentions of war/death, kissing, a healthy dose of the ‘sharing a bed’ trope, ANGST, sexual education because who doesn’t want to read about that in fanfiction, vague description of a female medical procedure

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

~

A softened sigh left me, knowing it was probably time to let Poe say his piece. He’d been so silent until now that I felt compelled to hear what had been stirring inside his mind while I’d held him in quiet contempt.

“Alright. I’m listening.”

He flicked on one of the dimmed lamps next to the bed, a gentle glow illuminating the room, watching as he proceeded to carefully extricate himself from under the sheets, the soreness as a result of the rehab we’d performed today now evident in his concentrated expression.

I drew myself up into a seated position on the sofa as he made his way to sit on the small table at my front, not attempting to meet my eyes until he’d slowly placed himself down on the metal. His face was less than a meter from mine, pupils drifting upwards until finally, our stares locked.

“I’m sorry,” he declared, his words heavy. “I understand why you’re angry. I get it, okay? Years of battle after battle, fight after fight, it becomes difficult to consider those working under the First Order’s control as people. People with families, loved ones, even children. They appear as targets, there simply to be eliminated. And it’s you or them. Either you perish, or you put the rational thought into the back of your mind and fight back.”

Poe glanced down, fixated to the floor, his jaw tight. “I do think about it sometimes, the people I’ve... murdered. I’ve spent sleepless nights wondering if killing in the name of freedom was a good enough reason to send people to an early death. When you don’t see their faces it’s…. easier. You don’t see the bloodshed, the corpses. You just see the fiery explosion of their ships fading into the black void of space.”

I stayed rigid in the sofa, hands clutching the into cushions. It was difficult to hold down the simmer of anger that boiled in my stomach, since everything so far only reinforced what I felt like I’d determined hours ago. Even while my demeanour remained stormy, Poe continued.

“All I heard in my childhood was my father reminding me of the way he and my mother fought for what they believed to be right. Both of them lived and battled through a time like ours, under the thumb of a regime hungry for power, sparing no innocents in their pursuit of it.” He became lost in memory, the aura drifting around him stained with a subtle sorrow. “‘People were hurting. People were suffering. Your father and I couldn’t sit and do nothing.’ That’s what my mother had told me, a child of two, as her reasoning for joining the Alliance in their efforts to push back against what threatened all type of freedom in this galaxy. My parents offered to sacrifice their lives on the tiniest shred of hope that me, and every other being on every planet, would see peace in their lifetime.”

His eyes finally shifted back to focus on mine. They were determined, yet soft, the chocolate fibers of his irises melting together. “I just... wanted to be like her. Like them. I wanted to do what they did. I wanted them to be proud of me, to have faith that their legacy would live on after they were gone. To provide freedom and peace like they had. Even if that meant sacrificing my own life, even if that meant killing those who opposed it. I had to. I had to join the people that wanted the same thing as me.”

A growing ferocity began to radiate, his voice severe. “I witnessed so many of my fellow soldiers, my friends, die thoughtlessly at the hands of others. And I wanted them to feel the same pain that I felt. Is it hypocritical? Of course, I know that. Is it cruel? Yes, murder is rarely not. But it's in the name of protection, defiance against control from an overpowering force. Those who fight with the First Order, who take over planets and kill innocents for the sake of power, they know what they’re doing. They know the consequences, the outcome, the hold the galaxy will be strangled under if they succeed. And they do it anyway. Our cause isn’t more noble, it’s self-defence. We’re trying to protect the ones who aren’t able to fight back, and those who don’t deserve to be born into a world that will crush them into submission.”

Poe’s features turned darker, leaning in close. “I will never stop thinking about the lives I’ve taken. I will never not hold myself accountable for the sins I’ve committed. But I will also not sit and do nothing. I don’t need you to accept it, but at least try to understand. You and I want the same thing, in the end, to save as many people as possible in our short lifetime. I’m just doing the best I can to see that through.”

While I instinctively took a breath in preparation to speak, nothing came. He’d rendered me speechless.

I had no reply to give, no counterargument, no flaw to point out. His honesty floored me, raw emotion and long-felt guilt rising up for me to observe so openly. The pain behind his eyes seemed so much more acute than any of the other injuries he’d sustained, not trying to shield it from my view as he spoke.

I tried to find words, anything to articulate my forgiveness. Because I did understand. He’d made me see it, the same anguish over death that I felt. But he’d also made me realise what a coward I was.

Against the people who would kill him or control him, he fought back. While I hid myself away under the guise of selflessness.

I thought I was the hero of my story, giving up my home, my old life, for the benefit of the downtrodden people of this planet. In reality, I was a scared little girl, too gutless to push back against those I, and so many others in this galaxy, feared. And here Poe was, putting himself in harm’s way, every day, in the hopes that he could take away our fear forever.  

He began to rise in front of me, taking my lack of reply as an answer in itself. He seemed despondent, his face sullen as he turned to limp back to the bed.

A different kind of fury coursed through me, fury at myself for how easily I’d judged him, at how cruelly I’d treated him.

I couldn’t let the night end this way.

I picked myself up from the sofa and quickly lunged at his wrist, pulling him to face me. He was surprised, glancing with wide eyes to where my hand had caught him, then to my face. I tried desperately to convey it there, everything I wanted to say, struggling to find my voice. Poe waited for me to speak the words I clearly had sitting on the edge of my tongue, but everything I conjured didn’t seem to be enough, the jumbled thoughts swirling incoherently in my mind, never letting me quite grasp onto them long enough to form exactly what I needed to express.

Tension filled the space between us, thick and overwhelming. I soon began outlining the lines of his face, the crease currently stuck in his brow, the curve of his nose, the contour of his jaw, the arch of his lips.

My hands found themselves catching each side of his face, pulling his mouth to mine in a desperate kiss.

I’d held it back for so long, too long, now unable to deny the burning urge to melt my lips into his. He was alarmed at first, his mouth frozen from movement as he comprehended my sudden attack.

Yet quickly he was syncing his lips fluidly with mine, a hand rising to clutch the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His casted arm curled around my waist, pressing my body into his, feeling the heat radiating off his chest.

The fire in my lower abdomen roared into bright red flames again, spreading into the rest of my body like molten lava. He tasted even better than I’d imagined, our tongues beginning to find each other through parted mouths. Fingers moved into his hair, hungrily grasping at the curled strands, causing a low moan to seep from his throat. The sound made me even more forceful in my need for his lips to be connected with mine, barely having time to breathe in-between our eager kisses.

I wanted to have him, all of him, so deeply it was painful, the searing burn lighting up in my veins.

Don’t do this Alexys. It will ruin you.

My breath hitched as I reluctantly pulled away, looking up, seeing his pupils swollen. He was cautious then, moving his hand from my neck to push a strand of hair behind my ear, almost if at any moment I would flee from his embrace.

And that’s what half of me was begging to do, the other screaming at me to lock our lips together again. I felt split into two, a cracking beginning to divide me roughly in the middle.

I could see Poe searching through my gaze, trying to assess my thoughts, whether it was safe to continue. He leaned in gradually, testing my reaction. I didn’t recoil this time. I didn’t want to.

His lips melted into mine, less insistent than before, although somehow just as intimate. Inhibitions lowered, my hands slid down to his chest, noticing the hard muscles underneath my palms and feeling the fire inside me surge. I wanted to feel the bare skin underneath, to have it pressed against my own. To explore the other parts of him covered by clothes. To forget even for a short time that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this.

Poe gently withdrew, leaning his forehead into mine. “I know.”

“Know what?”

He exhaled a long breath. “I know you don’t want to do this.”

I replaced my hands to his cheeks. “You have no idea how much I want this. How much I want you.” The truth of the words made me feel both vulnerable and safe, for the first time giving in to the yearning I’d hoped to keep locked inside my chest.

He tensed, a slight tremble in the arm that curved around my body. But his face grew sombre, almost... sad. “You don’t. Not completely. I can feel you wanting to hold back,” he murmured. “I can feel your fear.”

I swallowed hard, unable to refute him. “…I’m sorry. I want to. But I just… I can’t."

We both looked down, my confirmation making the tone of our connection shift. He was silent for what felt like a long time, and we stayed motionless in our embrace, neither wanting it to end, knowing it was inevitable that we would have to part.

“Why?” he breathed. “Why are you afraid?”

I wanted to be honest with him, like he had been for me, so much the sensation felt like it was clawing out from inside me, determined to burst through the skin. But there was a barrier there, one I had forged long ago. Unyielding and impenetrable to anything or anyone.

Although, I felt another realisation simmer to the surface of my mind, one that was not nearly as exposing, but still true.

“You’re going to leave. And I have to stay here. I don’t… I don’t want that to hurt any more than it has to.”

It seemed to hit him then, like he hadn’t let the thought enter his mind before. The awareness of our predicament shone brightly in his eyes, a light switch flickering on.

His hand moved to my cheek, grazing his thumb softly against the skin, my heart throbbing inside its cage at his light touch. I watched as eyes scanned over my face, back and forth, as if memorising the features. It was then I knew he’d come to the same conclusion.

It wouldn’t be long before we would part, most likely to never see each other again. If we went any further, if we crossed that line, the pain of saying goodbye would become so much more unbearable.

Almost simultaneously, we let our hold on each other loosen, the disappointment in the air almost palatable on my tongue. The smouldering inside had burnt out, suffocated by the gloom weighing heavy in my chest. Poe took my hand in his, his eyes pleading. “Can I ask one thing of you?’

I moved my head in a slow nod.

“Sleep in this bed with me tonight. Just sleep. I promise.” It was an earnest request, his face imploring and unguarded.

In contempt of the voice in my head bellowing at me that this was a terrible idea, I agreed. “Okay.”

Together we tentatively walked to each side of the mattress, making no rush to slip under the covers and settle into the pillows. I faced away, fearing if I looked at Poe's charming face any longer, I would surrender to the pull of desire that never seemed to relent. I didn’t know how I was ever going to be able to fall asleep like this, his body radiating an energy that vibrated into the space between us, keeping me all too aware of his presence.

There was movement, a dip in the mattress, Poe’s arms curling around my torso, pulling me close. His face buried itself into my hair, the warmth of his gradual exhale sending charged shivers down my spine. Placing my arms over his, silently accepting his embrace, I felt my heart thump a calming glow through my chest, all the way to the end of my limbs.

I’d never felt so peaceful, so whole, becoming lost in the comfort of his hold, wishing I could bask in it forever.

But reality bit at me, cold and uninvited, reminding me of the goodbye I would have to give soon enough.

*

We were still entangled when consciousness came again, the dim light of early sunrise leaking through my window. Poe’s arms circled around me, my body fitting perfectly into his.

He was still asleep, his face resting just at the back of my head, slow breaths bristling into my hair. I relished the feeling of it all, trying to commit it to my memory.

I stayed there, motionless, waiting for time to run out, knowing I would be chasing the feeling of this in the months, maybe years, to come. Thinking about his future absence made me terrifyingly lonely, even with his arms wrapped around now.

Eventually the seconds ticked down to my chronometer alarm buzzing, rustling Poe awake from his slumber. I assumed he would begin to move, pulling away, this one night that bonded us together finally ending. Yet he stayed as unmoving as I had been, the only indication he had awoken the increased depth of his inhale, a small tense of his muscles. I went to move, to switch the screeching sound off, but he clutched me back into his chest, squeezing tight.

As much as my heart thumped at the pressure of his hips into mine, the noise of my alarm was grating. “Let me turn it off,” I whispered. “I’ll come right back.”

Poe loosened his grip reluctantly, allowing me to reach over to the screeching machine and mute its sound. I settled back comfortably into his arms again, as he nuzzled his face into my neck, lips faintly placing a kiss on the skin.

“Poe… please… don’t…”

His sigh whistled past my neck. “Come with me, when I leave.”

It annoyed me, his fleeting demand so easily spoken. As if I could suddenly give up all that encompassed my life before he appeared, the beings that depended on me. But his voice was so sincere, so entreating in the early morning, that the irritation dashed away from the forefront of my mind.

“You know I can’t do that.”

He acknowledged my answer in the shift of his body from around me, moving himself out of the bed we had shared for the night and leaving me alone underneath the sheets.

It burned, the unprecedented disconnection of his shape from mine, my chest forming into a black hole in the realisation I might never feel him that close again.

I wanted to let my emotion to take over, to give in to the pain that rushed to me now as the finality of our night cradled together became evident. But I refused to release it, my resolve from the night before holding strong. I knew I’d made it harder by giving in to Poe's innocent plea of sharing a slumber within his embrace, but I wasn’t going to let our farewell completely ruin me.

With a forced composure, I rose from my bedside, focusing on the appointments scheduled to fill my day. Through my haze I recalled many of them being young female patients in need of birth control. I would somehow have to shut Poe away, wanting to give these women the privacy they deserved.

*

Poe and I appeared to use the ‘freshers at the same time, the searing heat I usually liked being showered with restrained no matter how high I pushed the temperature button. Eventually I’d readied myself for the workday ahead, deciding on a pencil skirt and lightened blue blouse tucked into the waist, working my hair into a ponytail.

It was when I’d begun making breakfast, for both myself and all the company that I kept in the clinic at the moment, that Poe emerged back into my quarters in a set of dark black hospital clothes. I glanced at him only briefly as he entered, hearing him pull out a chair, not daring to look at his face yet.

“Smells good,” he uttered, breaking the silence that existed in exemption to the sautéed chicken eggs and nuna bacon sizzling in the large pan in front of me.

“It’s almost ready,” I remarked, feeling completely the disconnection between us in his tone. Half of me was glad he accepted the separation we needed to make, the other mourning the severed bond we had formed in the connection of our bodies. But I had to let it go, whatever was left of the fragile link that survived the night.

I continued preparing the hot meal, separating the foodstuff between Poe and Vixur’s crew. Once I’d gently placed a share in front of Poe at the table, a smile meeting him fleetingly, I took the rest with me, balancing the four dishes on my hands and forearms, moving cautiously through the hallway.

With impeccable timing Vixur and his students were conversing between each other, obviously having woken just before I came to greet them.

“I’ve got breakfast for you all,” I announced, setting it down at the meeting table across from my computer. It was generally used as a place I could sit with patients and their families when giving them their diagnosis or explaining treatment plans, but today it would have to work as a secondary dining table. All four men jabbered back thankyous as they moved quickly to sit and eat, their appreciation evident in the way they gulped down the meal without hesitation. I returned to my quarters to find Poe picking lazily at his food, only a few bites eaten.

“Does it taste bad?” I asked from behind him, before circling to my seat at the table.

He looked up swiftly, as if I’d startled him. He must have been deeply lost in thought not to hear me treading down the hallway.

“It’s delicious,” he urged. “I’m just… not that hungry.”

“Are you feeling alright? Are you still sore? Are you-“

“Alex, I’m fine,” he interrupted. “You can’t fix a bad mood with any of your treatments.”

I looked at him curiously. “Bad mood?”

Did I do that to him?

“Did you not sleep well?”

He didn’t answer me right away, a subtle scowl settling in his lips. “It was actually... the most restful sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

I fought the urge to beam at him, a smile waiting to form, but the gloomy expression he wore held it down. I had to agree with him - it truly was the most comfortable rest I’d experienced in recent memory. And knowing I would never feel that peaceful, dreamless slumber in his arms again made me fully understand why he was frowning.

“Thank you so much for the meal Alex. I just... don’t have an appetite right now.” Poe rose from his seat and took his plate to clean, his sombre mood spilling into my body and taking over. Wringing his hands dry, He turned back to me. “Is it still alright if I keep using your office to continue working on BB-8?”

I nodded. “It would actually be preferable. Most of my patients today are women, and I need privacy for their appointments. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out, okay?”

Poe understood what I’d only hinted at. “Sure thing. I won’t step a foot out that room without your permission.”

A kind smile formed on his lips, but it fell as he moved from my quarters, leaving me to my breakfast, which now seemed extremely unappetizing.

*

“Well, Kaia, you’ve got a couple of options,” I started. It was my 5th appointment of the day, and I was starting to lose all hope in the young generation that followed mine. “You can get the implant, which lasts 5 years and protects you from pregnancy. But it can be a painful procedure, and unfortunately the implant itself is quite expensive. There are injections which last 3 months, but you’ll have to see me again in that time frame. I know that’s hard for you being from the South village. But there’s always prophylactics, which your partner has to use, every separate time you want to be intimate.”

Kaia was a 17-year-old human girl who had obviously not been taught any helpful sex education. Although, that wasn’t uncommon in these villages.

“But, like,” she began to question. “Can’t he just, like, not, um, finish in there?”

I drew in a deep breath. This wasn’t the first time I’d explained this today. “Technically yes, if he withdraws from you before that moment comes, it does lessen the chance of pregnancy. But Kaia, there’s a lot of fluid already leaking from him before then, fluid that can contain sperm. It doesn’t protect you. Not fully.”

Kaia was thoughtful, taking in my words. “But what if he doesn’t want to use the sheath?”

“Well... that’s his decision. But then you have to make yours. A decision that you’re more than allowed to make. One night could lead to either a future of motherhood or even diseases that could cause a great deal of damage to your body.”

“Ew,” Kaia recoiled. “I mean, I get what you’re saying. But Miss Jago, haven’t you ever been so swept up in the moment that you didn’t think about any of that?”

My jaw clenched, catching me off guard with her question. None of the other women had posed it to me. “It’s not been an issue for me,” I said flatly.

“Because of the birth control, right?” she surmised. “Which one do you use then?”

Oof, caught me out again.

“I don’t have the need for it. Kaia, this is not about me-”

“Wait, what?” she gasped. “But you’re so pretty?”

I soaked my voice in its professional tone. “This is your appointment Kaia, we’re not here to discuss my personal life.”

Kaia refused to comply. “But you’ve done it, right?”

I sighed, irritated. “Yes Kaia, but we took all the necessary precautions.”

“Well that doesn’t make it sound very fun,” Kaia huffed.

I tried desperately to hold back the aversion wanting to show on my face. It hadn’t been fun. It was clunky, awkward and somewhat painful. And I felt a spike of envy that this teenager already seemed to have had better experience with the opposite sex than I did.

“Look, your options are there. If I had to choose one, and I was with a partner I could trust had nothing that could spread to me, I’d go with the implant.”

She contemplated my advice, pulling her hands up to let her chin rest on them. “I think you’re right Miss Jago. But my parents would never help me pay for it.”

“That’s alright,” I replied, already knowing the home situation Kaia found herself in. She’d made the trek to my clinic alone, without her parent’s knowledge, just to see me for this single reason. I doubted they even knew she had a boyfriend. “How about I put the implant in today, and we figure out payment later?”

Kaia’s face lit up, eyes brimming with delight. “Really?”

I smiled at her and nodded.

“Thank you!” she squealed, face barely containing her excitement.

Really, this was for both her benefit and my own. I wasn’t about to face her parents when it would ultimately be me providing the news their daughter was pregnant. I didn’t want Kaia to go through that, a young pregnancy in a poor village after her parents would most likely cast her out.

“Remember I said this can be a painful procedure, and you’ll be sore for a day or two afterwards.”

Kaia nodded, understanding, yet unable to hold back her joy.

*

I worked my way through the process of setting her implant, my mind on autopilot while I thought more about the question Kaia innocently queried. I’d never come close to the type of desire that would have caused me to throw away all caution and rational thought. Not until-

“Hey Alex!” I heard from the other side of the curtain I’d drawn for Kaia’s discretion. “I know I said I wouldn’t come out until you said, but I’ve got something I need to show you.”

Poe’s voice was exuberant and proud, annoyingly unaware of the fact I had my hand in a very delicate place. My eyes shot to Kaia’s, her cheeks already flushing red with mortification.

“Poe!” I fumed, not hiding my anger. “I asked you to do one thing!”

I sensed his panic from behind the fabric separating us. “Kriff! Sorry!” His voice changed when he spoke next, a hurried whisper. “BB, come back here! We can’t show her yet!”

A streaming mechanical movement could be heard in my periphery, turning my head to see a shadow moving along the bottom of the curtain. I took the moment to stop what I was doing, covering Kaia with a sheet.

I was thankful I did that when the BB-8 droid slip through a break in the drape, caring little for what Poe had ordered him to do. His little head sat hovering above his balled body, for the first time actually staying in position. The photoreceptor, which looked like a singular eye, was also finally lit as he zoomed closer. While an impressed smirk started to beam as I realised Poe had managed to get his little friend working, it was rapidly overtaken by irritation at the droid’s lack of courtesy.

Poe was cursing under his breath, then apologetic. “Alex and uh, patient, I am so sorry. BB, get out of there!” BB-8 let out a few indiscernible beeps, a language I didn’t understand, although Poe seemed to. “I don’t care! They need privacy. You can see her later!” he hollered.

The droid made what sounded like a high-pitched huff as its head dropped, like it knew it had been scolded. Its head swivelled around on top it’s body and rolled away, again sliding through the break in the curtain.

“Come on, back this way.” I listened to the combination of footsteps and mechanical whirring move back into the hallway, a door eventually clicking closed. Looking apologetically back to Kaia, her face was still stunned at the intrusion.

“I am so sorry. I told him to stay put until my appointments were over. It’s okay if you want to stop for a moment,” I offered, trying to stay as calm as possible.

Kaia blinked purposefully a few times before being able to focus back to me. “No it’s okay. I’m ready.”

I admired her composure, while I remained silently boiling under the surface.

*

“What the hell Poe?” I snarled, barging into my office where Poe sat, seemingly interrupting a conversation he was having with BB-8. I’d clawed my anger into submission for the rest of Kaia’s appointment, but now it was ready to surge outward.

Poe stood, arms held up in surrender. “I know! I’m sorry! I didn’t think, and it was just really bad timing.” BB-8 beeped in what sounded like agreeance, rolling around from behind the office desk into my view.

“It was the worst timing!” I snapped. “That girl was 17, in a very vulnerable position, and you scared the living daylights out of her!”

“I know, and I can’t apologise enough Alex, really!” His face was pleading, brown eyes soft yet desperate. “I was just so excited about BB working again, and I wanted to show you.”

His sincerity disarmed me, my fury sizzling down, suffocated by his apology. I took a slow breath in, eyes closed, reigning it in further. “Please don’t disregard my instructions again,” I grumbled.

He nodded, as did BB-8, and my eyes focused on the droid. He was oddly cute in his appearance, his small beeps already annoyingly adorable. “Hello,” I greeted, all frustration now clean from my voice. “My name is Alexys.” I kneeled down to his eye level and he immediately wheeled directly in front of me, beeping somewhat of his own introduction.

“He said it’s nice to meet you,” Poe clarified, still hesitant at the easy change in my mood.

I looked up at him, curious. “You can understand those sounds he makes?”

“Most of it,” Poe answered. “It’s a form of Binary. Having him with me for so long helped me grow accustomed to the pitch and time changes in his beeps.”

My eyebrows rose, fascinated. “That’s so impressive.” BB-8 squealed in uneven time, his eye looking over to Poe, who almost looked bashful. “What? What did he say?”

He shot BB-8 an irritated look before meeting his eyes to mine. “It’s nothing important. His circuits are still a little fried.”

I wasn’t convinced, but then again I didn’t speak droid. "I'm glad you got him working,” I said earnestly, pleased there hadn’t been any type of casualty from his crash.

Poe sighed, relieved. “Me too. He’s the best co-pilot I’ve ever had.”

BB-8 whistled happily, evidently pleased with the praise, and its sweetness made me smile.

“Alexys?” Vixur suddenly called, his voice echoing down the hall. “Are you back there?”

I left Poe and BB-8 without a word, finding Vixur standing at the hallway entrance, his clothes smeared in dirt and dark grease. “Everything okay?”

Vixur nodded, evidently tired, still an accomplished grin filled his face. “We’re done actually. The comm-tower’s fixed.”

I wanted to smile back, to show my appreciation for his hard work, but it all became too hard to fake anymore.

This was it, the beginning of my goodbye to Poe. He would now be able to contact the Resistance, his friends, and he would soon be gone from my life just as suddenly as he arrived.

I forced the tears back as I hugged Vixur, doing all I could to hide my pain and show some kind of gratitude for the selfless work he had done.

Somehow Vixur sensed the turmoil simmering through me, patting my back softly. He pulled out of our embrace, speaking softly enough so Poe wouldn’t hear. “You needed this done for him, didn’t you?”

I nodded, the sadness hard to contain on my face. Vixur’s own expression was sympathetic as he squeezed my arm reassuringly. I didn’t need to explain anything, he just seemed to know.

“If it’s meant to be, you’ll find each other again.”

I drew in a long breath, furiously smothering the need to cry. I wanted to thank him more, for giving his time to me for little in return, but I couldn’t say the words out of fear the sudden sorrow would overwhelm me if I spoke out loud.

Vixur understood this, giving me a caring smile as he took his leave. “Well, we best be heading back to the village. I’ll see you sometime soon Alex. If I don’t, I wish you luck.”

And he was gone, the clinic door closing behind him, leaving me frozen in dread. A large part of me was reluctant to tell Poe the ‘good news’, but he’d waited long enough for his rescue from this planet.

I didn’t need to turn around to know he’d slinked out of the office to find me stuck where I stood, BB-8’s soft whirring following him.

“The comm-tower is ready, isn’t it?” Poe asked gently.

I forced myself to smile as I turned around, Poe’s expression not showing the relief I would have expected.

“Sure is,” I replied, the hint of quiver in my voice. “You can finally go home.”

I saw Poe’s lip tremble as he too attempted a smile, the disappointment in his eyes more indicative of his actual reaction to my answer.

Neither of us spoke for a long time, BB-8 looking back and forth quizzically, a few unsure beeps finally pierced in Poe’s direction. The sounds knocked us back into reality, as I moved to find the transmitter I’d stashed back into my tech station after determining its redundancy days ago.

The memories felt foreign, like they were from a different age. So little time had changed me so much, making me feel the most unstable and fragile I had felt in so long, on the verge of tipping into an overwhelming pain.

Poe had watched me in silence, unmoving. I eventually shifted the transmitter into his arms, an extremely aged, large box with an array of dusty buttons poking out of the rusted metal.

“It’s old, but it still works,” I insisted in a monotone, the emotion sucked from my voice. Poe only nodded, and gave me one last despairing glance as he turned away, carrying the machine into the study, BB-8 trailing behind him.

When the door closed, I couldn’t hold onto it any longer, the overpowering misery bursting free, its icy presence consuming me in a singular moment, the cold burn stinging as a few tears trickled down my cheeks.

What did I tell you?

The tears came faster at the sound of the voice, it’s condescension only making the suffering more excruciating.

No.

You’re wrong. I’m stronger than this.

I wiped away the errant tears defiantly, pulling myself together at the seams that had broken a few minutes ago, calming my breathing, trying to settle the trembling on inhale.

I’d made it through so much worse, pushed past crushing loneliness, fear and sadness, to make myself more resilient than I was behaving now. And I wasn’t going to let myself be caught in this vortex of emotion any longer.

I will not let this ruin me. 

~

Next Chapter

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[terrm9]

All The World Seems At Ease Tonight

a.k.a. Christmas Fic

Three years of Christmas Eve for Ethan and Chiara.

Warnings: some kissing, some cliché like mistletoes, mutual pining in the first part, other than that just fluff fluff fluff

Words count: 4 300

Author’s note: Here we are, in times when Valentine’s Day fics are being posted, I finished my Christmas Fic. Yay! It was supposed to be made of three equally long parts but I went crazy with the first one (it was my first time writing about Book One and I just truly enjoyed it). However, I hope you enjoy <3

Intern Year

It took longer for Ethan to finally walk the deserted corridor than he expected, but he decided to work on Christmas Eve for a reason – as he did every year – and checking on patients had to be the main priority. Of course it had to.

Yet, his steps carried him more swiftly than usually and he could feel his forehead ache from the constant concerned furrow of his brows. Naveen was feeling especially unwell these past two days and Ethan hated the idea of his older friend left alone and in pain on the day he loved that much.

Not that Ethan understood. Christmas, as every other holidays made no sense to him and if it was up to him, the whole nonsense would be erased and never celebrated again. But Naveen loved the festivities and the ‚merry spirit‘ of them, and so Ethan tried his hardest to keep him company for as long as he could.

Crossing the corridor enough to see the door of Naveen’s room, Ethan’s heart jumped in his chest as he noticed that they were slightly ajar.

Damn the man if he tried to take a walk.

Opening the door to the room fully, a soft breath of relief left Ethan at the sight of Naveen peacefully laying in his bed, his eyes closed but a gentle smile formed on his lips.

And he was not alone.

Ethan’s breath hitched in his throat again.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t form a coherent sentence, he just kept standing in the doorway, devoured by the scene in front of him.

Chiara was sitting at one of the chairs next to Naveen’s bed, her back turned to the door and a small book in her hand.

And she was reading aloud.

„In fact I have no other choice

than, being alive, to live.

And every day,

into its every moment,

I lead this highly destructible body.

And if hope morse-signals: life

while hopelessness outruns possible death,

my decision is made -

I side with hope.

You can find me anytime

near its hidden paths.

Talking or silent.

I guard the human dream.

And I hold out

where I stand.“

Ethan’s throat tightened and he thanked the universe for the fact that the two doctors – the two doctors that meant so much to him – haven’t yet noticed his presence.

He was not sure what exactly made him feel the emotions currently filling his mind, and he could easily blame it on the merry spirit of Christmas, had he believed in it.

Maybe it was the melody of Chiara’s voice as she read the poem, so soft and gentle and beautiful. Or maybe it was a sight of Naveen, sick and weak and dying and yet looking so peaceful.

Perhaps it was the combination of both, the woman that captured his mind more often than he was willing to admit and the man that was like a father to him, spending time together in a perfect harmony, the air around them so serene it made Ethan wonder if his interruption would even be a welcome one.

„This one was my favorite,“ Naveen spoke into the silence, although he didn’t open his eyes.

„You said that after I finished the one before,“ Chiara chuckled softly, closing the book in her hands.

It was a miracle – not that Ethan believed in those – that Naveen managed to laugh at Chiara’s reponse without coughing. They looked almost... normal. As if his life was not ending anytime soon.

„It truly is a pity that there are only so few of his poems translated to English.“

„When you get through this,“ Chiara replied and Ethan hated that he could hear the sad smile in her words, despite not seeing her face at all. He had no right to know her that well. „You should learn the language and translate all of his poems.“

Naveen only hummed in a response, letting them both believe for a blissful moment that he would get through it.

It was the time for Ethan to make them aware of his presence. He coughed politely and stepped inside, doing his best to maintain a stoic mask on his face.

„Ethan!“ Naveen smiled brightly, just as brightly as Chiara did when she noticed Ethan, and for a moment it was easy to forget who they were, where they were.

„What are you doing here, Dr. Ray?“ Ethan asked instead of greeting and almost immediately winced at the choice of his words, knowing that he sounded rather rude.

When truly, he was simply surprised. He was not aware of Chiara working today.

„I am sorry, Dr. Ramsey,“ her bright smile turned into somehow sheepish one and she put the book on her chest, as if it could serve as a shield protecting her from Ethan’s inevitable anger. „All my patients are stable so I stopped by to keep Dr. Banerji company, at least for a while.“

„And what a pleasing company it was!“ Naveen exclaimed, shooting Ethan a reprimanding look, obviously not pleased by his behavior. „Are you finished with your tradition?“

Ethan tensed visibly and only gave away a stiff nod, the last thing he wished to share the tradition with the younger doctor.

„The... tradition?“ Chiara dared to ask despite his less than kind reaction. „I didn’t take you as someone with Christmas traditions.“

„I am not,“ Ethan spoke flatly, sitting on the chair on the other side of Naveen’s bed.

There were seconds of rather awkward silence between them before Chiara stated that she would leave them alone, wished Naveen Merry Christmas while hugging him and left the room.

It was as if warmth of the air went with her.

It didn’t take long for Naveen to chew Ethan out for how he behaved to Chiara – and Ethan noticed the affection, the gentleness lacing Chiara’s name as Naveen said it. He was right, of course. Ethan was hard for no reason and he wasn’t proud of himself, but what was he supposed to do? Ever since getting back from Miami, it was becoming more and more difficult to control his actions with her.

But Naveen was right. He had no right and he should make it all better.

And so after Naveen made it clear he would like to sleep, Ethan checked the schedule to make sure none of Chiara’s friends were working and then with a bated breath clicked on Chiara’s contact.

E: Where are you?

The reply came almost immediately, a sign that there was not emergency – which Ethan wasn’t sure he considered a good sign or not.

C: The on-call room. Why?

It didn’t really make sense to Chiara, why was Ethan texting her, him of all people. If there was an emergency, he could have easily paged her.

The answer to her question came quickly.

E: I am about to grab some take-out. I was wondering if you would care to join me in my office to share a meal.

Saying that Chiara gasped would be an understatement. She had to blink twice to make sure she was not missing a message stating that he sent it to the wrong number. But no.

C: Are you inviting me over for a Christmas dinner?

E: Do not be ridiculous. Do you like Italian kitchen?

C: Sure.

E: 9 PM, my office, then.

And then nothing. Chiara was almost absolutely sure that she was dreaming, because there was no way the same Dr. Ramsey that has been avoiding her ever since the conference would be inviting her for a – definitely Christmas – dinner.

But free food is free food and she would be lying if she said she wouldn’t welcome a distraction. No matter how hard she tried to stay positive, she missed her family terribly today.

And Ethan was a rather pleasant distraction after all.

 At 10 PM, with her risotto eaten, a paper cup filled with an apple juice – the best option for a toast for them -  she managed to get in the cafateria in her hand, Chiara found herself sitting comfortably at the leather couch in Ethan’s office, one of her leg crossed over the another, her white coat shrugged off and hanging over the arm of the couch.

It surprised her to see Ethan next to her, looking almost equally relaxed. One of his arms was draped over the back of the couch and Chiara could feel the warmth radiating from the skin of his hand, on her neck.

"So... is there a point in asking you about the tradition Dr. Banerji mentioned?" Chiara asked after finishing her drink, mischievous sparks dancing in her irises.

"No," Ethan replied immediately, although his voice wasn't nearly as stern as he wanted it to be. The right corner of his mouth twitched slightly, Chiara noticed, as if her question amused him.

Ethan wanted to share it with her, he almost let it slip, but he made a promise in Miami - to her or rather to himself, he didn't know - and damn him if he didn't keep that promise.

Professionals.

That's all they should, all they could, be.

And as if to prove himself wrong in the very next moment, he spoke again, asking a question that professionals shouldn’t want to ask.

"Are you going to share your reason for not visiting your family over Christmas?"

Chiara shrugged, her smile not quite faltering but losing some of its brightness.

He didn’t mean to pry, but he was curious. Chiara mentioned home and family fairly often and back in Miami, he could hear her on the phone with her mother – and it was exactly the kind of call a child and a parent that love each other share.

He found it only logical that Chiara would want to spend Christmas in San Francisco.

“I am not sure I would get that many free days as an intern.”

“All your friends have gotten three free days, so would you. It is not much, but it enough to take a quick trip to San Francisco.”

She laughed softly, her gaze strained with the thought or memories, Ethan didn’t know.

“We don’t celebrate Christmas at home since…” she stopped herself and cleared her throat and it didn’t take a diagnostician to see that she was looking for a way to tell Ethan enough without telling him the whole truth.

“It has been six years since we celebrated in San Francisco. For these last years, me, my mom and my sister travel abroad at the time of Christmas. This year, they are in Singapore,” she chuckled and turned to Ethan, a smile on her face wide, however her gaze still lost in the haze. “I am sure three days wouldn’t be enough for a quick trip to Singapore.”

Ethan laughed shortly at that and shook his head, no that would not, and he fought the urge to ask more, to get to know her more, to tell her about his mother, because professionals.

That is why Chiara hasn’t asked him back, why are you working today?, because he made it clear he wanted to keep things professional and she was not brave enough to push him again.

“I would want to stay in Boston anyway,” she added after a while, looking away again and she was biting her lips nervously.

Ethan didn’t want her to be nervous around him but damn, her teeth sinking into her lower lip and her cheeks flushed slightly and it took the last remnants of his strength to repeat the word in his head, professional, professional, professional.

“Why?” he asked.

“Well I knew that Dr. Banerji would be here and I thought it would be nice to spend some time with him. And I didn’t know if you would be here so,…”

She trailed off, not knowing what else to say and when she turned to Ethan, it surprised her to see how close he has gotten, his whole upper body slouching to her and his face so close she could feel his breath on her face.

And it would be easy to believe that he was only listening intently, that was the reason of his sudden proximity, it would be right to believe so, but Chiara was anything but stupid.

“Ethan,” she exhaled quietly and noticed how his pupils dilated at the sound of his name rolling off her lips.

She raised her hand and rested it on his cheek slowly, waiting for his reaction.

And in that moment, there were many words swirling through Ethan’s mind but professionals was not one of them.

He leaned closer, so close his lips brushed Chiara’s ever so softly and-

-and her pager went off.

Chiara stood up abruptly and took the pager out of her pocket.

“I guess that’s my call,” she smiled and it didn’t go unnoticed by Ethan that she sounded out of breath, that his effect on her was as strong as hers on him and he cursed himself for letting the damn word slip out of his mind.

He also cursed himself for not kissing her earlier, so that he could feel her lips fully before the pager went off.

“Merry Christmas, Ethan,” Chiara smiled at him for the last time and left the office before he could respond.

And Ethan thought that if he could celebrate the Christmas like this, with her, every years, maybe the holiday wouldn’t need to be erased.

 Second Year

“So you already finished this tradition of yours today?” Chiara asked with that sweet, innocent smile on her lips as she stood between Ethan’s legs as he kept sitting on his chair, gently removing his glasses.

Only then she kissed the bridge of his nose softly, caressing his cheek with such care it almost didn’t make sense to Ethan.

“Yes,” he smiled back at her, enjoying their position and the fact that for once, Chiara was above his eye level and he had to raise his head to meet her gaze.

“And you are not going to tell me what it is?”

“No,” now it was Ethan’s turn to smile all-too-innocently and he knew Chiara was burning with curiosity.

He wouldn’t mind telling her now, but he would lie if he said that he was not enjoying seeing his Chiara, usually so composed and calm, freaking out about his secret Christmas tradition.

She leaned down to capture his lips and Ethan wondered if that was a part of her plan because if she’d continue to roll her tongue like that, he would tell her everything she would wish to hear.

And she knew that.

Ethan grabbed the back of her thighs, making her stumble slightly and sit in his lap and soon their kiss turned into proper make out session, his hands roaming her bare torso hungrily while her hands tugged on his hair, leaving them in the disheveled state she adored so much.

Before their Christmas evening could turn into the gala’s sequel – the memory still fresh in Ethan’s mind – Chiara pulled out with a reluctant sigh.

“My mom and Alicia told me to say Merry Christmas from them to you.”

Ethan nodded in thanks, however he couldn’t contain a sigh leaving him. He knew Chiara missed her family.

“Do you regret staying here instead of going with them?”

“Are you crazy?” Chiara laughed and unlike last year, Ethan remembered, her laugh was sincere and full of joy. “I am cold enough here in Boston. I wouldn’t wish to freeze to death in freakin’ Iceland.”

Not able to stop himself from rolling his eyes, Ethan let out a soft laugh too, however he had to agree with Chiara – the woman was cold all the time. He couldn’t imagine her hitchhiking through Iceland – a trip that evolved from what Chiara called ‘her mom’s middle age crisis’ idea’.

“And again, with the time off I took after the senator’s attack and Edenbrook’s closing, I wouldn’t be able to leave for three weeks.”

“You know I would sign off your vacation, three weeks or not,” Ethan mumbled into her neck.

Chiara smacked his arm lightly, an amused grin on her lips.

“And that, Dr. Ramsey, is not at all professional.”

Ethan wanted to argue that he could think of many not at all professional activities that happened in this very office, but sometimes not reminding himself of his terrible failure at staying colleagues was for the best.

Not that this relationship was by any means a failure. Letting himself fail his principles for once in his life turned out to be the best decision he has ever made.

“I knew you would be working,” Chiara added much more seriously and she was, of course, right. There were reasons Ethan was dedicated to work every Christmas Eve, reasons he never talked about but were enough for him to not to break the habit.

“And you would rather spend your Christmas at work with me, than in Europe with your family?”

“Yes,” Chiara stated simply, not a single hint of doubt in her voice. None.

Who knows how much longer we are going to work in this hospital together, she thought but didn’t say it aloud, not wanting to ruin the bright mood.

Checking his watch, Ethan gestured at Chiara to stand up and followed her in her tracks, trying his best to tame the mess his hair has become.

“I am going to pick up the food. Are you going to join me?”

“Nope, I still need to check on some patients. I will accompany you to the nurses’ station.”

They left the office together and Ethan still couldn’t quite comprehend this new reality for them, the life where they walked the corridor freely next to each other, Ethan’s hand put on Chiara’s lower back gently, and he didn’t need to worry about anyone seeing them.

“Dr. Ray, Dr. Ramsey,” Marlene smiled at them from the desk and noticing Ethan’s relaxed shoulders, she dared to go on. “Didn’t you want to spend your Christmas outside of the work?”

Chiara shrugged and smiled widely, not giving Ethan a chance to ruin Marlene’s mood by his sour response – it didn’t matter how relaxed he was, he couldn’t stand people asking him personal questions.

“We like to work. Someone has to do it even today, right?” she smiled at the nurse.

“Maybe you could engage at least in some form of Christmas cheer, hm?” Marlene gestured at the green adornment above their heads and Chiara couldn’t contain her smirk when she noticed what it was.

Mistletoe.

“Absolutely not,” Ethan stated, his arms crossed at his chest. “We are at work. I will not fuel rumors by indulging in such public display of physical affection.”

Chiara raised an eyebrow at him and Ethan was not sure if she was trying to remind him that the office’s walls were still made out of glass and therefore their earlier escapades could be very well considered a public display of physical affection, had anyone come by, or-

“Ah,” Marlene laughed loudly. “You didn’t mind to fuel those rumors at the gala not even three weeks ago, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan’s cheeks flushed brightly but it was clear at the moment that those two women would not let him leave that easily.

Sighing reluctantly, he planted a quick – yet gentle – kiss at Chiara’s cheek and muttering ‘food’ left the corridor.

“What are you doing to the poor man, Dr. Ray,” Marlene whispered as she watched his retreating form, winking at the young redhead she came to like very much.

 Third Year

It seemed like it would become their very own tradition, to share their Christmas dinner behind the walls of Ethan’s office.

Chiara was extremely tempted to join her mother and Alicia this year – after all, it is at least warm on Mauritius and Chiara deperately wished to feel warm for a while. But with Leland not that approving of her relationship with Ethan – with her boss, as he reminded them – she wouldn’t dare to ask him for two weeks of vacation.

And maybe she was secretly thankful that he made that decision for her – she missed her family, but she couldn’t imagine sending Ethan beach pictures while he would be working. And she knew he would be working.

It took her by surprise, by the most beautiful surprise, when Ethan asked her if she wouldn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve in San Francisco – there was no doubt they would get three or four days off for that – and that he would accompany her, if she would like that.

Only then she found out he exchanged messages with her mother rather regularly and they came up with the idea together, actually.

And so there she was – walking down the long corridor of renewed Bloom Edenbrook’s hospital, a patient chart in one of her hands and a Christmas card she got from one of the patient in the other. Chiara only needed to drop the charts off at the nurses’s station and she was free to enjoy her take-out with Ethan for as long as their pagers would remain silent.

After checking everything twice and making sure she wasn’t needed anywhere, she stepped into the office, smiling at the sight of a single candle glowing in the middle of Ethan’s desk – maybe the idea of this truly being a Christmas dinner was finally getting on him.

„Before we start,“ Chiara spoke first, taking a seat next to Ethan on a couch. „I saw you leaving a paediatrics wing today and I know you have no patient there. Is that your tradition?“

She normally wouldn’t really care about Ethan being somwhere weird, but this was their third Christmas together and there were many, many attempts on Chiara’s side to get the information out of Ethan through the years, only for him to resist.

And it was beginning to be ridiculous.

„Yes,“ Ethan rolled his eyes but he didn’t really seem anyhow bothered. He hugged Chiara’s waist and put a lingering kiss on her temple, her smell intoxicating him even after years of knowing it. Knowing Chiara.

„So what exactly is it what you do there?“

„I read books to the kids that have to stay here and are alone. I am not dressed as Santa,“ he added quickly, noticing Chiara’s curious eyes. „I just come there, bring some books with me, read them for as long as I can. It’s not much, but...“

Chiara turned to him fully now and whispered: „It is more than much,“ before kissing him softly, pouring all the love she felt into the simple act of their lips meeting eagerly.

And she still wondered, how was it that it was her, that she was the privileged one to see this side of Ethan Ramsey, the side that reads book to sick kids and hugs overwhelmed mothers and buys a candle because he knows his girlfriend loves candles on the Christmas table.

„Didn’t you want to spend this Christmas with Alan?“ Chiara asked between the kisses, genuinely curious – the relationship between two Ramsey men was finally good, after all.

„He knows I will come tomorrow. I wanted to work today.“

„You... wanted to work?“ Chiara leaned back and shot him a confused stare.

She knew that it was Ethan’s habit to work on Christmas Eve, but it never occured to her that it was something he truly wanted.

Ethan leaned into the back of the couch, exhaling slowly before responding.

„I never had anyone waiting for me at home on Christmas. And I made sure, every year, that I would be working on Christmas Eve, because me working meant someone else being able to go home. When I work, it might guarantee another doctor to spend his evening with his family, his kids.“

There was a mix of emotions in Ethan’s eyes, even if his voice was steady – a gentlesness mixed with pain and perhaps even anger.

„I believe that parents should be home for Christmas. I am aware of our job being demanding, but no child should feel left behind because their parents have important job. If there is only one of the fellow doctors that is able to play board games with his kids now because I am here – we are here – working, then yes, I want to work.“

He propped his head on the back and closed his eyes for a while and it stunned Chiara how peaceful he looked, how content. She squeezed his hand, however before she could say anything, Ethan spoke again.

„Until that is something we have, I am more than happy to spend my Christmas Eve’s here with a take-out and you.“

It seemed like he didn’t even realize what he just said, his position, his expression not changed.

But Chiara noticed.

Until that is something we have.

They never really talked about family. Future. They loved each other, there were no doubts about that, and they enjoyed planning the upcoming months of their lives. Chiara knew she wanted to spend her life with Ethan. And deep down she knew that he felt the same – that they didn’t go through that much for him to just let her go.

But the statement left her speechless nonetheless.

It wasn’t even that much about him saying that there might be an option for a family in his future – Ethan changed a lot after all.

It was the way he said, with such easiness, such certainity, without a single doubt, until that is somethig we have.

We. Us.

It was his third Christmas with Chiara and Ethan knew that if it hadn’t been for her, he would still wish to erase Christmas from the existence of an universe.