#The items are what actually made this good otherwise my reaction would have been :| ‘cool not too bad’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

btssavedmylifeblr · 4 years ago

Text

Void - Part 7 (M)

title banner by @rude–jude♡

Genre: Sci-fi with a little angst and a LOT of smut

Pairing: BTS x Reader (yup - all seven)

Summary: You are the only female crew member on a 12 year space mission with seven handsome men. The sexual tension is real, y’all.

Word Count: 10.9k

Part 7 / ?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: explicit sexual content, alcohol masturbation, voyeurism, more non-monogamy

The men at the table stare at you, dumb-founded. Jungkook’s mouth hangs open. Hoseok hides his mouth behind his hand; his eyes are wide with shock. Jimin spins around, trying to gauge the others’ reactions. Namjoon leans back in his chair, face unreadable, his chin resting on his hand as he looks from you to your powerpoint. Jin laughs uncomfortably then clears his throat and silence falls again.

Yoongi speaks first. “You put sources on your powerpoint about how we should all start fucking?”

“It’s important to cite your sources,” you mutter, shuffling your feet.

Taehyung sits up straighter on his cot. “Are you saying we should start fucking you or each other?”

“Well, the bonobos do both. They are fully bisexual. Almost all aggressive contests are settled by sex. Even when two males squabble over a female, they often resolve it by rubbing their genitals together.”

“What?” Hoseok injects. “You want us to start rubbing our genitals together?” His cheeks blush.

“No, no, no.” You shake your head. “I meant you all should have sex with me.” Your own cheeks heat up as you say it. “I can’t control what you do with other people. In an ideal world, it would be both. But it seemed best to start with me.”

Jungkook mouths the words “start with” to himself, still staring at the table.

“But like, how would that work logistically?” Taehyung asks.

“Well, there are seven of you, so that could be like one per day. Take a week off for my period.”

Jimin splutters, whirling to face Yoongi. “Did you put her up to this?”

Yoongi shakes his head, frowning.

“No one put me up to this!” you argue. “This is what I think is best for the mission.”

An explosion of opinions pours out of all the men at once. Hoseok is swearing under his breath. Taehyung is trying to get Jimin’s attention, but Jimin is arguing with Yoongi. Jungkook wants to know how you decide who goes first. Jin says something to Namjoon that you can’t hear.

“So, um…” You struggle to regain command of the room over the chatter. “My period starts tomorrow, so take a few days to think about it.”

“Officer.” Namjoon’s deep voice cuts over everyone else and the conversation at the table ceases. “You and I need to speak privately. Now.”

The commander stands up from the table and gestures toward the door. The rest of the crew looks back and forth between the two of you wearing expressions of shock and confusion.

You avoid their gazes as you follow Namjoon’s direction out into the hallway. He steps out after you, closing the door behind him. A flurry of chatter resumes after the door shuts, but it’s too muffled to hear what the rest of the crew are saying. You and Namjoon stare at each other.

“So…” you say, shifting your weight between your feet.

“Let’s talk in my office,” he says, squeezing past you and moving in the direction of the sleep pods.

You examine him from behind as you follow him to his office, trying to gauge what he’s thinking. Are his shoulders tense? Is he angry with you? Are you about to be scolded?

His office is also his bedroom. And you did just offer to fuck him, no strings attached. But of all your crew, Namjoon is the one that you have the most strictly professional relationship with. His walls are almost as impenetrable as yours. But he is a man, right? And men like sex, right? It would have been more awkward to not include him. This wasn’t about personal feelings. It was about the mission. And you were all in the mission together.

________

Sweat pools at the base of your spine under the hot studio lights. A reporter drums her long red nails on her clipboard as the sound technician adjusts the microphones between interviews.

Press junkets are your least favorite part of the job, made all the worse by your mission director insisting you all dress in full launch gear, despite the launch still being two weeks away.

“This is the last one.” Namjoon turns around from his front and center seat to whisper to the rest of the crew.

Yoongi groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “Why do we have so many of them when they all ask the same questions?”

The eight of you have been trapped in this room all day as a parade of different reporters trail in and ask the same inane questions.

This new reporter opens with a softball. “How’s the food?”

“Good!” Namjoon patiently answers this question for the third time today. “The ICSE has recruited the top food scientists to figure out which foods hold their flavor and nutrition best in long term storage. And our chief botanist here is going to keep us well stocked with fruits and vegetables. Right, officer?” He gestures for you to chime in.

“Yup!” You are grateful to Namjoon for pitching you a question that isn’t about you being the only woman in a crew full of men. You’ve already had to explain how periods in space work twice today (short answer: pretty much the same way they work on Earth). “We have lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, peas, bean, soy, carrots, cabbage, chilis, potatoes, lemons, oranges and strawberries, plus a bunch of fresh herbs. They even found a way for us to grow mushrooms out of our culinary compost.”

The reporter makes a disgusted face at the idea of compost mushrooms and pivots to a new line of questioning. “What will you miss most about home?”

“Why don’t we go around the group?” Namjoon prompts. Even your commander seems to be fading in enthusiasm by this point. “I’m going to miss long walks in the fresh air, and my family, of course.”

Most of the crew answers with some variation of friends and family. Yoongi will miss his brother’s cooking. Taehyung will miss his dog who is going to live with his parents. Jungkook will miss long showers and his mom.

“What’s one personal item you’re taking with you?” she asks.

Namjoon is bringing a Chinese elm bonsai tree that he calls his tiny friend. Hoseok is bringing a stuffed Earth plushie given to him by his niece. Jin is bringing vodka.

The reporter narrows her eyes at the mention of alcohol and leans forward. “So what do you do if you feel a crew member’s judgement has been compromised?”

“We have protocols in place,” Namjoon answers. “Tests of cognitive impairment and such. We’re also coached in what we call “expeditionary behaviors” which are key to maintaining peace and cooperation on board.

Yoongi chimes in. “The key to solving all disputes is our ability to be honest with each other. When there is a problem, we sit down as a group and discuss it.”

“Our readers are saying what a tragedy it is that we are shipping seven of our most eligible bachelors off to space for a decade.” She laughs. “Any broken hearts being left here on Earth?”

“Oh!” Namjoon draws back and looks unsuredly at the rest of the group. This was not a question he was expecting to be asked today. “Umm…” he laughs nervously.

“My mom is devastated!” Jin cracks from the back row and the rest of the crew laughs in relief.

But the reporter doesn’t want to let go of this idea so quickly, so she turns to you. “Well, you must certainly enjoy having such handsome crew members.”

“Uh…” To your complete mortification, you actually blush in response. You clench your fist to try to get a grip. To your right, Hoseok’s hand flinches, as if he can feel the need to hold you back. “I’m going on this mission to find life on other planets.” You grit your teeth. “My only interest in my crew is whether or not they do their jobs.”

The woman shakes her head, laughing. “Doesn’t hurt that they look good doing it.”

_______

Namjoon opens the door to his office and gestures for you to enter. The number of papers on his desk seems to have multiplied, which theoretically shouldn’t be possible.

“I’m going to say three words to you,” Namjoon says as he closes the door behind him. “And then I need you to repeat them back to me: banana, river, finger.”

“Namjoon,” you cross your arms. “I’m not cognitively impaired right now.”

He mirrors your closed stance. “Please repeat the words.”

You sigh. “Banana, river, finger.”

He pulls a piece of paper from his desk and wipes it clean, before handing it to you, along with a pen. “I need you to draw a clock face.”

“Seriously?”

“Set it to quarter past eight.”

“This isn’t necessary, commander,” you grumble as you take the pen and paper, drawing a rudimentary clock face and setting the hands to 8:15. “See?” You hand the paper back to him and he inspects it.

He nods, rubbing his chin. “Repeat the three words again.”

“Banana, river, finger.” You put your hands on your hips. “You think my judgement is compromised?”

Namjoon sighs. “Everything seems to be in order. You must admit, your behavior recently has been uncharacteristic to say the least. Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Well, no, everything is not okay, that’s why I’m doing this.”

He leans against his desk, looking you up and down. “I fail to see how fraternizing with the entire crew will improve things.”

The back of your neck heats up in embarrassment, but you press on. You need the commander to be onboard with your plan.

“You admit we have a morale problem, right?”

He nods. “Hard to suggest otherwise. What with all the recent events.”

“Okay, so I was going through the principles of expeditionary behavior last night as I figured out what to do. Principle One: Communication - talk so you are clearly understood, talk about intentions before taking action, share information freely.”

“I know the principles.” Namjoon interrupts.

“But don’t you see? That’s why I had to call the meeting. Why I had to get everything out in the open, share information freely.”

“That explains why you needed to inform the crew of your relationship with Jimin. It doesn’t explain why you think it would be good to involve everyone.”

“Principle Two: Self-care - manage psychological and physiological health, balance work, rest, and personal time, be proactive to stay healthy and mitigate stress.”

Namjoon arches an eyebrow. “A lack of sex doesn’t damage your health.”

“With all due respect commander, I think it does.”

“There are outlets to relieve sexual urges other than exploiting our only female crew member.”

“Well, they were all trading porn with each other. That’s how this whole thing started.” Namjoon purses his lips in thought. That seems to be new information to your commander. You continue your argument. “Principle Three: Team-care - monitor team for signs of stress and fatigue - which we have a multitude of, cooperate rather than compete, encourage participation in team activities.”

“Are you considering this a team activity?”

“Well, yes. Like the bonobos do.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “Let me speak so I am clearly understood. I can’t prevent you or the rest of the crew from doing what you want to do with your personal time. But I can’t participate in it either. I’m the commanding officer on this ship. It’s inappropriate. We can’t have an equitable relationship.”

“That’s why it’s not a relationship though, it’s just sex. And if everyone involved is consenting...”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Let’s be honest about intent for a minute. Is that really what you want? You want all seven of us?”

“Umm…” Your stomach churns as you are unable to admit that, yes, that is what you want. “I think it’s best for the mission.”

“Part of principle three is to volunteer for unpleasant tasks if they benefit the team. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing right now, officer?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Though embarrassing to admit, boning your attractive colleagues is not an unpleasant task in the slightest.

“You should also consider the fact that whatever forms do get signed will have to be sent back to mission control. And may get out to the press.”

“I thought HR decisions were confidential.”

“Juicy stories have a tendency to find their way out. Especially when they distract from failed missions that added years on to our trip.”

“I understand, commander. Information must be shared freely. I still think this plan is necessary if we’re going to complete this mission successfully.”

“Okay.” Namjoon sighs, dropping his hands to his sides. “It would seem there is no talking you out of it.”

“No, sir. I intend to implement with full commitment.”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute. An immovable object and an unstoppable force.

“So… should I go?”

“Yes, you’re dismissed.”

________

After the press junket is mercifully over, Hoseok catches you in the hallway.

“Hey, you coming to Tae and Jimin’s quarantine party tonight?” Tonight is the last night you all are allowed to see other people before you enter your two-week quarantine prior to launch. “Seems like you could use a drink.”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, leaning against the wall.

“What’s on your mind?” He leans next to you.

“That last reporter, she got in my head.” You rub your forehead.

Hoseok rubs the back of his neck. His jawline tenses as he mulls over what to say.

Hoseok is so handsome. And smart. And newly single. He broke up with his girlfriend a couple of weeks ago before signing the final mission papers. And now he was going to be the one of only seven people in your whole world.

In another life, you would want to date him. You’d be dying to go to a party with him and plot how to get him alone for part of the evening. In another life, you would have fallen in love with him. But in this life, he’d been dating someone else for the whole time you’ve known him. And you have a mission.

What’s most grating is that the gossip columnist isn’t wrong. You’d be hard pressed to find a better set of men anywhere on Earth than the seven you were leaving with. They were all attractive, smart, kind, disciplined, athletic young men. It would be much easier to be entirely professional if you had a crew of balding middle-aged men.

“Do you think it's a mistake? Me going on this mission?” you finally ask.

“What?” Hoseok gasps. “No! Why would you think that?”

“The mission director said it was supposed to be only men. That mixed gender crews are too complicated.”

“Have we ever done anything to make you feel like we don’t view you as a professional?”

“No, no, of course not.” Other than being ridiculously good-looking.

Hoseok’s fingers twiddle nervously. “And we won’t. We’re a team. You’re our colleague. This mission is so much bigger than any one of us. And you’re the best candidate for this position.”

“I’m the only candidate.”

Hoseok smiles. “Well, that’s exactly my point. We’d be lost without our biologist. Besides, you were better than all the male candidates even before they dropped out.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh yes, I do. Are you forgetting how badly you kicked my ass all over organic chemistry? And I was the chem major! It was such a disgrace.” You both laugh.

You smile at the memory: early morning study sessions, Hoseok bringing you coffee in exchange for your homework help.

“Come on,” he insists. “I know you. You can’t not go. You’re going to be the first woman on Europa. It’s been your destiny since college. Don’t you want to see it with us?”

Yes, you wanted to see it so badly. You picture the two of you looking out over the icy surface together.

“Come tonight.” Hoseok insists. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. We won’t mess this up for you.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

_______

You leave Namjoon’s bedroom and climb into your own sleep pod, the question of what mission control or the press know about what’s happening on this ship weighing on your mind.

Unfortunately, googling it for yourself won’t work. It takes between 10 and 20 minutes for a single signal to get from your ship to Earth, depending on exactly where you both are in your orbits. Then it takes another 10-20 minutes to return. Usually if you wanted to research something, you’d submit a formal request to your research assistants back on Earth, who would gather a collection of relevant documents for you and send you a bundle of them all at once. But asking your research assistants to assemble a dossier on your rumored sex life was out of the question. You need someone you can trust.

You pull out your laptop and compose the following email.

Hi Dianna,

How are you doing? I’m sorry I’ve been slow to respond to your messages lately, things have been a bit messy out here. I was wondering if I could ask you a favor. Are there rumors about my personal life going around the ICSE? Or in the press? I was wondering if you’d be willing to run a quick google search and let me know what you find.

Thank you! I hope you and Melissa are doing well.

Dianna should have been on this mission with you. You wish you could talk to her in person. You’ll have to send her a video message when you have more time. But you are interrupted in your thoughts by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Jimin.”

You hit send on the email and open the door.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

You nod and stand to one side to allow him into your pod.

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “So I’m confused.” He runs a hand through his hair as he steps into the pod. “Last night you were mad at me for suggesting you date Taehyung. You said you wouldn’t be passed around between crew members. But now you want to have sex with the entire crew?”

“I’m not being passed around. This is my plan. I’m in control.”

He shakes his head. “The end results seem to be the same though. I don’t understand.”

“This way we don’t have to pretend this is something it’s not. It can just be sex, just release. We don’t have to pretend it means anything more than that.”

“But it means something to me.” Jimin frowns. “I have feelings for you.”

You sigh. “They’re not real though. It’s hormones and boredom. It’s just because I’m the only woman here.”

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is! You didn’t feel this way about me on Earth, right?”

Jimin stammers for a minute. “People can change. Relationships can change.”

“Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t have feelings for me on Earth either and now that they’ve seen me naked they’re suddenly 'in love' with me. That’s not real. That’s just biology. We’re just apes in space with too much time on our hands.”

“Jungkook’s in love with you too?”

“I don’t know. He thinks he is.”

Jimin frowns, but seems less sure of himself. “Is this because I suggested sharing? Cause that was a dumb idea and I take it back.”

“No! You were right. It’s what’s best for the mission.”

“So what? It’s like this or nothing? I have to share you to have any of you?”

You don’t answer him. Currently, no one else has actually signed, so Jimin might get you all to himself anyways.

“Am I… am I not enough?” Jimin asks. “I can be more. I can do better. I can do whatever Yoongi does that you like so much.”

“This isn’t about Yoongi. It’s about the mission.”

“You said you liked me. You said you wanted to be with me. Was that just about the mission?”

“It’s not about what I want.”

“Yeah, yeah… it's about the mission.”

He turns to go, but you catch his hand in yours. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand. All the men are just as touch-starved as you are. It’s probably unfair that you are playing to that now.

You see an idea flash across his face right before he scoops you up into his arms, kissing you passionately. “I’m going to show you,” he whispers between kisses. “I’m going to show it's real. I’m going to be what you need. My feelings are real.”

Then he places you back down and leaves. You lean against the door breathless.

________

Mistake number one: You should not have challenged Jin to beer pong.

Mistake number two: You should not have said goodbye to your parents and dog right before going to a party full of strangers and booze.

Mistake number three: You should not have gone to find Hoseok when you are this drunk and he smells that good.

You collapse onto the couch beside Hoseok, too tired to stand up anymore. Hoseok smiles to see you, face flushed red.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, even though he’s already looking at you. “Hoseok, I have something important to tell you.”

He leans in closer. “Yeah?”

“Europa’s oceans are ninety-six kilometers deep.”

He laughs. “Of course, I know that! I wrote my graduate thesis on Europa’s oceans!”

“Yeah, but like…” You wave your hand. “That’s like soooo deep. Like not intuitive, you know? Like that’s ten times deeper than any ocean on Earth. I can’t even conceive of how deep our oceans are, let alone Europa’s.”

You scoot closer to him on the couch. “That’s like…” You pull out your phone to do some basic math. “That’s like 120 Burj Khalifas!!”

Hoseok nods. “Yes… It is super deep.”

“Stacked on top of each other!” You slap your knee in emphasis.

“Yes, I know!” He laughs again.

You sigh. “Can I tell you a secret?” You lean in closer and put a hand on his thigh. He leans in too. “There just has to be life down there. I know there has to be.”

“I hope so.” He rests his hand on yours.

“We’re going to find it together, you and I.” You grab his hand and squeeze it.

Hoseok looks down at your joined hands and you worry that maybe you’ve gone too far. Maybe tomorrow this will be an awkward and embarrassing moment. But right now it feels nice. His hand is warm. You wonder if it would be too much to lean your head on his shoulder.

But then Hoseok’s phone buzzes in his lap. His ex-girlfriend’s name flashes across the screen and you drop his hand.

“Sorry,” he mutters, getting up off the couch. “I should take this.” He leaves and the couch next you is colder.

“Hey!” Jin stumbles over to your seating area. “Have any of you guys seen Namjoon?”

“I think he went to meet that girl he won’t tell us about,” Yoongi answers from a chair a few feet away. When did Yoongi get here?

“So everyone is getting laid tonight, huh?” Jin laughs.

“Not everyone,” Yoongi mutters, nursing his beer.

“Don’t be such a grump, Yoongi. It’s basically our last night on Earth! Take advantage!” Jin laughs before wandering back into the crowd.

“I’m not getting laid tonight either!” You yell across the room at Yoongi. More direct than you would be when sober.

He cracks the first smile you’ve seen from him in days, raising his beer into the air in a little clinking motion. You do the same with your plastic cup full of what Jimin had described as “Tae’s jungle juice”. It was red and smelled like tequila.

“Why aren’t you getting laid?” you ask, taking a swig of the juice for courage.

“Got dumped, not really over it yet,” he answers matter-of-factly. “What about you?”

You shrug. “The only men here are about to be my only companions for the next twelve years. Seems like a bad plan to fuck them.”

Yoongi laughs. “Suppose so.”

“Well, don’t you worry. If that reporter is right, we’ll all be having space orgies in a month anyways.”

Yoongi chokes on his beer. “Shit.” Beer dribbles down his chin as he laughs. “I think we need to find you some ice water and a cab.”

“Probably a good plan,” you mutter as you lie down on the couch and close your eyes.

________

When you wake up in the morning, there are still no signed HR forms in your messages. Had you been a fool to think any of them were interested? How much time does it take to decide such a thing? Perhaps by putting the idea out there explicitly, it had lost all of its taboo appeal.

There are two other things waiting for you to notice though: your period and a calendar reminder that today is chili pepper pollinating day. After dealing with the first of those problems in the bathroom, you head for the lab to find Hoseok.

You find the science officer in the lab as always, sitting with his knee tucked up against his chest.

“Hey, um…” You shuffle your feet. Want to fuck me? No wait…

He blinks at you, bleary-eyed.

“Oh, you don’t look good. Were you here all night?” you ask.

“Um, was I? Yeah. I suppose. Lost track of time.” He rubs his eyes, before looking you up and down, then casting his gaze back to the floor.

All you want to do is ask about the forms. Or the meeting. Or what he thinks of you now. But you don’t.

“I need to pollinate the chili peppers today.” Usually Hoseok is the person who assists with that. “But I can get one of the other guys to do it if you need the sleep.”

“No!” Hoseok lurches forward, standing up a bit too rapidly and needing to put his hand back on the bench to steady himself. “I mean, I’m fine.”

You should disagree with him. He is exhausted. But you’d like more time to talk to him.

Pollinating the chili peppers is both time-sensitive and time-consuming, hence why it took two of you to get the job done. There were no insects on your ship to do the job for you and if the plants didn’t get pollinated, they wouldn’t bear any fruit. Chili peppers were your favorite crop. Not only a vital source of Vitamin C, but all your food benefitted from having a bit of spice added to it.

You and Hoseok head for the greenhouse together. The initial set-up gives you something to talk about in the beginning. Hoseok gathers the pollen from one flower onto a paintbrush, then hands it over to you to paint onto the stigmas of each little flower on the next plant.

Slowly the conversation dries up as you fall into a silent rhythm. Other than enjoying the chili peppers, this was also one of your favorite tasks on the ship because of the high likelihood that the two of you would brush hands periodically. It always gave you butterflies. But today he seems extra intent on keeping his distance from you. Was he disgusted by you now? His hands are trembling.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

His hand twitches so hard that a little rain of yellow pollen cascades onto the floor. He curses in frustration before turning to face you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

"I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“This, um, plan of yours…” he gestures to the vague tension in the air. “It doesn’t feel like you.”

“I’m trying to save the mission. That has always been my top priority.”

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on how this benefits the mission.”

“I outlined it all in my presentation. Plus Yoongi said…” you start to say, but are cut off by Hoseok's derisive snort.

“Look, if you’re in love with Yoongi, go date him, okay? Don’t feel obligated to include the rest of us out of pity.”

You frown. “I’m not… I’m not in love with him. It’s just sex. Just biology.”

“This isn’t you!” Hoseok argues back. “You hated the idea of anyone ever treating you that way. And now you want all of us to… to… use you like that?” He splutters out the end of the sentence.

“No one is using me! This is my plan!”

He sighs. “Well, I can’t be a part of it. Excuse me.” He leaves you alone in the greenhouse.

Your lower lip trembles and you bite it to stop it. He’s disgusted by you. Yoongi was wrong; Hoseok doesn’t want you. It takes you the rest of the day to finish the pollinating on your own.

_____

There are no forms waiting for you when you wake up the next morning either. Perhaps this was a mistake after all. If the men aren’t looking for release in the same way you are, then there’s no point to any of this. Even Jimin has been keeping his distance, so all you’ve done is mess up the one relationship you did have and offend your commander and colleagues.

Your tablet buzzes with a notification. It’s a reply from Dianna.

It’s great to hear from you! I hope things aren’t too crazy up there. I haven’t heard any rumors at work, but I’ve not been directly involved with your mission. We’ve started the plans for Titan and it’s taking most of my focus. I can ask around though if you want me to. I was surprised to find this article when I googled. Is this accurate? I assumed you would have said something.

Hope you are well! Melissa and I are going to send you a video of our new puppy.

Dianna

There is a pdf of a magazine article attached to the email entitled “Love Amongst the Stars”. At the top is one of the official launch photos of the whole crew that has been zoomed and cropped so that it’s only you and Jimin sitting next to each other. The tagline reads “How two astronauts had to leave Earth to find each other”. It makes you cringe so hard you have to put the tablet down for a minute before you can read on.

It’s some sort of fluff piece about a secret affair between you and the mission specialist. You scan the article, trying to figure out what they know. “A source close to the couple spoke with us...” Who is their source? You haven’t told anyone on Earth about what's going on with Jimin.

“Coworkers said they always sensed a special connection between the two…” This is nonsense. Jimin is one of the crew members you knew the least about prior to launch.

“Other crew members are very supportive…” Uh, sure.

“Maybe we’ll even get our first space wedding…” You groan out loud, closing the pdf.

Maybe that seals it then. You’ll just be space-married to Jimin for the next 12 years and that will be that. The idea makes you feel a bit claustrophobic in your tiny sleep pod, so you throw on your exercise clothes and head for the gym to try to clear your head.

_____

What you call “the gym” is actually just a bunch of resistance bands and cardio equipment stashed into the walls of one corner of the hangar. When the gravity was off, you had a variety of different choices for which equipment to use. There was a treadmill in the ceiling and an elliptical in the wall so multiple people could use the equipment in your off hours. But with the gravity on, the stationary bike on the floor is your only option.

As you begin your warm-up on the bike, you mull over your next move. Why hadn’t any of the other men come and talked to you yet? Jungkook had confessed to you, why wasn’t he signing up now? And Yoongi? Yoongi said he wanted a form only a few days ago. Why did it feel so different now?

Were you stupid? Had you embarrassed yourself in front of your entire crew for no reason? Maybe Namjoon and Hoseok were right and this was a bad plan. You pedal faster, trying to burn out some of the tension in your lungs.

The radio buzzes and Taehyung’s deep voice sounds in your in-ear. “Looking for a location for our biologist.”

“I’m in the gym,” you radio back, pausing your bike ride to catch your breath.

Moments later, Taehyung pokes his head in the door of the hangar. It’s good to see him up and about, even if his arm is still in a sling.

“Hey.” He steps into the room, adjusting his hair with his one good hand. “I need to talk to you about this, um, ape sex thing.”

Oh my gosh, is it finally happening? Maybe Jimin was right. Maybe Taehyung is more interested in you than you had realized. He fishes into his pocket and pulls out his tablet. You wish you weren’t so sweaty and gross for this conversation. Taehyung is such an intimidatingly attractive man.

Taehyung opens up the tablet and flips to the form as he walks closer to you. It’s happening. He’s going to sign the form. Shit. Then what will you do? It’s one thing to say you want to have sex with your whole crew, but what if he’s hoping to go right now? You need a shower.

Taehyung has nice hands. Long strong fingers delicately navigate the touch screen. It seems totally improbable that a man this attractive would be into you, even if you were the only woman in the universe. It adds to your suspicions that hormones are driving everyone crazy. Perhaps if you slept with him once, he’d lose all interest.

He finds the form and then turns his gaze up to you, staring you down with those eyes. It’s a good thing Taehyung rarely turns his full gaze on you, because it is almost too much to bear. Shit, is he going to sign it? Is he waiting for you to give him some sort of signal?

“You can’t do this to Jimin,” he says.

“What?” Not what you were expecting. “Do what to Jimin?”

“This.” He gestures over the HR form. “Signing these forms with everyone. Having sex with everyone. You’re going to destroy Jimin.”

“Jimin’s the one who suggested this whole thing in the first place.” It’s a lie. You know it's a lie. Or at least a gross exaggeration. But Jimin was the one who first brought up the idea of sharing. All for the benefit of the man in front of you now.

“No way.” Taehyung scoffs, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. “No way was it Jimin’s idea that you sleep with the whole crew.”

“Well…” You can’t bear his gaze anymore and look down at the floor. “He wanted me to sleep with you.”

“What?” He puts down the tablet. “Why would he want that?”

“He, um…” You rub your arm. “He thinks you’re in love with me.”

“What?” There is only surprise on Taehyung’s face. It’s actually a relief to see that Taehyung is as shocked by that idea as you were. “Why does he think that?”

“I don’t know…” You feel kind of dumb now. Of course, Taehyung doesn’t feel that way about you. Look at him. “Cause you told him you were jealous. Cause you can’t stand to be in the same room as us.”

Taehyung bites his lip. “Oh, um, shit, sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?” you ask. If Taehyung wasn’t jealous of Jimin, then...“Who are you jealous of?”

“Nevermind…” Taehyung stumbles backward, putting his tablet back in his pocket. “Forget I said anything.”

“No wait,” you get up off the bike to chase after him, catching by the sleeve. As he turns around, you make a show of turning off your microphone. He does the same. “Are you jealous of me?” you ask. “Do you like Jimin?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen and he bites his lip. He glances toward the camera in the corner of the room, then stands up and begins unzipping his jumpsuit.

“Um…” You are distracted by the golden arms that peak from either side of the tank top as the zipper reaches his groin. “What are you doing?”

“Need something to block the camera.”

“We have towels,” you mutter. But now he’s attempting to peel the tank top up over his head.

“Yeah, but this way anyone watching will think we’re having sex.” He answers. “Shit, can you give me a hand?” In his attempts to remove his shirt, he seems to have forgotten he is wearing the arm sling and is now stuck with his shirt over his head. His injured shoulder is black and blue from his accident with the ROV.

You gingerly try to disentangle him without getting too close to his warm, bare skin. You succeed in freeing him from his shirt and he tosses it up and over the camera.

“You want them to think we’re having sex?” you ask.

“Don’t you? It plays right into your whole ‘save the mission with bonobo sex’ plan.” He zips his jumpsuit back up as he turns around.

“I suppose.” Though the plan was also supposed to be that there would be no more secrets between the crew. “What plan of yours does it play into?”

“The one where Jimin doesn’t realize I’m in love with him.”

Of course, Taehyung is in love with Jimin. That makes so much more sense. They’ve been so close for so long. And Taehyung has always paid very close attention to anything going on with Jimin. “You’ve never tried to tell him?”

Taehyung laughs wryly and shakes his head. “How would that conversation go? Hey man, I know we’ve known each other for years and I’ve already seen you naked and that you just think of me as a friend, but I’m in love with you. I know that’s awkward but now you have to spend the next twelve years with me, knowing that I’m attracted to you when you don’t feel the same way.” Taehyung sighs. “Doesn’t sound like a good plan to me. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I’ve ruined the friendship for nothing and then I don’t even have that.”

“Yeah… I get that.” There’s something touching about realizing that Taehyung has been fighting the same battle as you for the last two years.

“I couldn’t tell anyone before launch because what if they wouldn’t let me go then? You know?”

“Yeah, the director wasn’t big on sending anyone who might ‘complicate’ the mission.” The two of you share a sad knowing smile.

“Yeah… And I thought it would be fine, you know? I like women too. I’d just date women until launch and no one would know. I wasn’t planning on falling in love with my roommate.”

“I don’t think any of us knew what this would be like.”

“I knew it was going to be a problem. I should have pulled out…” he continues.

Your mind flashes back to your own moment of doubt when Hoseok talked you into still coming on the mission.

Taehyung sighs and leans against the ice drill. “But I couldn’t just let him go off into space without me. Even if he’d never feel the same way, at least he’d still be in my life.”

The emotion in Taehyung’s words makes your eyes begin to mist. “You really love him.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung sighs again. “But he’s in love with you.”

“Well, he thinks he is.”

“What does that mean?”

“He only feels that way about me cause he thinks I’m the only option.” Maybe he would feel differently if he knew about Taehyung’s feelings.

Taehyung frowns and shakes his head. “You don’t give him enough credit.”

“Oh come on, you know him. How many women did he date while we were in training?”

“A few…”

“And how many of them was he in love with before he found the next one?”

Taehyung purses his lips. He can’t argue with that. “So why are you with him then, if you don’t think it’s real?”

You shrug, rubbing your arm. “I like him. Lord knows he’s attractive. And he wants me. It’s nice to feel wanted, I guess.”

“You could have that with any man on this ship though...”

You scoff. “They’re all suffering the same delusion. It’s only-available-vagina syndrome. I just want us all to fuck and get it out in the open. Maybe if we could get it out of our system, they would see I’m nothing special. And then we can get back to the mission.”

Taehyung eyes you up and down. “You don’t give yourself enough credit either.”

You shrug. “You wait and see. Jimin will get bored of me. They all will.”

Taehyung pulls his tablet back out of his pocket. “Do you really think that if everyone just like, banged it out, that it would help morale?”

“Well, it certainly couldn’t get any worse.”

“And Jimin thinks I’m in love with you?” He reopens the HR form and stares at it.

You nod.

“What if I signed this? And we let him think that for a little longer? Just until I figure out how to tell him the truth?

“Like we’d pretend the two of us are involved?” Maybe that would help you get the other men on board with your plan.

Taehyung nods. “Would that be okay?”

“Yeah, that would work.”

Taehyung smiles and signs the bottom of the form, then sends it to you. “Thank you,” he says before he leaves you to resume your workout.

______

Other than Taehyung, no one else approaches you over the next few days. If anything, the crew seems to be treating you more professionally than they did before you announced your plan to fuck them all. You have signed forms from Jimin and Taehyung and have been rejected by Namjoon and Hoseok, but you’ve heard nothing either way from the other three. What are they waiting for?

By the time you reach the end of the Monday morning weekly meeting, you’ve had enough waiting.

Namjoon finishes his debrief of the week’s goals and claps his hands. “Anyone have anything else mission related we need to discuss?”

“My period is over,” you announce to your assembled crew.

A muscle pulses in Namjoon’s jaw. “Officer, I wouldn’t consider that mission-related.”

You cross your arms and lean back in your chair. “Just freely sharing information.”

“Already?” Jungkook asks. “I thought you said it would take a week.”

“No, finished this morning. It varies a bit from cycle to cycle.” you answer. Hoseok’s leg begins aggressively bouncing up and down next to you, but you press on. “I need to make a schedule. So I need to know who’s in and who’s out.”

“Ooh, what if you shared out your tracker info so we’re all on the same page.” Taehyung enthuses.

Yoongi scoffs. “Why don’t we just add it to our mission task list then?”

“I’m not clear on why menstruating means we can’t have sex,” Jimin interjects.

“Enough!” Namjoon regains everyone’s attention. “We need clear boundaries between what is personal and what is professional. Right now, you all have jobs to do. Dismissed.”

________

By the time you finish your chores for the day, you have convinced yourself that getting the rest of the team on board is essential to your successful completion of the mission. So you go in search of Yoongi.

You find him in his workshop. Pieces of an air filter are spread out on the workbench and he’s in the middle of cleaning it. You had forgotten that is the actual purpose of the workbench. So much for climbing on top of it and seducing him that way.

He looks up when you enter and you decide to cut to the chase. “I haven’t gotten your HR form yet.”

“Yeah…” He goes back to inspecting the clogged tube in front of him.

“You said you wanted to sign one with me.”

“I did say that, yes.”

“And now you don’t?” You thought if anyone was going to be supportive of the plan, it would be Yoongi.

He sets down the part he had been inspecting. “Have you really thought this through?”

“Yes!” You put your hands on your hips. “I made a whole powerpoint! With sources!!”

“I think it's a bad plan.” He picks up another long tube full of dust and threads a brush through it.

“I thought you’d be onboard with this plan. You said if I was fucking everyone, there’s no need for jealousy.”

“Yeah, well, I was wrong.” He sets the tube down and turns around to look at you directly. “ Is that really what you want?”

Why is he questioning you now? He was the one who put this whole idea in your head. He was the one who knew all your fantasies. “But you said…"

“I know what I said.” He begins pacing back and forth in front of the workbench. “But there’s a difference between a fantasy and a reality. You really want to have sex with a different man every day for 12 years on some kind of rotating daily schedule? Like how we water the crops?”

“You’re mad there’s a schedule?” You try to come closer to him, but he backs away from you, turning back to the air filter.

“Sexual desire doesn’t run on a clock, you know,” he says as he starts to pack up the equipment. “What if you’re not feeling it that day? What if they’re not?”

“I’m just trying to be fair to everyone.”

“But nobody actually gets what they want!” He throws his hands up in exasperation.

“And what do you want, Yoongi?”

He pauses, then deflates, dropping his hands to his sides. “Nevermind, forget about it.” He grabs a wet wipe off the shelf and begins cleaning the dust of his hands, not looking at you.

“No!” He’s the one who has been egging you on this whole time. “You were the one who was all ‘you have to fuck Jimin to save the mission’. You said you didn’t care if I fucked Jimin too. What do you want from me, Min Yoongi?”

“I’m going to go get some dinner.” He mutters, throwing the dirty wipe in the trash and turning to leave.

Oh no. He’s not going to escape you that easily. You need some straight answers. “You started all this, Yoongi! You said every man on this ship wanted to fuck me and none of them do! What was that?” You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen.

He stops and turns around in the middle of the hall. “This isn’t all on me! You made choices too!”

“Because of what I thought you wanted!” you yell back. “What is your deal? First you want me to fuck you, then you dont. Then you want me to fuck everyone and then you don’t. What do you want from me?” Your voice is echoing down the hallway but you are way past caring about it.

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth, then spins back around and heads for the kitchen, with you trailing behind him.

Jungkook is sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of ramen. He looks up, startled as the two of you barge in.

“And what about you?” You fire the question at your youngest crew member. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

The poor boy nearly chokes on his noodles. “I, um…” He swallows, wide eyes glancing between you and Yoongi.

You lean against the table next to Jungkook as Yoongi steps around the two of you to head for the pantry, but you see his fist clench as he walks by. You lean closer to Jungkook. “Didn’t you enjoy my video? Don’t you want to see the real thing?”

“Uh...” Jungkook glances at Yoongi again. “Maybe the two of you should talk this out…”

Yoongi’s hands tremble, but he doesn’t turn around, intent on starting the rice cooker. You turn your focus to Jungkook instead. “This isn’t about him. Whatever the flight engineer wants to do is up to him. He knows where I stand. This is about you and I.” You are going to get a man on this ship to fuck you. Today.

“It’s not like I’m not interested…” Jungkook’s knee bounces up and down rapidly as he watches you. “But I told you I was in love with you and you literally had a panic attack.”

Oh right. That was back when you thought you still had a shot of stopping all this. Before half your crew had seen you naked. Before all of them had heard you having sex. Before you’d announced that you wanted all of them to fuck you. But you can still control this, if you can get them onboard with your plan.

Your tablet buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to give yourself a moment to think. There’s a message from Jin.

Hey, come find me when you get this and we can talk. I’ll be in the kitchen.

You brace yourself for yet another rejection note. But you click on the attachment to instead find your HR form, Kim Seokjin’s signature scrawled right next to yours.

Holy shit. He signed it. Under no false pretenses. What do you do now?

“What is it?” Jungkook asks.

But then Jin appears in the doorway. He startles when he sees you. “Oh! I thought you’d still be on shift.”

You shake your head. “You signed the form.”

“What? He did?” Jungkook asks.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Jin answers, laughing nervously. “That’s what you wanted right?”

“Yes, that’s what I wanted.” You stand up and move closer to your pilot. Jungkook crosses his arms. Yoongi finally turns around to observe the three of you.

Jin. Jin with his broad-shoulders and plump lips. Your friend. Your very handsome friend. He’s going to help you save the mission.

“You’re the first one I’ve gotten, so you can go first.”

“Wait, what?” Jin stammers. “But you and the commander?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t sign.”

“You and Taehyung though? I saw him take off his shirt and then cover the camera.”

“Oh right… sorry… I guess you’re the second one. But Tae’s still on shift.”

“Don’t forget about Jimin.” Yoongi helpfully chimes in.

Jin takes a step backward. “But I thought for sure these two…” He gestures at the other two men in the kitchen.

“Nope,” you move toward him. “Not yet.” You suddenly see a way to get them all on board at once.

“Oh, well, um...” His ears are bright red. “Maybe we can talk more about this after dinner?”

“That’s one option…” You lick your lips and find the top of your zipper with your hand, blushing as the next part of your plan unfolds in your mind. “Or you could fuck me now.”

“What?”

“Holy shit.” Jungkook mutters beside you.

Jin dives around you, moving toward the other side of the kitchen. “There are people eating here!”

“Nothing they haven’t seen before.” You begin unzipping your jumpsuit in what you hope is a seductive manner, rolling your hips as you follow him across the kitchen. You have both Jungkook and Yoongi’s rapt attention.

You take a cue from Taehyung and peel off your tank top, throwing it over the camera behind you, leaving you in a bra and the bottom half of your jumpsuit. “Though if these two are going to stay and watch, they better sign the forms as well.”

“Stay and watch?” Jin swallows, hands clenched at his sides.

You grab the waist of your jumpsuit, teasing it down just slightly as you make direct eye contact with Jungkook and then Yoongi. “What do you think boys? In or out?”

Jungkook lunges for his tablet. A satisfying ping on your own tablet confirms that this plan is working. Yoongi just crosses his arms and leans back against the counter.

You drop the jumpsuit, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear. You prop yourself up on the kitchen table next to Jungkook’s now cold bowl of ramen.

“What are you doing?” Jin asks, whole face beginning to turn red.

“Look…” You shimmy out of your bra straps so that your bra is only held in place by your hand. “I’m going to need you to fuck me right here on this table, Kim Seokjin. For the good of the mission.”

“Why does putting your bare ass on the surface where we eat help the mission?!”

“No more secrets. No more jealousy. Everything will be out in the open. Like the bonobos do.”

Your fingers tease at the clasp of your bra. All three men stare at you. You lock eyes with Yoongi, daring him to look away. Implement with full commitment. You drop your bra to the floor.

“Stop, stop!” Jin moves toward you as you slide your fingers into the band of your underwear. “Just hang on for one second.” He picks up your jumpsuit from the floor and comes closer, draping it around your shoulders in an attempt to cover you. “Look at me.” He grasps your chin and turns your gaze to meet his. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

You lick your lips. “Yes.”

He kisses you, hard. It’s aggressive, urgent even. His hands are on your shoulders, then sliding down your back, pulling you toward him. Your eyes close as you momentarily lose yourself in it. Despite you begging him for it, it still surprises you how insistent he is. His hands keep sliding down your back, until they reach your buttocks, running over the thin cotton of your underwear and scooping you into his arms. You wrap your arms around his shoulders for balance, and then he is lifting off the table.

He breaks out of the kiss to pick you up even higher and then proceeds to throw you over his shoulder.

“Jin! What are you doing?” You kick your feet into the air.

“I am a man, not an ape,” he says, picking up your jumpsuit and bra and tossing them over his other shoulder. “And if I’m going to fuck you, it’s going to be in the privacy of my own sleep pod, where the only man enjoying it is me.”

He hauls you ass first out into the hallway, with Jungkook and Yoongi both watching wide-eyed as you are carried away.

“I can walk,” you argue as Jin turns for the sleep pods.

“Nope,” replies Jin, readjusting you on his shoulder before carrying you down the hall.

As you reach the junction to the bridge, your ass runs into something warm and firm.

“What the-” says Namjoon. Your whole body flushes hot as you realize you’ve run butt-first into your commanding officer.

“Shit, sorry commander.” Jin laughs. “Excuse us,” Jin says and continues down the hallway, not setting you down or stopping.

Namjoon has pressed himself up against the wall with his hands in the air, a look of shock on his face. He looks like he is about to say something, but then Jin reaches his sleep pod and sets you down inside and you can’t see the commander anymore.

“Well, that was the best thing that has happened in a long time.” Jin chuckles as he closes the door. “The looks on Namjoon’s and Jungkook’s faces will power me for a year. You okay?” he asks, handing your bra and jumpsuit. “For the record, I’m not expecting anything else to happen here.”

“You don’t want to do anything else?” You hold up your jumpsuit to cover yourself, more disappointed than you would like to admit.

Jin eyes you up and down. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested, but that wasn’t my intention in bringing you here.”

“You hauled me half-naked to your bedroom and your intention wasn’t to have sex?”

“I know, I am such a gentleman, aren’t I?” He laughs, then shrugs. “Seemed like maybe you needed an out. Things were getting kind of crazy back there.”

“But you signed the form? Doesn’t that imply a sexual relationship?”

“I guess I’m not really a ‘sex in front of two other men before we’ve even been on a date’ kind of guy.”

“How about a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?”

“Are you even actually interested in me?” Jin asks, getting more serious. “Because none of what happened in the kitchen felt like it was about me. I don’t want to be some pawn in your plot to make Yoongi jealous.”

“It’s not about Yoongi!” You groan. “Why does everyone think this is about Yoongi?”

“Have you seen the two of you interact recently? There are some seriously repressed feelings going on there.”

You bang your head into the door of the sleep pod in frustration, before looking up at him. “You’re a very attractive man. Maybe I have feelings for you?”

He sighs. “Yeah, but you don’t. You can’t swap us out for each other.”

Shit. The way you’ve been treating the men is exactly how you feared they would treat you. While you fear being wanted because you’re the only woman, you’ve made all the men on the ship feel as though you think them interchangeable simply because they’re men.

“It never occurred to me that any of you would have real feelings for me.”

“Well, you are very dumb.”

“Hey…” You hit him gently on the chest. He catches your hand in his.

“Amazing they would trust such a crucial mission to someone who is so very stupid,” he teases, still holding your hand.

“I’m not this stupid about mission related stuff, just all this relationship crap.” You laugh softly.

“So tragic. Someone with so much training ought to have better sense.”

He squeezes your hand and you look into his eyes again. He smiles a soft reassuring smile and for the first time in weeks, you feel like maybe everything will be okay again at some point in the future.

“You’re a good man, Kim Seokjin.”

“Best man on the ship.” He chuckles.

“Kiss me again.”

He arches his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I want you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Look there’s no one else here right? This is only about you. I want you.”

He kisses you again, tenderly this time. His warm arms wrap around and you realize you’re still naked except for your underwear. You curl into his embrace. He smells good, warm and manly, like good cologne. You run your hands over his muscular shoulders that you can feel through his clothes. It’s slow and leisurely, like you’re savoring each other.

“You sure you’re not a ‘sex in the sleep pods’ kind of guy?” You tease as you slide your thigh in between his legs and feel his erection pressing against you.

He groans, resting his head on your shoulder as you grind against him. “I’d like to think of myself as more of a ‘sex in the sleep pods after the third date’ kind of guy.”

You pause and look up at him surprised. “You want to go on a date?”

He nods. “At least three of them, in fact.”

You smile. “That would be nice. I’d like that.”

He kisses you behind your ear. “So are Mondays my day then? Can I take you on a date next Monday?”

You gasp as he rolls his hips against you, the heat of him seeping through his clothes. “That’s a long time to wait, especially if you’re going to make me wait through three of them.”

“I’m sure we can find other ways to entertain ourselves.” He cups your naked breast in his hand, massaging gently.

“Is there anything in particular you want to do today?” You palm his erection through his pants and he gasps.

“Stop that, you temptress…” He grits his teeth. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“Aww, come on, there must be something I can do for you.”

“Well…” He bites his lip. “I will admit that I am awfully curious what was on that video that got five of my crew members suspended.”

“I could show you.” You start to shimmy down your underwear. “But there was no touching in the video.”

He kisses you one last time on the cheek, before pulling away and pressing himself into the opposite wall of the sleep pod. “Okay, show me. I’ll be good.” He puts his hands up by his head in mock innocence.

You finish removing your underwear, spreading your legs apart as best you can. You trail a hand down between your legs, finding yourself wet already. “It was me masturbating.” You tease around your clit without touching it directly.

He groans, hips kicking forward as he stays up against the wall. “Show me.”

“Well, first I took my fingers and sucked on them.” You narrate your actions as you wet your fingers. “Then I touched my nipples.” Your nipples harden before you’ve even touched them, but you continue to tease them for his benefit.

His eyes dart back and forth between your face, your breasts, and your spread legs, as if he can’t decide where he wants to look first. He licks his lips like a man starving. “Keep going.”

“I’m very wet.” You continue your narration as he clenches his fists. You run your fingers through your wet folds, then hold them up to show him. His hips buck again as he groans, still fully dressed and pressed to the wall. “And then I touched my clitoris.” It’s your turn to moan as you finally touch your swollen pleasure center, stroking slowly and keeping your eyes fixed on Jin.

“Goddamn…” He drops to his knees, hands resting at his sides, eyes fixed on your hand as it strokes around your clit.

“Do you wish it was your fingers right now, instead of mine?” you ask.

He nods, tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth. He begins inching toward you on his knees. “Do you think… maybe…?”

“I thought we said no touching,” you tease when he gets to your feet, his head level with your hand, eyes fixed on your wet cunt as you continue to touch yourself.

“I just…” His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I want to smell you.” A pulse of arousal rocks through you at how eager he is. You nod. He moves his nose right over your pubic mound and inhales a long slow savoring breath, tickling your hairs.

“Ah…” He releases a long, loud satisfied moan. His knuckles turn white, but his face is relaxed. “You smell amazing.” He inches even closer, just millimeters separating you from his face and inhales again.

“Oh shit.” You feel the pleasure skyrocketing as your orgasm catches you off guard. You grab him by the back of the head to stabilize yourself and his nose bumps firmly against your clit.

He groans again, loudly right against you as he grinds his nose into you, letting you ride his face as your orgasm washes over you. You thread your fingers through his hair to hold him in place. He wraps his hands around the back of your thighs to press himself into you harder. You cry out as waves of muscle contraction course through you over and over.

“Fuck…” you both say in unison as you collapse back against the door. Your eyes meet and you both start laughing. He places a light kiss right below your belly button before he gets up.

“Well, I see why that was worth getting suspended for,” he says, unzipping his jumpsuit and using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face.

“And you didn’t even come yet.” You slide your underwear back up, wondering if he would consider a blowjob to be a step too far before your first date.

“Um, actually…” he gestures down at his crotch and the new wet spot you find there makes your pelvic muscles clench.

“You came in your pants? Over me?”

Jin laughs. “God, you have no idea how sexy you are, do you?” He picks up your clothing off the floor, before kissing you softly on the forehead. “I will have a hard time waiting for Monday.”

“Me too.” You mutter and get a sudden sinking feeling. You don’t want this to be over right now. You want to stay here with him, to cuddle and be held by him, but you have made this very clear to everyone involved that these dalliances are not relationships. It’s just sex. And now the sex is over. Until next week.

You slip back into your clothes and give him one last kiss. You tablet pings as you head out into the hallway and you fish it out of your pocket.

Yoongi: Okay, I’m in.

Below his message is his signed HR form. A swell of smug satisfaction makes you smile as you cross the hall and climb into your own pod. You open up a group message for the five men whose signed forms you now have in your possession and type out the following:

Mondays: Jin

Tuesdays: Jungkook

Wednesdays: Taehyung

Thursdays: Jimin

Fridays: Yoongi

“Saturday and Sunday to be determined,” you whisper to yourself as you hit send.

____

Next part

#bts x reader #bts smut #ot7 x reader #void #btssavedmylifeblr

4K notes · View notes

jameui · 3 years ago

Text

SPECIAL PRESENT 1

Requested

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Jung Yunoh x College Student!M!Reader (featuring: Bestfriend!Lee Jeno)

GENRE: Fluff, Smut

WARNINGS: Unprotected intercourse, huge age gap, a lot of IMPORTANT flashbacks (i think), daddy kink, sex toys, overstimulation

SUMMARY: You were a striving student in Resonance High and had perfect records. Besides your devotion to your education, you were also gifted with a talent. All these stuffs making your sugar daddy, Jaehyun, proud of you, so he decided to give you a night you won't forget.

(P.S. so i was fucking dumb to actually think that when you said performance, you meant by performing on a stage, when you actually meant, how male reader actually did good in school. I was too late to notice. sorry. if this didn't reach your expectations.

The school's foundation day is fast approaching and each student at Resonance High are all excited preparing for that certain day. During the school's foundation day, events such as competition in sports and performances like singing and dancing or spoken poetry. All sorts of event takes place in that particular, not only a day, but a week, that every students can take part in.

The school's foundation day does not only happen after a day. It's a week of celebration for the foundation and, of course, free from homeworks and projects that students have to worry about. All their focus must be on having fun on those days and be active in participation. Some students never liked the thought about celebrating a foundation day, but you on the other hand, thought otherwise as it's your first time celebrating it with a friend, since you never really get to do it with any due to you practically being locked up in your house for almost all years of your life.

Now, you were away from your family and you got to finally do anything you wanted. For example, having a sugar daddy who gave you all the help you needed. Sure, at first, you were just doing it out of mere fun, but you never quite expected to actually grow feelings for the older male. You didn't know when it started, but the first time you ever felt the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach was when he became worried and concerned when you got sick after a very excessive practice, the day prior. You wanted to tell him so, so bad, but you didn't know how to.

You were scared that maybe you were crossing the line or coming off too strong or maybe he'd walk away if you broke the agreement. It first started with just you only being up for it because of the agreement. Though, you never really went as far as you giving him a good blow or having a steamy bath with him. Either way, he was still someone you could trust and the only person you could rant about all your problems. The thought of losing all these scared you the most.

Unlike some other people, Jaehyun was smart and was a successful businessman, owning one of the richest companies in the industry. Jaehyun, when he's not busy, he'd help you out with your math homeworks or would just do it for you, since he found it fun and easy. Sometimes, you think he's Einstein, reincarnated.

Jaehyun, besides his brains, is also fun to be with. He knows about your passion and talent for singing and dancing and your once dream to be an artist, so he would sometimes play loud music in the living room through the speakers and you two would be singing along, him making up lyrics when he have no idea what the song artist's saying in their song. He'd sometimes call them drunk, because they sounded like they were slurring their words, which you would always laugh to. Also, he'd let you teach him a few dance steps you saw on tiktok and you'd record it together, only for the fun of both of you.

You were seated by your section's booth and couldn't help, but crack a smile from the thought. That was until one of your classmates decided to cut the moment. "What's with the smile?" Jeno, one of your friends, questioned with a smirk whilst carrying a case of bottled apple juice, placing it beside the stand of the booth.

"Here to tease me, again?" You scoffed at him, as he shrugged his shoulders. You rolled your eyes at him and stood up from your seat before heading to the school's gate where the rest of the important necessitated items are waiting. You skipped along the way and stopped by the pick up truck that was parked at the parking lot. "Anything I can help with?" You asked with a smile.

"Here's the last of 'em." He gave you two cases of the bottled drinks, one stacked above the other making you grunt.

"This is heavy." You muttered under your breathe, your thin hands barely holding onto the handles. "Th-thanks." You told them your feet wobbling from the heavy weight of the trays.

Jeno who came walking back outside saw you struggling, making him chuckle deciding to help you. "Need help with that?"

"Yes, please." You said before passing the trays to Jeno carefully, so it doesn't topple over. "Thanks." You smiled at him, cracking your knuckles and shaking it to reduce the pain you felt on your hands.

"Welcome." He said, then walking back to the booth, with you beside him. "Ah, M/n. By the way, are you attending the practice this afternoon?"

"Yeah. Of course. Why do you ask?" You chuckled, kicking on a pebble that came your way.

"Oh, I just thought you'd be busy sucking your daddy's—"

"JENO!" You yelled at him with an evident blush on your face cutting him off to avoid anyone hearing what Jeno had to say. It's always been like this. Since the day you told him about having a sugar daddy, he'd always tease you no matter where you are or what you're doing. He'd always use your excuses against you and now, you're regretting ever telling him.

"Okay, okay. Damn." He laughed at your reaction, you staring daggers at him.

Just as you were about to spat back at him, you heard a group of girls' voices calling out to you. "M/n! M/n! M/n!" They were successful in gaining your attention, while they smiled running up towards you. "M/n! You didn't tell us you have a handsome brother..." One of them said, while batting their lashes.

You knitted your brows in confusion. "I have?" You asked the girls, who looked like they knew better and nodded their heads. First of all, you don't have a brother, but you have three sister, two are older and one is younger. Second, you don't even know who these girls were and yet, they mysteriously knew your name and who you were. "Wait, who are you talking—"

"M/n-ah." You heard that sweet raspy voice of the man you loved, your head snapping towards him who stood by the side of your booth. You guessed he was on his break, since he was still in his suit and it was already past twelve in the afternoon.

"Jaehyun!" You giggled as you ran to him, all the while opening his arms for you to throw yourself in. You gladly complied and wrapped your arms around him, the lot older male doing the same as he hung his long arms on your waist. You snuggled into his chest before you looked up at him to see him already looking down at you with a smile that displayed his deeply carved dimples. "What are you doing here? Aren't you busy?" He made you giggle when he patted your head and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"I wanted to see my baby." Jaehyun replied, then pouting. "I've been so tired lately."

You furrowed your brows in concern and hugged him tighter. "Can't you take a three days off?"

"I want to, but I got to keep the company running if I don't want it to fail." He answered you, making you nod your head.

Once the girls saw these, they quickly felt embarrassed and walked off without making a sound, Jeno laughing at them.

"Then, why don't I treat you to something sweet? How's that?" You wanted to do something for the older and this was the only thing you could ever think of.

The pout was still glued to his face when he looked back down at you. "Angel, we agreed that I would do the treating."

"Well, you're the one who needs my help, right now, so I want to do something for you, other than..." You cleared your throat and mumbled, "...the other things I do for you."

Jaehyun chuckled, as he finally gave in to your offer while he ruffled your hair. "Alright."

You pulled away from him once he had loosened his grip from around your waist. You took him by the wrist and told Jeno that you'd be somewhere else, leaving Jeno with the rest of the responsibilities, promising him to make up to it.

You were leading Jaehyun to the canteen, before he gently pulled on your hand. You turned your head towards him, your eyes moving down to where he held you. You chuckled and smiled. "What's wrong?"

"Can... I hold your hand, M/n?" The question took you aback, only since he never really asks those type of questions. Ones he only asks are some that goes by the line 'can you suck my dick?' or of some sort.

"Sure." You managed to smile from the obvious shock that got Jaehyun a little red. "You didn't even have to ask." You added to which he nodded to shyly. It would be times like this when you would forget that he is a good thirty years old because of his cute personality.

You two finally made it to the canteen, the taller male receiving a lot of stares from all those present inside. Jaehyun was yet to spot the attention he was gaining, but you were already feeling iffy even though you knew that those heart eyes were for Jaehyun. But, you couldn't help the feeling that those eyes didn't like you being around Jaehyun. "J-Jaehyun..." You squeaked out silently, tugging on the sleeve of his suit, taking his attention whilst smiling down at you. His smile faltered upon noticing how you looked subtly shaken and cowered in fear. "I.. I think we should leave."

"Baby, what's wrong? You look so tense." Jaehyun asked you out of pure concern, cupping your cheeks as he gently tilted your head upwards, so you could face him, but you removed his hands from your cheeks that got him almost shocked since you'd never really let yourself move away from his grasp, instead you would usually just lean into his touch and let yourself succumb to the warmth he was radiating, but this. This was different and he knew exactly that something was bothering you.

"Can we go, please?" You sounded like you were begging for you two to quickly move outside, leaving Jaehyun with no choice, but to nod his head and let you drag him out of the place. Alas, you were outside, but he never received even a word from you nor a hum, a sigh, nothing. Just complete silence.

He grew more worried thinking that he might have done something that he shouldn't have or said something that made you feel so uncomfortable. He was getting anxious as you continued to keep your mouth closed and never said a word. "Baby, you know you can trust me, right?" Jaehyun caressed your thumb in a comforting manner, his eyes showing how much he truly cared for you and how genuinely worried he was. He was scared that he might have done something wrong to you.

He himself never knew how it got to this. At first, just like you, he had only intended to find some fun in the relationship you both had and not actually grow some feelings towards you, but the first time he ever met you, all he ever had thought in his head was to protect you at all cost and give you everything you wanted, spoil you with all his money and riches, give you forehead kisses and pleasure that can make you see stars. Since the start, he only thought of this as something platonic and that it was a part of the agreement you both had consent on, but as you two got to spend more time together, he always felt something blossom inside of him. He always looked forward to every day, mainly because he had you to wake up to. His usual stoic expression, completely turned into those that said 'sunshine' all spread out on his face. That's when he completely knew, it was not only the benefits he was up for, anymore. It was you and his love for you.

He was just your usual workaholic man, who had nothing in his head rather than work, work, and work. Not until the day he bumped into you on that one faithful day, when you were so drained from all the studying you had to do and decided to buy coffee. You were so intimidated by his face that he got you cowering in fear when you turned to look up at him. The only courage you could muster was so small that you were only able to give him a polite bow before you entered the coffee shop to buy your favorite cappuccino coffee.

He was so intrigued by you that the next day, during that same time, he waited for you in that same exact location, but you never showed up. Until later. You were so shocked from the sight of him. You feared he'd beat you into a pulp, so you hid your face with your hand, hoping he didn't see you, but luck wasn't on your side that day and decided to let Jaehyun notice your presence.

"Hey, I—"

"Sorry, sir. I'm quite busy, right now." You immediately cut him off and got inside the shop, Jaehyun following suit. Your eyes made its way back towards the older who was following behind you closely. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to look at him, retracting his body from looking through your shoulders, throughout the whole time smiling down at you with his dimples showing. "Excuse me, sir, but do I owe you with something?"

Jaehyun pursed his lips, thinking before smirking and leaning closer to your face, with you, all the while, pulling your head back. "Yes." He answered you with his hands shoved confidently inside his pants.

Your gaze averted from his mesmerizing eyes to the table that supported you and kept you from falling. You gulped and felt your lips go dry. "D-do you need money? I don't have much, but will 7,000 won be enough?" You fondled through your pockets and took out your wallet.

"What? No, no." He chuckled, one hand taken out from his pockets and scratching his eyebrows while he sighed. "I have an offer."

Your brows were pulled together looking up at him, curious. "What is it?"

"Give me your number and I'll tell you over the phone."

And that's how it all started. Of course, he told you about lying that you owed him something, either way you were thanking the God above that he created you as gullible as ever.

As of the moment, Jaehyun could only feel his nervousness rise as he continued to stare at your back. "M/n, please say something. You're making me feel so worried."

"Jaehyun..." You finally stopped walking and spoke, before throwing yourself into him, the impact suddenly taking all the air inside Jaehyun's lungs away. "Don't leave me... please." You pleaded, your arms around him going tighter.

Jaehyun softened and felt himself get blanketed over with relief. He raised his hand to put it on top of your head and caressed them softly and soothingly. "I won't, M/n. I promise you."

In the end, Jaehyun was the one who treated you with something to eat. You were sat at a bench near your class' booth, Jaehyun next to you, while you swayed your feet back and forth. "Hyunnie." You called out to him with a new nickname you came up with, Jaehyun choking on his burger letting out a few coughs while you patted his back, laughing. "How the hell do you eat a burger that it got you choking on it?"

His coughing finally stopped and looked at you with a surprised face. "The nickname. You never called me that before."

You pouted in reply and blushed in embarrassment. "Do you.. not like it?"

"No, of course not." He was quick to shake his head, then cleared his throat, looking away. "It's cute."

You were able to see the pink tint painting his cheeks that you always found cute, since it's a very rare sight to see. Teasingly, you peeked over and was able to confirm that he was, in fact, blushing from just the nickname you created. "Oh my gosh, you're blushing." You cooed and immediately, Jaehyun scoffed, facing you to land a small kiss on your lips that got you widening your eyes and wiping away the mocking smile you had on your face. Your fingers made its way up towards your lips, unable to speak.

"Now, tell me who's blushing." Jaehyun smirked.

You glared at him, but instead of feeling intimidated, he found it cute. "I'm just surprised, since you never really like to, er, kiss me on the lips." You whispered the last part, loud enough for only you and him to hear.

You two were so happy in each other's company, that you both forgot that Jaehyun had somewhere else to be. That being his work. He wouldn't have noticed the time passing, if it wasn't for the alarm he had set, knowing he'd lose track of time when he's around you.

You walked him to his car and saw him off, waving your hand at him, not leaving until he was finally out of sight. You put your hands back down and sighed happily, walking back towards where you should be: at the booth where you should be finishing the preparation.

"So, how was the quick date?" Jeno asked you with a smirk, the sleeves of his shirt pushed back inside the hole that connected it to the shirt, showing his perfectly built muscles.

"It was great! Save for the part where I received death glares at the canteen. That felt terrible." You shuddered at the thought, but smiled again. "That aside, it was great."

"Your schedule didn't change? Are there still room for practice later?" Jeno asked you for the nth time that day. He's been asking you since you entered the classroom.

"It didn't, Jeno. Why are you so eager with me being present in the practice?" You chuckled at him, deciding to help him pack the treat bags you will give out to your customers.

"I just can't be left alone there with people I don't know. I'm an awkward person." Jeno told you.

"Jeno. You're literally known by all the students here and you're scared because they're strangers to you? I bet they all even want to be friends with you." You said, but Jeno just shook his head, his hair moving along with him.

"No, M/n. You must and need to attend the practice, either way." Jeno demanded of you.

You rolled your eyes at him and sighed deeply through your nose in defeat. "Fine, fine." Jeno's eye smile appeared and let out a small 'yes' making you chuckle.

"Hey, M/n." A voice started from outside the booth and saw a girl with her arms crossed, looking down at you whilst you seated at the ground. You looked up at her, but she didn't look friendly. She looked angry than friendly.

Your eyes flickered toward Jeno, then back to the girl and smiled. "Yeah?"

"Don't give me that smile, you whore." She spat at you, all of a sudden.

Your eyes closed shut, your mouth wide open and your forefinger raised up while you pushed it towards her way and scoffing. Your eyelids tore open and you smirked at the girl. "Excuse me? Whore? Who you calling a whore?"

"Listen, midget—"

"No, you listen here, Barbie." You said, a mocking tone with the last word. "You full on plastic, bitch. Get away from my sight. You look like a parasite."

The girl gasped in shock and opted to pull on your hair, but Jeno held her by her wrist and angrily stared at her. "You heard him. Get away. I'm not afraid to punch a person, even a girl, if they're purpose was to mistreat and shame on an innocent person." Jeno threw her hand away like it was trash, sending the girl from moving two steps back before stomping her foot and turning on her heels to walk away.

You could still see Jeno glaring at the girl while you looked at him in shock. "Wow, wow. Look at you."

"Sh. I'm not done yet." Jeno hushed you, before he continued his work. "You were saying?"

"Nothing. Was just shocked you told that girl off. I could have handled myself just fine, but thanks to you, I'm saved from causing a ruckus." You said, Jeno huffing through the nose.

"Seriously, you." He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose and knitted his brows. "Stop making the problem bigger."

"No way. I need to put up a fight. If I don't, they'd see me as someone weak." You defended yourself.

"And you can't even handle death glares that's being sent towards you?"

You were about to speak and fight back, but he was right. "That's... that's a different matter."

"Sure, it isn't, M/n." He said rolling his eyes.

Later that afternoon, past 5 p.m., you and Jeno excused yourselves from the class, since you have a dance practice for your performance on the opening of the foundation day. Out of habit, you skipped beside Jeno who was happy that you got to attend the practice today. Again.

You never really liked the person who choreographed the whole song. It was under a genre you thought you could never pull off or fit in, so your confidence was at a very low level. During practices, though, you try your best not to make it obvious that you were uncomfortable for that certain concept, but you still had to be seen making a lot of mistakes, some of the other students who joined clearly agitated. You could only bow and bow and bow at the mistake you knew you clearly had done, feeling guilty for the reason why always had to start again from the top. The reason why you never really got along well with these students.

You have arrived at the practice room, taking quiet steps as you both entered the venue trying your best not to make a sound. The intense gazes you received from the other students didn't come unnoticed by you, the reason why you pulled your knees closer to your chest as you buried your face in it. Clearly, they were enjoying those two few days you were absent, since they got to finish practice early and with no interruption nor mistakes. But, now that you're around, they knew exactly what awaited them.

Jeno saw you curled up into a ball and eyes making its way up to the students who looked so angry with you making him frown. "M/n. Don't mind them. You're actually doing even greater than them." He tried to cheer you up, so you acknowledged it with a smile.

"Thanks, Jeno. But, I don't think that will change the fact that my uneasiness with the dance is the reason why we have to start over and over again." You sighed and placed your head back down on your knees, Jeno drawing circles on your back.

A moment later, the mentor came walking in, displeased to see you present. "Oh, welcome back... M/n." He stated before you could hear those loud snickers coming from the students. You and Jeno were the first ones to stand in position, the others following suit. The mentor's face lit up with an idea on his mind. "Can everyone please take a seat for a couple of minutes?" He smiled, then looking at you. "Except for you, L/n."

Jeno's eyes fell upon you, a worried look on his face, mouthing 'I'll be fine' to reassure him as he sat back down along with the other students until it was only you and the mentor left standing. "You think telling your 'boyfriend' about me would scare me?" He mocked you with your head still hung low. "You have to try better than that." He smirked, pulling a chair to seat on it. His legs were on either side of the chair, so his chest was pressed upon the back rest of the chair to face you. "Start."

You were startled by the sudden order and went into position, but you only started fidgeting out of fear. "Where... I.. sir.. Do I stand—"

"L/n!" He yelled at you, making you jump from the sudden raise of his voice. You knew telling Jaehyun was a bad idea. "Fix yourself, will you? The performance is due tomorrow and you're such a mess." The misery you were caged in were the happiness of the students as they started to giggle, your fist clenching hard until your knuckles turned white.

The music started, but you were still nowhere from moving your body. You just stood there, head hanging low while gnashing your teeth. You weren't angry at the mentor. You were angry at yourself. You were angry that you couldn't do any better. You practiced the dance so hard, yet it were still so far from perfecting it. You just wished some kind of spirit would possess you and lead your body.

The whole place started to laugh at you as they watched you shamelessly froze on your position. You felt a small jab on your ribs that made you open your clenched fists and saw Jeno standing right beside you with a grin on his face, your expression softening as he started to lead the dance. Slowly, you felt your own body move to the beat and rhythm of the song, being at the same flow with Jeno. The students only watched while the song ended.

A slow clap from your mentor was heard, a smile plastered on his face. "Way to impress me you two, huh?" He stood from the chair and waisted his arms. "L/n." His eyes moved to you, expecting yet another scolding. "I'm proud of you. Keep up that confidence and I just know you'll do great." You felt a smile creeping its way up to your face, before the mentor closed in on you and ruffled your hair. "Alright, everyone. From the top."

-----

The practice ended at exactly eight o' clock in the evening and you were already feeling drained, your sweat soaked shirt sticking to your body. Your forehead glistened with sweat, that ran down to the side of your cheeks. You panted heavily and flopped your body down on the polished floor.

Why that late you ask? Well, you and Jeno decided to stay for a few hours to polish the dance, him pointing out your mistakes and going back to the steps to correct you. You were grateful Jeno was a very patient guy, so whenever you made a mistake or wasn't executing the dance properly, he'd just chuckle and help you with your 'cute mistakes', at least that's what he called it.

"Finally..." You panted, Jeno settling himself beside you, his limbs sprawled all over the floor. "Done."

"You did so great, M/n! I knew you could pull this off." Jeno gave you a compliment that made you giggle, a hand on your chest to catch your breathe.

"And it was all thanks to you." You told him.

Jeno shook his head. "Ey. The only thing I did was help your body to loosen up."

"Exactly." The cute noises coming out of your mouth once more. "Do you think we should practice more?" You asked the older who moved his head to look at you.

"Still up for one more?" He smiled knowingly at you, while you nodded at him. You both stood up from where you both lied and you went to your position with Jeno moving to the speakers to play the song for the last time.

The minute you both finished, you were so exhausted that your knees couldn't hold themselves up anymore and you fell to the ground, groaning. You were panting heavily, starting to even your breathing at the same time laughing proudly at yourself for how well you've done. "When I get home, I'm gonna take a shower and then, throw myself on the bed and sleep."

Jeno could only laugh and you two were left with half an hour talking about all the things in life. You listened to him rant about how the mentor was being more harsh on you than the other students, but you only shook the topic off telling him that it no longer mattered and that he should already move on. You had also thanked him for helping you, during that time when you had to do the dance routine all by yourself. You really didn't know what else to do than to just stand there and sulk.

A few minutes later, both of you were now starting to pack, Jeno having to make a quick visit to the restroom, leaving you all alone inside the studio. You were changing into a dry shirt, when the voice of the janitress from behind the window made your body go tense as you jumped and turned towards her. "Oh, fuck." You sighed out in relief, holding your hand close to your chest. "You scared me, ma'am."

Her eyes turned into those that looked like crescents and smiled. "My bad. Probably shouldn't have passed by unannounced." She nodded and proceeded to mop the hallway floor.

You were about to ask her about a certain matter that was troubling you, but when you lifted your head to face the woman, she was not there anymore. "Uh.. probably left for something." You shrugged it off and went back to scrolling through your feeds, the certain feeling of being watched sending chills down your spine. The silence was so deafening that you started to whistle to a song you were currently into, just to help calm the unnerving feeling. You started to feel all the hair on your body stand on its end when a very harsh opening of the door sent you off flying, then to the ground your heart beating so fast. "Shit!"

Jeno was obviously confused why you got so scared by him just pushing the door open, but he was also laughing at your state which made you glare at him. He helped you stand back up to your feet, as you dusted your pants from any invisible dirt. "What the hell happened to you?"

"You scared the shits out of me. That's what happened." You scoffed at him, hitching your back higher onto your shoulders. "Let's go." You two vacated the room, making sure to lock it, but you told Jeno not to since the janitress was still yet to finish cleaning, but Jeno was greatly puzzled at what you had said.

"What in the world are you talking about?" Jeno laughed lightly before proceeding to lock the door and hung an arm around your shoulder.

"I saw her through the window." You added.

Jeno shook his head in disbelief and didn't fall for your trick to scare him off. "First, the school does not hire a janitress or a janitor, since they have working students. Second, so the dance major students don't get distracted, the window inside the room is tinted, so you basically don't see anything outside."

You felt your heart sink at the revelation as you felt all your blood get drained. "Are you... s-sure?"

"Yeah." Jeno answered your question. You slowly turned your head back towards the room, the windows and saw a black figure waving their hands at you that made you sprinting off to the entrance, leaving a dumbfounded Jeno as he followed behind you. "What the hell, M/n?"

"Shut... up! You were not the one left inside the dance room, so you wouldn't know how much I'm fucking scared, right—"

"M/n!"

"FUCK!" You screamed on the top of your lungs, stomping your foot and punching the air for no apparent reason. "Jaehyun, you... nevermind. Just take me home, please. I think I'm already fucking wasted." Jaehyun, who was on his casual attire, approached you and placed a kiss on top of your head.

#x male reader #bottom male reader #bxb #male reader #idol x male reader #fanfiction #kpop #nct #nct x male reader #jung jaehyun x male reader #jaehyun x male reader #jung yunoh x male reader

453 notes · View notes

cynettic · 3 years ago

Note

Hello, can I request a reaction with childe, albedo, xiao and diluc where their SO is pretty clumsy and one day, they (the characters) just snap and say mean things? Please end it with comfort or something nice, my heart isnt strong enough to handle full angst :')

Clumsy S/O x Genshin

Summary - As someone clumsy, the genshin boys often pay special attention to your little accidents and mishaps. One day they snap, comforting ending though ;-;

Pairings - ClumsyReader x Childe / Albedo / Xiao / Diluc

Warnings - A bit of possessive behaviour for Xiao- but otherwise, a tad bit of angst at the beginning of each one.

A/N - After I wrote Albedo’s hc I realized that seeing him angry… would be really hot. Might write up a degradation one after-

Childe

“Stop it! It’s not funny anymore!”

It wasn’t surprising that once again, you’d managed to trip on your own feet and now somehow the vase sitting on the stool next to the couch had fallen… and broke.

But it was the first time you’d heard those words come from him.

“What do you mean… stop?”

Childe had never said anything about your clumsy antics, always picking you up and laughing or teasing the situation off. On the occasion that you got hurt, he’d tend to your wounds and make you promise to be more careful. Of course there was always a next time, and next time, and text time…

Until Childe had enough.

“From falling- tripping over your feet and taking down everything with you! No one tumbles around this much… so either you’re just doing this for fun or- or…”

He began to realize after those words that he’d taken it too far. When glancing at your teary eyes and how your figure started to shake he knew he couldn’t take those words back.

He knew it wasn’t your fault, he knew you tried to be as careful as you could.

But it was so frustrating.

You were still laying on the ground from the fall, and he bent down to help you up. You didn’t look him in the eyes, and an empty feeling buried itself in his stomach when you stood up.

“I’m… sorry.”

It was you who spoke these words, shoulders still shaking. You knew it might’ve been frustrating or annoying for Childe.

The two of you are just standing there, Childe feeling ten times guiltier because you apologized, and you feeling terrible because you’d broken another vase and he’d yelled at you for it.

The two of you feel so bad about it- ;-;

It isn’t till Childe acts out and pulls you into a hug that you realize he felt bad for yelling at you. Sure he may have been frustrated, but it was only cause he was worried about your well being, he didnt want you getting hurt.

“Im sorry Y/n… I didn’t mean to act out like that. I know you're trying your best.”

Albedo

“What happened.”

It was supposed to come out as a question, his eyes trailing over the mess of his lab and the sorry pitiful state it was in.

It didn’t come out sounding like a question.

Seeing Albedo angry of all things was only a myth among the knights of Favonius, a joke to Klee, and a topic never brought up to the citizens of Monstadt.

Albedo? Mad?? Impossible.

Well, you were living proof that it indeed wasnt a myth to see the alchemist angry.

“I fell…” was all you said in response to his glare. “I wasn’t paying attention and I tripped against the table… I’m sorry…”

Of course you were sorry, just waiting for Albedo to get home and maybe scanning the lab and all his experiments while he was away. No bad intentions, but unfortunately your bad habit of tripping over your own feet summoned itself at the worst moments.

Usually, Albedo would catch you with utmost ease. A reflex he’d learned from Klee before she went sprinting out to cause more of a ruckus. If you were to get hurt, he’d usher or carry you back into his house before patching you up. It was always quick and painless, but he made you repeat why you’d fell and how to avoid it.

Albedo wouldn’t be comforting you now.

“You fell?” He simply asked, his tone menacing enough to know that it was something important in that jumble of experiments. “You seem to do that a lot nowadays don’t you?”

You’re at a loss for words, “I’ll help you clean it up… I didn’t mean to-”

Not wanting to mention how the glass shards had cut your hand, you stood up with wobbly knees to start picking up the pieces of glass. You were sure your boyfriend had put a lot of work towards this, and you felt terrible for having ruined it all.

Albedo isn’t a savage tho.

He notices the cut on your palm, and your shaky figure as you begin to clean up the mess you’d made. He knows that cleaning up the lab as soon as possible is important, but you’re still his top priority.

“Come here.”

When you don’t immediately go to him, he walks to you. Taking your wrists and getting a good view of the injury. He tugs you to the doorway to get you fixed up, and realizes that you’re shaking, a little bit too much…

“It… seems I was a bit too harsh earlier.” He fully faces you, expression softening. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t mean to, none of the items on the table were of any importance if it makes you feel better.”

Please let him wipe any stray tears if you do cry, he didn’t mean to sound so angry, and really doesn’t care too much about what was on that table. Poor man’s just had a tough day at work.

Xiao

“I worry for you, every single minute of every goddamn day- every moment that my eyes aren't on you! Why don’t you make it easier for me and just sit still?!”

Xiao is protective.

That fact is known, its accepted, you might even find it endearing.

But Xiao has lived a much longer life than you, he’s seen the people he loves crumple and drain away. Watched them fade from his life one at a time, so he’s dedicated to making sure you stick around.

He knows that eternity isn’t an option for you, so he makes sure that the time you both have together is s a f e . Which means yes, he will catch you every single time you fall. Especially if it’s off the Wangshu stairs that you somehow always trip on?

The poor boy worries excessively for you, so much that he will try to hurry up the process of clearing out the normal hilichurls or threats that lie around Liyue Port.

But on the very rare occasion that you somehow end up into trouble without him there…

You don’t yell “Xiao” like he told you to, you know he makes such an effort on making you safe, a bit too much… you don’t want to summon him to every trouble you have. You’re independent, one scrape isn’t going to kill you.

“I’m fine,” you simply say when he comes back to find your whole hand encompassed in bandages. “Just tripped.”

Xiao is not impressed.

He worries too much, far too much, and seeing you brush it off when he tries so hard to make sure you’re never in pain- he wishes you’d just sit still, wait for him and not trip on your own feet when doing such mundane things.

“I worry for you, every single minute of every goddamn day- every moment that my eyes aren't on you! Why don’t you make it easier for me and just sit still?!”

You’re obviously taken aback by the statement, “Xiao?” You offer him a comforting hug, trying to loosen his stiff muscles. “It’s impossible from protecting me from everything y’know… I appreciate your worry but I’m fine.”

But that’s a matter that is strained between the two of you, and will continue to be that way until either Xiao somehow lets go of his protective anxious faze, or you just accept it.

Either way, the boy will continue to catch you when you fall. Even if you broke apart from him, left him, you’d still occasionally feel the lightest touch when you trip over your feet and feel yourself steadied.

Diluc

“Are you doing this on purpose?!”

Just like Xiao, Diluc is fairly protective over you, especially if it concerns your health.

He’s often not quick enough to catch you, but instead picks you up in his arms and sits you on the table to make sure you’re not hurt.

You often get bruises, but nothing more serious. He makes sure to kiss them better- something you jokingly stated once, and he’s actually taken it seriously.

“Kissing it will make it feel better? You’re sure?”

Overall, Diluc was very understanding to your clumsy antics. Maybe even find it endearing on a hard day of work, either way, he’d never yell at you for it.

Until he had enough.

It’s exhausting, to hear something clatter and know that you’d probably tripped. Tripped and harmed yourself in one way or another, the options were infinite, and Diluc’s anxiety could heighten at the slightest crashing noise.

“Are you doing this on purpose?!”

Eventually it became too much and he asked you that exact question, hands tangling through his hair as he stared at you wide eyed, furious. There you were on the floor, just a single chair knocked down as you were beginning to shakily stand back up.

“No… of course not. I wouldn’t do these things for fun-“

It’s not like you enjoyed absentmindedly stumbling into objects, it just… happened. Diluc was usually so patient and understanding… so why?

“I know… it’s just...” he rubbed the temples on either side of his face with his thumbs, frown set in a line. “I keep worrying and worrying- every time I hear a noise like that…”

It doesn’t take long for him to sort this out through a conversation, and then settle that you need to be more mindful and careful, something you have to improve on. He will simply watch on the sidelines, catch you when he can, and coax you when you end up hurt.

#genshin impact oneshot #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin #genshin childe #genshin impact childe #genshin diluc #genshin impact diluc #genshin xiao #genshin impact xiao #genshin albedo #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #cynshealthysfw

1K notes · View notes

borrovved · 3 years ago

Text

warned you p.sh

pairing: tutor!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: smut, but at most suggestive for now

wc: 3k

warnings: mature content, cursing, mentions of erection, mentions of casual sex, y/n saying she’s screwing someone’s dad but she doesn’t lmfao

synopsis: y/n needs to pass calculus, and sunghoon needs to get laid

part 1/???

You were going to your snobby and strict private school, just walking to the beat of Sunmi blasting in your headphones. The pigtails got in the way of the headphones but you made it work. You were aiming for the cutesy innocent look today, regardless of if your whole grade thought you were some harlot. You’d rather call yourself a femme fatale, but what you’re really trying to reclaim as a raging bratty feminist is a bimbo.

Bimbos definitely need to keep their head up high with confidence, but seeing the latest AP calculus quiz on your desk with its 37% marked in red severely irked you in that it made you feel dumb, and not the good kind, the very small and insignificant kind. Bimbos don’t like feeling like that. You twirled your pigtail in your hand and tried to keep a neutral expression, holding in the heavy sigh you so badly need to exhale out. That’s when you heard it.

“How did she manage to score that low?” someone snickered.

“All that time spent on her back and not at a desk really paid off.” another person snickered. You really wanted to say you’ve actually got railed by their dad on his desk and that you’re quite adaptable on where you do it, but you didn’t wake up and choose violence today...and plus the teacher would’ve sent you to the office. Giving them attention would just fuel the fire that you can’t put out when you’re up against slut shaming vermin when you’re only a team of one. The bell rang, signaling your next class and before you were able to stand up and go, you were asked to stay for a few minutes afterwards along with someone else. That someone else being Park Sunghoon. You and Sunghoon walked to the desk of your teacher and stood before her.

“Now Y/N, I know that you haven’t been doing well in class so I decided to pair you up with Sunghoon as your tutor. I feel as though you would have great improvement after a few study sessions, considering big chapters are coming up to wrap up the semester, and now is the best time more than ever to get some aid that I can’t provide.” You peek over to Sunghoon and he glances at you briefly before looking back at the teacher.

“Is this mandatory?” you ask.

“If you want to pass this class, I strongly recommend that you let him help you. An alternative explanation could help.” You really had no other choice but to nod your head yes and go along with it.

“Good. Now that both of you are informed, hurry along before you’re late to your next class.” After both of you scurry out of the room, you walk ahead to your next class and feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Sunghoon, but you already knew that.” he says awkwardly while he hands you a post it note in neat handwriting. You eye it, then look up.

“You’re giving me your number?” you ask. He nods.

“Texting is the most efficient way to communicate with me since I have ice skating practice and student council related things to do.” he iterates. Before you even say a word, Sunghoon is already off to his next class, but you don’t miss the way he turns around to wave at you and yells “Text me!” in the hallway. You’ve gotten many stares before, from the way you carry yourself and from the way you purposely pull your uniform skirt higher because you think it would look best as a mini skirt, but this time, you heard whispers.

“Why is he talking to her?”

“Must be doing charity work.”

You smile. You can’t wait to tell your best friend Sunoo what just happened at lunch.

“The ice prince is doing what now?” Sunoo says with fruit gummies in his mouth.

“He’s helping me with calculus. And gave me his number.” you say while grabbing for a piece of candy to which Sunoo lets you grab a few.

“So…what’s the plan here?” Sunoo says with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll text him right now and have some fun.”

“You whore! What do you mean have some fun?” Sunoo asked not subtly with his booming voice.

You roll your eyes. “You know the drill. I think he’s an easy target. I’ll be my cute charming self and see what happens.”

“You mean you’ll be a man eater and devour that poor innocent boy whole?”

“You know me so well.” you say, grinning ear to ear. You whip out your phone and compose a text.

You: Hey Sunghoon, it’s Y/N, are you free after school today?

Unknown: Hey, and yes. Where would you like to study?

You: I’m more comfortable at my house where there’s less distractions. The library is too quiet for me and I like some white noise.

Sunoo peeks over your shoulder and says, “He responds fast.”

You smile, “Right?”

You start typing right away, but notice the three dots before you get to send anything.

Unknown: Sounds good, I’ll meet you after school :)

Sunoo gasps. “A smiley? A smiley!” You giggle at his reaction.

“It’s just an emoticon silly.” you say.

“It’s going to be water droplets and eggplants soon though.” Sunoo said in a sing song voice. You can’t help but laugh at your easily giddy best friend. You had big, big plans to get your prey, and you were going to have your fun in the process of passing calculus while you’re at it.

English literature wasn’t the most fun class in the world with talking about MacBeth and all, however, the fun part was daydreaming about Sunghoon. You have fancied the boy for the longest time casually but thought he was a little too vanilla for you. And you don’t like admitting it, a little too good for you with being a smart hardworking boy with his head on steady shoulders while yours just bobbled to whatever. Anyhow, you needed danger. A little spice, and everything delectably nice. He didn’t seem the type to be rough enough.

He was however tall, lean, and achingly adorable. Handsomely crafted, so soft spoken, and knew when to shut up unlike every boy you’ve slept with thus far. He’s a nice target.

The bell rang, and you were quite surprised to see Sunghoon standing by your locker while you’re on your way there.

“Sunghoon!” you say cheerfully, making sure there was a bounce in your step, very glad you’re not wearing a bra today. For some reason the air conditioning wasn’t working today at school so you used this as an excuse to unbutton a few buttons earlier on your white crisp button up. You can see very clearly Sunghoon gulp and you can’t help but do your eye smile at this, and he does a soft grin in return.

“How did you figure out where my locker was?” you say as you tilt your head. Sunghoon couldn’t help but think the simple gesture of a head tilt was so charming.

He shrugs. “I was going to text you but I knew you would be in class, so I looked at some documents to find out which locker it was. You know, student council perks.”

“Ah.”

“Please don’t find it creepy.”

“I won’t, you dork.” You bend over to reach your locker since it was on the bottom row. Sunghoon stepped aside to let you open your locker, and his breath hitches in his throat. Seeing the back of your thighs in a skirt that was hiked up higher than it was supposed to was bewitching. He felt like he was in a trance and lingered his eyes on your legs for quite a while. Your skirt was just at the edge of the curvature of your ass, leaving some to the imagination but not much. You knew exactly what you were doing. You had many cheap tricks up your sleeve, and you were going to use them to your advantage. You could practically feel his gaze on you and you can’t help but smirk as you grab your calculus textbook along with your pencil bag, still bent over taking your time putting the items in your backpack. Sunghoon knows he has to stop staring or otherwise this won’t look good for him.

“Ready to go?” you say with a smile. It takes a moment for him to process what just happened and he’s all the while wondering how did your legs not hurt when you didn’t crouch to the ground all the way.

“Of course.”

The walk to your home was pleasant, you looked down at your shoes often and Sunghoon mapped out what sections you two were to go over in the textbook, including the homework that was assigned today. You asked him how his classes went and he responded after pausing to mull over his thoughts.

“It’s okay. Nothing exciting happened other than right now.” he says, looking at you while giving you his undivided attention. You can’t help but admire the beauty that is Sunghoon. His soft looking hair that frames his face nicely and the way he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform slacks make him look so boyishly handsome and breathtaking.

It takes a moment for you to respond. “What about right now is so exciting?”

He gently smiles and looks away from you. “I don’t tutor people often. Every once in a while I get asked to help students about a few things but never really spend enough time with them to consider it tutoring. And the change of pace on how I manage my time is much needed. I don’t interact with different people often, so this is...nice.”

Your heart races as the clouds take over the blue sky slowly. You notice just how pretty the cute moles on his face are as your gaze lingers on them for a bit. He does that stupid charming smile that makes you giddy and you blush, picking up the pace. You start turning while walking backwards just to give him your undivided attention.

“We should walk faster, Sunghoon. It might start drizzling.”

Both of you entered your home and took your shoes off at the front door. Sunghoon took a quick glance at your home, to which he said “this is a cozy house.” You tell him your bedroom is the coziest spot in the house, and let him trail behind you as you go up the stairs, and he doesn’t miss the way your pretty and dainty hand smooths over the railing as you walk up. Entering your room, he noticed the pink canopy bed right away, and the pink heart shaped pillow on it. There were so many details in just one spot, with the floral comforter and lights attached to the tulle. It was pretty and graceful. Light and airy. Soft.

“You can sit on the bed. Let me get changed out of this uniform, it’s so hot in this blazer.” you say as you start to strip in front of your closet, looking away from Sunghoon. Now, Sunghoon doesn’t see himself as a pervert, so therefore, when he noticed you unbuttoning your white button up and could only see the smoothness of your back and notice there was no bra in sight, his cheeks flushed. He quickly turned the other cheek and looked anywhere else but you. Unfortunately, perhaps fortunately, you had a full length mirror with fake pink roses running along its sides across your room. Sunghoon tried really, really hard to look at the curve of the pink petals and not at the curve of your breasts when you turned to the side slightly, but he failed so horribly. He could see himself and his cheeks were beet red. The bulge in his pants was so noticeable too. He quickly placed his backpack on his lap and winced at how heavy it was against him. Why did that kinda feel good?

You turn around wearing your school uniform skirt still but this time with a bright red crop top and of course, no bra. Sunghoon is dying and he can’t help but stare at how prominent your nipples are through the thin material. You take the pigtails down and he loves the way your hair cascades down your shoulders once it’s out of its confines of a scrunchie. He blinks once, twice, many times. Maybe if he sees only the back of his eyelids long enough he will stop picturing you naked. It doesn’t work, and you just stand with your hands on your hips and a lilt to your voice.

“Are you thirsty?” you say sweetly, knowing your tricks are working.

“Uh, y-yeah. Do you have water? Can I have water please?” Sunghoon is so precious.

“Of course you can.”

You really are a chintzy whore at best. Your excuse for not sitting at the desk of your room to study was that there was only one comfy study chair, and that you didn’t feel like bringing the dining room chair upstairs. That’s understandable, right? You could’ve however used the chair at your vanity, but that’s just a padded stool with no back to it. Wouldn’t want you or Sunghoon to forget and lean back too far and fall to your doom. So you told Sunghoon that you would rather study in your bed.

You played a little playlist in the background, something mellow and soft and not too distracting. Every once in a while Sunghoon will ask what song it is, and you respond with a chipper in your voice.

“Oh, this one is Sex and Sadness by Madi Sipes and the Painted Blue!”

“That’s one hell of a title.” he chuckles.

“It sure is. The lyrics are so...pretty? I can’t put it into words. The part where it talks about ‘stained glass loved lace’ gets me every time. And ‘whispering words into the singer’s skin.’ It’s romantic.” Sunghoon notices how there’s a certain dazzling feature in your eyes as you talk about the song. He wants to stare in your eyes, but alas you have to finish this one problem. Sunghoon prioritizes responsibilities over such silly, frivolous things that only he notices.

“So tell me how you’re going to solve this problem.” Sunghoon says swiftly while grabbing the glass of water on your nightstand.

You stare at the problem and try your best to concentrate. You really do. But you can’t help the way Sunghoon’s hand looks lazily placed on his thigh. Without much thought, you trace a finger on the back of his hand and say, “Your hands are so veiny.”

“Y/N.”

“And big.”

Well that’s a first, Sunghoon thinks. He knows he’a good looking, a bunch of girls swoon over him at school and at the rink all the time. The most common compliment he gets is on his eyes, and maybe hair, but not on his hands of all things. You’re fascinated by them, and you won’t stop tracing along the veins. Your touch sets his skin ablaze, and it doesn’t seem like you’re finishing this problem any time soon.

“Let’s take a break. I think you’re getting distracted because your brain is all fried.” Sunghoon says softly, still letting you continue playing with his hand.

“I’m getting distracted because I have a pretty boy in my bed.” you giggle. You finally look up and see how pink his cheeks are from blushing.

He starts to stammer “You’re the one that wants to study in your bed!” His voice is a little pitched and you can’t contain your laughs.

“Do you want to move to the desk then?” you ask.

He shakes his head and mumbles a “no.” A few moments pass and you almost didn’t hear what he says next because it’s under his breath.

“I’ve never been called pretty before.”

“Gasp.” you say, lightheartedly.

“No but like, I’ve been called handsome, smart, a little weird, but not pretty.” Sunghoon replies. A moment of silence passed, and you started to ponder.

“There’s a song called Pretty Boy in my playlist somewhere.”

You go over to your laptop and click on The Neighbourhood song. You sway your hips gently and get lost into the music. Sunghoon just gazes at you as you move along to the steady pulse of the music and let the melodies feel you instead of the other way around. You do a little twirl and waltze your way to your bed, grabbing his hand.

“Dance with me.”

He obliged, wordlessly.

He takes in the words of the lyrics and closes his eyes. If he can’t see how close he is to you right now, it feels less real. It feels less scary. Not that you’re scary, Sunghoon doesn’t think girls with pink heart shaped pillows are scary. What’s scary is you laughing at his boner because he hasn’t been this close to a girl before since a random winter formal he had in grade school. The girl wasn’t all that nice since she dipped to dance with his friend. You’re much softer and nice. More delicate. You even smell nicer. God, your little hands enclosed together behind his neck and his big hands on your waist feels too good to be true. He can feel your gaze on him.

“Sunghoon, open your eyes.” He does, and his breath hitches and you look down, because you definitely feel something poking you and it wasn’t there before.

“I have to go, I have a curfew and it’s getting late, I’ll walk myself out.”

“Sunghoon I can at least walk you down-“

“No, seriously. I can go by myself. Thank you though.”

He’s so wide eyed and his cheeks are so rosy and he dashes away like his life depends on it. And you didn’t even get to kiss him.

#sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon scenario #sunghoon suggestive #sunghoon smut #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon imagine

312 notes · View notes

nobodyfamousposts · 4 years ago

Text

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why... ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well.

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh.

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it.

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..."

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

572 notes · View notes

blu-joons · 4 years ago

Text

When He’s Caught Wearing An Item Of Your Clothing ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

As soon as he went live the comments filled with fans taking note of the red fleece that he was wearing for his stream. He tugged on the ends of the sleeves as he tried hard to pretend as if the fleece was his own, but they all knew better.

“I didn’t manage to convince you, did I?” He chuckled, sighing in defeat. “I found this lying around our house this morning and it looks so comfortable; you all know I like thick hoodies,” he laughed, just as you walked into the room.

“I knew that was mine when I watched you come up on the screen.”

“I guess you just shouldn’t have left it lying around, it’s mine now anyway.”

Your head shook, taking a step back so you weren’t on the camera, “you’re lucky your fans are watching right now otherwise I would make sure you gave me my jumper back.”

“If the fans hadn’t of flooded the comments, I bet you wouldn’t have even noticed.”

“I can recognise my own jumper,” you groaned, rolling your eyes across at him. “I’m stealing one of yours as compensation by the way.”

“Wait! That’s unfair, they’re my hoodies.”

Yoongi:

The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile as he opened the link, he’d been sent by his manager to see a photo of him from yesterday wearing a beanie you’d also been photographed in just a couple of weeks prior.

“I’ve been caught,” Yoongi smiled, handing his phone across to you, “now everyone’s going to know that I steal your clothes,” he then sighed, leaning back on the sofa. “People are going to think I’m soft now.”

“Maybe this will teach you to stop stealing my clothes then.”

“It’s my fault your beanies are so big, they just fit my head so well.”

You glanced at the article, the two of you almost looked identical. “You do realise the fans are not going to let you forget this, your reputation has fallen apart now.”

“This is why this is so bad, how am I supposed to carry on pretending to be moody?”

“There’s nothing wrong with people knowing you’re in love,” you reminded him, “plus, I think you look great in my beanies, so I’m not complaining.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be a bad thing for people to know.”

Hoseok:

Jungkook was the first one to spot Hoseok’s brightly coloured shoes as he walked into the dance studio, covering his smile with his hand. Only he wasn’t quite as subtle as Hobi looked across at him trying to figure out what was wrong.

“There’s no way that those shoes are yours,” Jungkook quickly pointed out, “please don’t tell me you’ve reached that stage where you’ve started raiding Y/N’s wardrobe? I swear I’ve seen her wearing those before.”

“All my shoes are dirty, I wanted to wear some clean ones for the recording.”

“Does she know that you’ve taken them? If you make a mess of them, she’ll kill you.”

His head shook shamefully, “I’m just going to pray that she doesn’t notice, and I don’t scuff them. If I do, then it’s on me to buy her some new ones, and these weren’t cheap either.”

“I think she’ll notice that her bright red pair of trainers is missing, she’s not an idiot.”

“Let’s just not say anything,” Hobi acknowledged, spinning the shoes around to check over them, “they’ll go home tonight in the same condition.”

“I bet you that you’ll end up ruining them.”

Namjoon:

He continued to read through a few more questions on the live, letting fans know about where the group was in regard to the comeback, album, tour, and a few more personal things, before a question with your name caught his eyes.

“What’s the story about my new bracelet?” He read out, glancing at his wrists and the brown bangle around it. “This was bought by Y/N, she’s got one too. It’s to celebrate our anniversary that just passed, I really like them.”

You were just about to walk into the room when you stopped hearing the topic of conversation.

“She’s got a really good eye for things that I like, she knows me really well,” he continued.

You smiled softly as he shared with the fans a few other things that you’d bought him over the years, waiting until the conversation changed to finally walk in and grab what you needed.

“What are you talking about?” You innocently smiled, looking over his set up.

“I know you were listening,” he laughed, “I could see the end of your foot poking out through the door frame, you’re not as subtle as you think.”

Sorry, it just made me happy to listen to you.”

Jimin:

The studio lights came back up as the programme came back from the break. The interviewer looked across all the boys before settling their eyes on Jimin. “We’ve seen a lot of comments today talking about your choice of shirt Jimin.”

“This thing,” he smiled, lifting the material up at the shoulders. “This is actually courtesy of my girlfriend, which is why social media is going crazy. Some of her shirts are too good for me not to wear on screen to show off.”

“What does she think about you stealing her clothes? I bet her wardrobe is empty.”

“She doesn’t know I took this, so she’s probably watching this at home now absolutely raging.”

All of the boys chuckled as they knew exactly how you’d be reacting at home. “Shall I set the sofa up at my house now for you to tonight?” Taehyung teased.

“Once she realises that I pull it off better than she does she’ll realise it was good I took it.”

“You’re digging yourself a big hole,” Namjoon warned, pressing his hand to his face, “you’re supposed to say sorry at this point.”

“I’m not apologising when her clothes are so nice.”

Taehyung:

He was very aware as the interview began that his decision to wear a hat would be discussed on social media as he sat down, and as the segment came up to look through Twitter remarks, it was only a matter of time.

“Taehyung why are you wearing Y/N’s hat,” the MC read out, flicking through a few of the replies. “Some of the fans seem to think they’ve seen Y/N wearing that before in a photo of the two of you, is it yours now?”

“It’s not, it’s hers. I just needed something desperately to cover my hair today.”

“You’re well known for your collection of hats, was one of yours not more suitable?”

His cheeks quickly began to flush red as he struggled to find an answer. “It was just convenient to grab this one, plus the colour matches my outfit, none of mine would have matched the same.”

“Well, it seems your fans are huge fans of you raiding Y/N’s wardrobe to solve a bad hair day.”

“She was actually the one who suggested the hat,” he noted, “so all of the credit for this needs to go to her really, not me.”

“I’m sure all of the fans will be quick to thank her for the idea.”

Jungkook:

It had been the one topic he didn’t want to come up during the entire live with the boys, but as the live was about to come to an end, Jin couldn’t help but bring up exactly what Jungkook didn’t want to hear.

“Someone accidentally shrunk their jeans in the wash the other day,” he began, tapping against Jungkook’s thigh. “So, he’s coming to you live today actually wearing his girlfriend’s jeans because he doesn’t have any.”

“They were the only ones I could find this morning, it’s not like I meant to wear them.”

“You could have come to one of us for a pair of jeans, but you just Y/N’s.”

He frowned as Hobi chimed in, only adding to his embarrassment. “You’d be surprised how comfortable women’s jeans can be, I think I’ve found my new favourite pair in these.”

“I don’t think she’ll be quite as willing to give her jeans up for you to wear.”

“I know her weakness,” he laughed, “trust me, I’ll find a way to convince her to give up these jeans for me to wear from now on.”

“You’re brave getting between a woman and her clothes.”

---

Masterlist

592 notes · View notes

aminiatureworld · 3 years ago

Text

Opposites

Characters: Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,594

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader is the brain and Xiao is the brawn

Author’s Note: I wasn’t sure what the general setting should be so I put it in a vaguely college/university setting. Prolly cause that’s around my age and also because I cordially dislike highschool AUs. Hopefully that works out alright!

I had to type out almost 2,000 words on my iphone. I never want to do that again.

Xiao

Honestly none of your friends are actually sure how you two got together.

After all, if someone were to take a picture of you and your partner side-by-side then show it to people not in the know, well the prevailing emotion would be something along the lines of: “Are they classmates or neighbors or something?”

To be fair, when the two of your first met even the idea that you would ever end up in love was something laughable. Having been pushed together for a project, your knee-jerk reaction had been: Oh I’m totally going to end up doing this all by myself.

Thankfully however you’d been quickly proven wrong. Although Xiao hadn’t necessarily been the best about planning and other such things, his work was organized and he always showed up to every meeting with his parts completed.

By the end of the project you never wanted to work with another person on a group project again.

And, to be completely honest, you’d definitely developed a crush on your slightly aloof group partner.

Xiao’s reaction was much harder to read.

At first he appeared to want nothing to do with you. Work was emailed to you with not so much as a subject line; meetups passed in awkward silence broken by tentative questions on your part. You’d sort of assumed that he saw you as annoying and the group work as useless - which to be fair it sort of was useless.

So when he emailed you a few weeks later asking for your number and if you wanted to do something, well, safe to say you almost fell out of your chair.

Though the start was a little awkward, Xiao’s conversational nature didn’t develop much in general, you two fell into a routine of sorts, a relationship of unspoken boundaries and spontaneous confidences.

During the first few weeks of you odd sort of relationship you’d come to the conclusion that, though not a talker, Xiao was ultimately quite apathetic in nature. Eventually however you realized apathetic wasn’t the right term.

Though he might’ve appeared sullen on the outside, Xiao never actually acted in a way that hinted at any resentment or irritation; he never dragged his feet about something or implied it was stupid that you should ask for help or for a favor.

His assertiveness, which might’ve been mistaken for aloofness, was endearing. Xiao never half-asses anything, even when if wasn’t doing something for another person, like you.

You appreciated this side of his personality, the fact that he was quick to act, admired if even. It certainly stood in stark contrast to your tendency to overthink things, something that could quickly end up kneecapping you depending on what decisions were being debated.

It was an alien concept to you, the sort of philosophy Xiao seemed to live by, and its novelty was refreshing.

As your thoughts slid more and more to focusing on Xiao you became more and more aware of the rumors that abounded about him.

He was a troubled youth, he was prone to fighting, he had been so uncontrollable in secondary school that only one teacher had been able to get him to do anything. The only times he spoke was to wound, and he never had a word to say that wasn’t angry.

Well, obviously that wasn’t the truth, but any attempt to clear up the situation was quickly met with odd stares and responses that all smacked of: “Oh you poor idiot, you just haven’t learned yet.”

You would’ve liked to think that you didn’t let it affect your relationship with him, but evidently the rumors had begun to catch up to you.

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Have I?” You shifted awkwardly in your seat. Xiao sighed, evidently aware of where this was going.

“It’s because of what people say about me, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“I see.”

That had been the beginning and the end of the conversation for quite some time, almost as if Xiao had yet to decide whether or not you were one of the few in whom he could entrust the truth. Yet despite the rumors and the odd looks you still found yourself gravitating towards Xiao, and soon enough that initial pull turned into something much deeper.

The day that you two became “official” was the day Xiao told you the truth. He had been a delinquent as a teenager.

Born into a family full of troubles Xiao shouldered the circumstances as best he could.

However things cannot stay untouched forever; the distress that Xiao experienced only grew, the pressure ratcheting up with every incident, every item thrown to the ground, every fight that ended in humiliating pain.

Eventually it became too much, and when it did Xiao took his anger out not on his family, not on the people who had failed him, but on any classmate who antagonized the vulnerable child.

Fights became a regular part of Xiao’s life until university, and it was only in meeting his mentor, Zhongli, that the lost young man had managed to pull his life together.

Things made more sense after that, though one couldn’t say that everything was right with the world. Students, coworkers, the particularly idiotic TA, all of them still carried the sense that Xiao was not to be trusted. You could see how it upset your partner sometimes, when he was ignored at the coffeeshop or excluded from class group chars in the like.

Whenever he did that Xiao tended to retreat into himself, as if worried he might explode again. It took a lot of coaxing to get him out of such situations but it was always worth it to see your partner’s expression soften, to see his small smile once more.

What you didn’t tell him was that you were just as angry as he was, just as resentful at the people within your major which were hellbent on acting like they were still in high school.

Eventually however the trials of your early were utterly forgotten, the questions and the secrets replaced by a sense of slightly hilarious domestic bliss.

You were definitely the brains of the group, something Xiao didn’t seem to mind - though he probably would find that actual statement somewhat silly.

Xiao, on the other hand, held the esteemed position of Person Who Actually Got Stuff Done. You relied on him to get you out of your mental spirals, to pull you out of your room and out of your brain fog and to get you to do something; even if it wasn’t the thing you were thinking about.

In return it was your job to make sure Xiao didn’t get himself killed doing something stupid.

Xiao’s reticence masked an almost supernatural recklessness. Though your partner didn’t own a motorbike, if he had you were completely convinced he’d ride one without a helmet. His almost total disinterest in his own safety was something that you brain shrunk from, and more often than not a crazy plan of his would end with you listing the terrible things that might happen if something were to go wrong, even if those things weren’t always the most realistic.

There was a storm in twenty minutes? It was the perfect time for a walk! There was cavern nearby with tunnels were so tight you had to walk single file? Sure why not!

He would talk about such things as if there was nothing to it, as if it didn’t send your heart rate spiking. There wasn’t the slightest acknowledgment of danger. Even his tone was as gruff as usual, as if it was the most natural thing to want to go mountain climbing, not interesting enough to get even a little excited about.

It was probably good he did martial arts. You didn’t even want to think about where all that energy would go otherwise.

Xiao’s straightforward nature came out in softer ways too, ways that you envied much more than his full-steam-ahead recklessness.

He was never afraid to state what was on his mind. Whether it was correcting a waiter who got his order wrong or telling a rude doormats to fuck off, all these things were natural to him.

To be honest you completely envied that aspect of him, unable go replicate such a mindset in yourself.

When you’d commented on it once Xiao had stared oddly at you. After a moment he told you that he figured it came from his background. Sometimes you had to learn how to say “no” or “that’s wrong” or “you’re a shitty person.”

Just as you tried to curb the most extreme parts of Xiao’s recklessness, so too did Xiao work to bring you out of the spirals your mind went down sometimes, and so did he try to coax you out of the overthinking that kept you from asserting yourself in your life.

Saying you two were complete opposites wouldn’t really be accurate. You shared similar views, similar passions, similar opinions on what mattered. Yet it was true that, in some ways, you complemented one another. And when it came to those traits in which you differed, well you would like to think that your differences just made you stronger as a couple.

Maybe your friends couldn’t understand how you two got together, or why you were so deeply in love with the person you’d chosen to be your partner. But you didn’t care.

You loved Xiao with all your soul, and, at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

#genshin impact fanfiction #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin xiao #requested #headcanons #my writing

154 notes · View notes

roanniom · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Issa, my sweet honey bun! I don’t send many requests to people, so bear with me. I’ll forever wait for the day you write Kylo, but until then I’ll throw this one at you for Charlie. I had a wander through the prompt list, and I kinda liked “I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.” with Charlie being all protective of reader, unsure if she reciprocates his feelings. And because I’m a garbage can of filth, I also loved “I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me.” if you wanted to move into smut. I hope this gets the creative juices flowing? Take your time, no pressure ever! 💕💕💕

@paper-n-ashes as you know I have been holding onto this and chipping away at it steadily for FOREVER so I can get it just right for you, so I hope you enjoy it, my love <3

Push

Charlie Barber x Reader

Word Count: 6,862

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, PIV sex / unprotected sex, light light light choking (not even really), mention of infidelity (just canon from Marriage Story plot), a lil post-divorce angst/lack of confidence

The above photo is Charlie Barber, 1-year post divorce. He’s been working out as a form of anger management and because Henry, over many late night phone conversations, has shared his new love of hiking, a pastime he’s picked up since living in LA. Charlie plans to take Henry hiking on the Appalachian trail next summer break and wants to be on tip top shape to keep up with his enthusiastic son.

He’s been to therapy. Learning more about what went wrong in his marriage, but more specifically learning about how he can become a better person in the aftermath. How infidelity and self-interest were born of a deep-seated need for a love that he was not receiving. A love that was no closer to him prior to his indiscretions but all the same rendered unreachable as a result. He’s given himself time to grieve the man he’d thought himself to be. Because that is what had died with his marriage - not Charlie Barber himself. But the Charlie Barber he’d built in his mind. A man limited by support that came with conditions, love that came with caveats. That Charlie was a father and a husband. He was often suppressed, wound tight, on edge.

This Charlie is a father and a man. He is free to celebrate his own success without fear of wounding nearby egos. He’s limited only by what he feels he deserves. And granted sometimes those self-imposed limitations can really hold him down, as they did when he vowed not to jump into any further entanglements - affairs or otherwise - in the time immediately following his divorce. But that limitation was ultimately beneficial. It gave him space to be alone - with himself, for himself. He was able to finally see his own flaws with his own eyes instead of having them recited back to him by another, as if through a crude, second hand reflection. And in seeing these flaws, he also saw the virtues. Charlie was actually starting to like himself again.

And this is when he meets you.

You storm into his life with an energy he doesn’t recognize, introduced at a party by a friend of a friend, filling his senses with your too-loud-laughter and too-bright-eyes. In many ways that’s how he sees you: too much. Your enthusiasm makes you appear too young, though in truth you’re not that much younger than him. Your smile makes you appear too beautiful, though in truth there are often much more conventionally attractive women in the room at any given time.

“Charlie. Charlie Barber,” Charlie mutters as he shakes your hand. Its warm in his larger one and he’s suddenly a little self-conscious of the fact that he’d been holding his sweating scotch on the rocks just moments before the contact.

“Hello Charlie-Charlie Barber,” you reply with a massive grin, shaking his hand back vigorously and with seemingly no reaction to its clamminess. “The famous director, I assume?”

Charlie clocks the quirk of your eyebrow. A tease. A social cue he’s not used to. Not these days. He looks down at his worn tennis shoes, all too aware all at once of the way they dress down his sweater and jeans. He feels rumpled next to you and he’s not sure he likes it. You’re too put together.

You’re too honest, too fearless, too open to new things. Though Charlie’s beginning to grow, your presence reminds him of how stunted he’d been in his marriage. How the same old restaurants, the same old clothes, the same old glass of the same old scotch had become items of comfort for him, talismans of a previous life that he clung to for some semblance of familiarity. Around you, however, those same old things looks dull and uninspired. Quite the opposite of you.

You are the one to ask him out, though he’s not even really aware that it’s a date at all when he arrives. That’s how much he doesn’t see you coming. His affair had been one of convenience. An opportunity to blow off excess steam, and a pretty disappointing one at that, with neither party really find what they were chasing. His marriage had grown cold long before it had ended. All of this to say that Charlie wasn’t very familiar with warmth. With interest that occurred in the light of day, and attention that was given without anything sought in return.

You’re halfway through lunch before you realize that he doesn’t understand your intentions. So you explain them to him. Clear and empty of any pretense. You are attracted to him and interested in getting to know him further. It’s simple, really. He’s shocked by your openness and the absence of any games. In another life he’d once assumed that a relationship without strife, without agony, without strategic tug of war would be one without passion. However, as he soon learns while taking you out on the second date, that he couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Over dinner this time he finds himself getting lost in your micro-expressions. Finds his eyes lingering on the animated way you gesture, finds his words getting twisted in his tongue as your gaze weighs on him, expectant and waiting for a response to some question. His bodily responses to your attention are no less potent in the absence of angst. In fact, he is surprised to find that his yearning practically triples when you part ways and he realizes not once had he been made to feel like he had to prove something, or fight, or challenge.

He learns over time that you challenge him in other ways. Challenge him when it comes to picking restaurants outside his comfort zone. Challenge him by dragging him, mid-lunch date, on a shopping trip with you, a trip where you gently help him to finally replace the worn out tennis shoes to which he’d been clinging. Challenge him by laughing with him, not at him, even when the subject of the humor is himself. Your laughter is lighter, more carefree, than he is used to. Then again, he’s not used to being around someone like you.

He kisses you after the third date – the lunch-turned-shopping trip. It’s quick and it’s light, on the curb before an intersection on the East Side, right before you both are about to walk in separate directions. You say nothing when he pulls away. Just smile and turn on your heel, already headed to your next destination. It drives Charlie crazy over the next few days. Not because he assumes you have some hidden agenda. On the contrary, he’s horrified that your interior thoughts match your exterior actions. You have been nothing but honest with him. It is Charlie who has been oscillating wildly in his mind. Between thoughts of how much it might hurt if you turn out to be too good to be true and thoughts of how much he’d love to feel your body on his. To explore the mouth you use so effortlessly to tease him, to compliment him, to charm him. You speak kindness like pleasantries, as if affirmations and praise were as easy to dole out as a cheery “good morning” on a stress-free Saturday. Charlie wants to know what you’re like on a Saturday. Away from the bustle of the city. Away from the common friends and the crowded shops and restaurants that have buffered all of your encounters.

But Charlie’s still afraid.

On your fourth date Charlie is more reserved when you arrive at the restaurant. You break the ice by pointing out that the formality of your dates is beginning to feel silly.

“Maybe it’s the fact that the tables have tablecloths,” you joke, swirling your pasta around a fork. “Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve never repeatedly had meals with someone I wasn’t already in a relationship with.”

Charlie prickles at the implication, taking a labored swallow of ice water. He doesn’t want to comment on the relationship part of your sentiment so he chooses something more neutral.

“Should I remind you that two of these meals have been at your suggestion and you did, in fact, also plan them as meals.” He relaxes a bit when you laugh heartily at that, relieved that the conversation doesn’t get any more dicey.

“Touché,” you reply. Then you lean forward and whisper conspiratorially at him across the small table. He feels himself lean in, curious but also looking for a chance to just get closer in proximity. He wishes he’d had the courage to sit next to you rather than across from you when he’d first sat down. “Feeling adventurous enough to let me pick where we go after this tonight?”

And Charlie feels adventurous. Adventurous as he lets you whisk him across town and to your favorite arcade bar. Adventurous as he passes you a large handful of quarters he got from the little machine at the front, only to grasp your fist in his when he miscalculates how much of his handful you’d be capable of taking, narrowly avoiding a massive spill of loose change on the floor. Adventurous as he orders a couple of beers and lets you show him your favorite game, Burger Time – a silly little maze game where you collect burger ingredients. Adventurous as he shows you his favorite game, which is pretty much any pinball machine known to man.

“Yours looks cooler than mine,” you huff, walking over to the pinball machine he’s playing once you abandon the one that was definitely broken. Or at least that’s how you justify so many consecutive, immediate losses. Charlie laughs and pulls back the plunger but doesn’t release, effectively pausing his game.

“You wanna try it?” Charlie ushers you in front of him and puts your hand on the plunger beneath his, careful not to release it in the process. “The key is anticipating where the ball will go. It’s all about patterns after a while.”

“Then why does it seem so random?” you ask, looking up at him over your shoulder.

“You just haven’t played enough yet. Over time you can predict what will happen if the ball hits a certain corner. Where it will go if it ricochets juuust right at the last second.”

“Sounds fake but I’ll let you prove it to me,” you say with a laugh, focusing your attention back on the machine.

“We’ll let go in one…two…three.” When you feel the pressure of his hand let up you let go as well, letting him guide both your hands immediately to the buttons on the side of the machine.

For as great as his theory of pinball predictability is, he probably underestimates your ability to suck. Because you do, hard. But you laugh the whole way through, and you never quit. Never turn to him in frustration asking to do something else or even to leave. Instead you keep feeding quarters into the machine and bringing your hands back under Charlie’s on the machine. And no matter how shitty you are, you always at least try to focus.

Charlie, meanwhile, is having a very hard time focusing on anything that isn’t your body. His hips bracket your ass in this helpful position he’s adopted, and he feels your pressure against his pelvis with every enthusiastic wriggle and little jump of frustration that you take in response to the game. When he makes the unfortunate mistake to look down over your shoulder at one point he’s met with a direct view of your cleavage, exposed as it is in your low-cut blouse. Charlie begins to sweat and it has nothing to do with how packed the arcade is or with the exertion of gaming. When he remembers that the arcade is also a bar, he excuses himself to get more beer, hoping that one will cool him off and cool him down.

You dazzle him with a smile thrown over your shoulder when he approaches with the two fresh bottles, and he’s not prepared for how the sight of your face almost knocks him back on his ass.

“Charlie! I did better this time!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, handing you your beer which you sip gratefully.

“I lasted a few more minutes than last time,” you elaborate proudly. “So I’d say that means I now qualify as a pinball wizard.”

“Move over Elton John,” Charlie says with a smirk. You slap him in the shoulder and immediately engage him in a spirited discussion of whether the Elton John movie version of “Pinball Wizard” was better than The Who’s version from the original album. However, after a few minutes Charlie realizes he’s lost in thought. Lost in your voice. Lost in your expressions. Lost in you.

When it finally comes time to leave the arcade, the night drawing much later than it had on your previous nighttime date, Charlie’s scared he’ll be lost without you. The two of you walk together for a couple of blocks before you reach that similar intersection. The place where you part ways.

“I think we really turned around that formality thing, don’t you?” you ask him, turning to Charlie and leaning back against the column of a pedestrian sign. Charlie moves into your space, swallowing his hesitation.

“I don’t know, I began to feel a little unworthy when you ascended past the role of pinball wizard.”

“Oh did I get a promotion?” You ask, tipping your head back so you can look up at him as he steps closer.

“The word wizard conjures up images of wizened old man,” Charlie says dismissively, as if that clears up everything.

“So if you’re saying I don’t remind you of a wrinkled old Merlin – to which might I say, shocker – then what exactly is my new title.”

“One that fits you inside and out.” Charlie braces a hand against the column above your head, his other in his pocket. His head dips down so that it’s closer to your face despite your height difference. You feel warm despite the slight chill in the air.

“And that would be Pinball….?” you prompt.

“Goddess,” he completes the title before pressing his lips to yours. His hands remain on the column and in his pocket until you reach forward and grab a fistful of his sweater, pulling him to you. Then his hands are at your waist, pushing you back into the column. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair and he can’t breathe. But he doesn’t want to. He wants to suffocate, wants to asphyxiate on you and the way he feels so tethered to this moment, this intersection, this place where you cannot part ways.

When you break apart to, in fact, breathe, your chest heaves and your smile is radiant.

“As far as kisses goodnight go, I’d say that was top tier,” you say on a laugh. Suddenly Charlie’s throat is constricting and he has to fight his facial muscles to keep from frowning as his hands tighten on your waist.

“That wasn’t a kiss goodnight. Not yet.”

“Any longer and it’ll be a kiss good morning, sir. Have you seen the time?” Your tone is joking. You call people ‘sir’ all the time. It’s a weird quirk of yours, like calling someone dude or pal. But Charlie can feel himself choking on the word, as well as the implications of a ‘kiss good morning.’ All of a sudden he feels like if he could have only one more thing before dying, that’s what he’d ask for. But then he kicks himself internally for being so fucking dramatic and he fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“Exactly. It’s late.

You survey him from under your eyelashes with a small smile.

“I’ve made this walk many times.”

“It’s dark.”

“I’ve made this walk in the dark many times.”

“I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.”

Charlie’s heart clenches. Before he can overthink, you’ve ducked out of his hold, grasped his hand and started pulling him down the street.

“C’mon Charlie, hurry up. You’d keep a goddess waiting?” you toss back at him over your shoulder. But in truth it was taking all of Charlie’s self control and the fact that he didn’t know the way to your place to keep him from throwing you over his shoulder and breaking into a full sprint.

~*~

Your place is exactly like you. Eclectic, warm, inviting. There is a moment, as you pull off your coat and turn away to place it and Charlie’s on a coat rack, when Charlie feels much too big for the space. Like he’s some kind of giant invading the home of a sweet little wood nymph. But then his little wood nymph is grabbing him by the front of the shirt and dragging him to a bedroom and the worries fade right out the window.

At first Charlie is gentle with you. His hands ghost over your body as you kiss him beside your bed. When you push him to sit down on the edge of the mattress and step between his open legs to kiss him with a different height dynamic his heart just about jumps clear out of his chest. He hasn’t done this – hasn’t touched or been touched – in so long. The affair had been transactional, just the mechanical motions of sexual gratification. Sex with Nicole, before it stopped, had been even colder, almost as if she had been begrudgingly completing some unwelcome chore.

You, however, are like fire beneath Charlie’s fingers. Your skin, your lips – everything is so warm it feels like you’re too hot to touch. But Charlie would rather risk burning up than to not become accustomed to the feel, the shape, the substance of you. He smooths over your body with a reverential softness, his muscles tense with restraint so as to keep from accidentally pushing you too far too fast. To keep from handling the way that, deep down, he desperately needs.

When your lips suddenly leave his, his brow furrows in frustrations. Before he can open his eyes a soothing finger smooths the furrow away, sliding down the bridge of his nose to press against his kiss-swollen lips. Charlie opens his eyes with a question present in them and you cock your head to the side.

“You’re tense. Like you’re holding back.” The statement isn’t accusatory but it isn’t a question. Charlie takes a shaky breath, unsure about how much he should say. Would his desperation read as too dramatic? Too undesirable? Would his enthusiasm come across as pushy or dominating? His brow must furrow again because your hand moves back up, finger pressing out the wrinkles. He shrugs.

“It’s been…a while for me. I didn’t want to come across as too…much.”

You laugh then and yet again Charlie is struck by how strange it is that you can laugh in his face directly in response to something he’s said without making him feel like you are laughing at him.

“I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me, Charlie.”

“You’re sure about that?” Charlie huffs out with a little chuckle. You give him a smirk and say your next words up against his lips.

“Try me.”

You probably were expecting him to require more cajoling. You probably were expecting him to gradually ease into something more. But Charlie takes you by surprise, grabbing you and pulling you onto the bed with him, rolling so that you’re laid out beneath his body, all the while maintaining hungry possession of your mouth. His body finds its place between your legs and you gasp at the feeling of how huge he is. How hard and insistent against your softness. He drinks from you like a man whose thirst can not be quenched. His hands find purchase on your waist and he squeezes. So hard you’re sure you’ll bruise. You smile against his mouth with the realization that you look forward to watching them bloom later.

Since Charlie seems too preoccupied with groping and making out with you, it is you who eventually takes the next step, beginning to pop open the buttons on your blouse one by one. When Charlie feels the motion of your hands between your bodies he ultimately pulls back to investigate, mouth dropping open at the slow reveal of the lingerie you’re wearing beneath. His hand shoots out to caress the delicate lace of your bra, teasingly not applying any pressure to the breast beneath.

“Do you wear things like this often?” Charlie’s voice is already rough as he asks this. You shrug.

“Whenever I want to feel sexy.”

“You wanted to feel sexy while out with me?” Charlie asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“You made me feel sexier than the lace, Mr. Barber,” you say with a smile before leaning up to capture his lower lip between your teeth. He groans and moves to practically swallow you whole. You’re entirely foreign to him. Enthusiasm, amusement, and enjoyment bundled up into one devastatingly sexy package. There’s no shame in your movements, no angst in your eyes. Just humor. Only an unabashed pursuit of pleasure. And if it’s pleasure you want, it’s pleasure you’ll get.

Charlie now aids you in the process of removing the rest of your garments, so it goes much quicker. When you move to pull off your bra, however, he catches your wrist in his massive hand.

“No…can these stay on?” Your eyebrows shoot up but you notice the way that Charlie is gazing at you with eyes slightly hazy and tongue running over his lips.

“This doing it for you, Charlie?” you tease, shimmying a bit. Charlie’s answer is sincere regardless as he dips his head down to sample the plush skin at the line of your cleavage.

“You have no idea.”

“So you’re a lingerie man, huh?” When you ask he stops to think for a second because, truly, he had never considered himself that way before. He’d never had any reason to. Sure lingerie models in magazines were hot, but it’s not a specific fantasy he’d ever explored previously.

But the sight of you here, strategically covered in lace and laid out beneath him pretty as a picture has him so hard he feels like a teenager unable to control himself. So, as you had urged him, he doesn’t.

“I might be. But really, I’m just enamored by these tits.” His teeth sink into your flesh and you sigh, especially when his tongue comes out to lave warmly at the spot. He moves down your body then, peppering kisses to the exposed skin of your stomach, sliding until your inner thighs rest against the sides of his face and his hands dip below you to squeeze your ass. “Although I feel like this might end up being my favorite part.” He says this last part directly into your clothed cunt, his lips just barely ghosting over the fabric with his words.

You wiggle a bit in his grasp, loving the answering way his fingers dig into your soft flesh. Your fingers card into his lush hair, tugging lightly at the roots, a feeling that shoots through his body and straight to his rock hard member. The way he discretely ruts against the mattress in response does not go unnoticed by you, so you drop a hand under his chin to tip his face back up to look at you.

“Will you fuck me, Charlie?” Your voice is clear and bright. Not playing coy and requiring any convincing. Just asking for something you want. And the hunger in your eyes seems unmistakable, though it still feels to good to be true. Charlie drops his gaze back down to the wet spot forming in your panties before looking back up and practically pouting.

“I’d like to taste you,” he counters. A brilliant smile breaks out across your face at the sound of that but you shake your head.

“There’ll be time for that later,” you argue, tugging on his shoulder to get him back on top of you. “If you don’t get inside me right now I’ll die.”

Charlie almost misses that last part because he’s still stuck on the first part. There’ll be time for that later. The possibility of later squeezes at Charlie’s hard and it’s only after a few echoing seconds that he’s able to process the rest of your statement with a delayed, choking laugh.

“Is someone getting dramatic on me?”

“Not yet, but I will if - ”

“If I don’t get inside you?” Charlie completes the statement in the exact moment a hand drops between your thighs and presses against the soaked fabric covering your slit. You inhale sharply.

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t take you for someone who was pushy in bed,” Charlie says good naturedly, swiping his fingers up the line of you to end with a swirl over where he assumed – correctly – your clit was. You tilt your pelvis to maximize his pressure before surging up to kiss him long and hard.

“I’m actually not. Not really,” you say breathlessly when you finally pull away and drop back down onto the pillows. You stretch luxuriously, almost like a kitten in the sun under his piercing gaze, the movement of your hips bumping his hand to rub you even better. Running your hands up and down the big, strong arms that cage you in and support him, you kiss his shoulder. “I’ve been hoping you would be.”

Suddenly your wrists are being pinned down above your head by one of Charlie’s hands. He’s got your legs open wide with his body sinking against you, hard and heavy.

“Pushy? You want me to be pushy?”

You grin big and wide at him.

“Yeah. Take charge like I know you want – oh!” You’re cut off by the welcome sensation of stimulation as Charlie’s hand drops inside your panties to slide around in your waiting slick. Without the barrier of the fabric between you, the feeling of your velvety slipperiness is enough to make him loose a growl.

He’s not hesitating and he’s not teasing anymore. Charlie has been waiting for this moment. He’s been waiting to care. Been waiting to feel. And what’s heightening the experience even more is the look on your face, the way your lips are parted and the way you gaze up at him longingly, expectantly. Providing all the evidence he needs to prove that you want this too. He wants you and you want him – what a novel idea. There are no angles or obligations, but also no shame or secrecy.

“Well if you wanted me to take charge you should have said so earlier,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking a bit as he dips two fingers inside your soaking cunt, not bothering to start with one. You gasp at the sudden intrusion. The stretch is a lot, but it is everything. Charlie sees the enjoyment register on your face, discomfort melting away almost immediately, and he begins to pull them slowly in and out to massage your walls.

“Maybe – ahh – maybe I should have,” you reply.

“Should I have caused a scene in the arcade?”

“Yes – fuck!” During an inward thrust Charlie curls his fingers up this time, rubbing against that spot in your upper wall that previous guys barely even knew was there. Before you know it he’s adding a third finger and you’re beside yourself. Charlie is elated to see how easily your body responds to his ministrations, how free you are with your reactions. He leans to down to suck a mark over your collar bone while his thumb meets your clit in tandem with his other thrusting fingers.

“You knew what you were doing when you kept rubbing that pretty little ass back into me while I taught you pinball.” His words rumbling against the skin of your throat.

“You made it so easy.”

“And you made it so hard,” Charlie counters, humor very present in his voice. You gasp out a laugh and try to tug your wrists from his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. Just keeps you pinned down as he continues to finger fuck you nice and slow.

“So impatient. I should have known. You’ve been impatient all night, haven’t you?” You whine out affirmations and screw your eyes shut as the pressure starts to build to a crescendo. Charlie picks up speed, his voice growing deeper as he continues. “Wanted me to fuck you on the pinball machine in front of everyone, didn’t you?”

You gasp and toss your head back against the pillows at that, hips bucking involuntarily. Charlie’s nose glides along the perimeter of your jaw, breathing in the scent of you as you fall apart. He’s never felt so powerful as he does with the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his fingertips. Never had the inspiration or audience for such language, but as you shiver and respond to his words, a surge of pride fills him and all he wants to do is dangle you over the edge over and over again.

“Charlie…” His name is a whimper when it falls from your lips. You’re so close. He feels it. So he pushes his fingers deep inside you, curling up with the motion, just as he sweeps one, two, three final circles into the throbbing bud of your clit.

You crest and you break against the tide of your orgasm, plummeting down from such heights you didn’t know you could reach from simple fingering. But there’s nothing simple about Charlie, the man who had been broken and put back together, only to find you, the universe’s overly generous reward for his perseverance.

Charlie’s slightly (unfocused) eyes focus on your heaving chest as you finally descend from the orgasm, but you’re the one to break the spell. Impatient is the perfect way to describe you as you wrap your legs around his middle and hook your ankles to trap him against you. You lunge up to arrest his mouth in a kiss. It’s sloppy, but just enough to distract him so that you can pull your wrists from his grasp. Once free you push him gently to the side so that you’re both rolling over, mouths still attached. He comes to rest on his back with you straddling him.

Charlie blinks up at you, taking in the way your breasts bounce in their bra cups as you busy yourself with the task of removing his clothes. He hadn’t even realized he was still in them until you began unbuttoning and pulling and pushing. Your impatience is clear once again in the way you divest him of the frustratingly excessive material and he finally gets the memo that he should help you.

With his pants and underwear pulled off and discarded, as well as the button up shirt that you had come to love as his signature look, you rest your palms flat on the plane of his chest. You’re still in your lingerie, as he had requested, only it is now beautiful askew. Your breasts now strain out of the cups, having been jostled into almost spilling out with your change of position. Your panties are sopping wet and stretched from his vigorous fingering and the evidence of your orgasm.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

But you become even more beautiful when you wrap your hand around his aching cock, lifting up on your knees as you do so. Your fists slides up and down, up and down and he watches it, mesmerized, until you lean forward to catch his eye.

“What should I do, Charlie?”

Your face is soft and open. You’re asking for him to continue taking the lead. And Charlie realizes right then and there that he will never want to disappoint you. Snapping out his daze he lets his fingers dig into your flesh where his hands curl around your hips.

“Sit down on my cock, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The term of endearment is so sugary. He’s called his son that, but never a lover, casual or otherwise, and never during the first time. Your face, however, lights up and you do as you’re told, sinking down onto his long, hard length. The impact draws a moan from both of your throats followed by gasped phrases spoken over one another.

“You’re so big!”

“You’re so tight!”

You both laugh at the overlap but laughter turns to groans as you roll your hips experimentally. After a few moments of this, it appears that Charlie becomes the impatient one finally.

“Ride me,” he spits through gritted teeth. Your nails imprint half moons in his skin as you clench at his tone, not quite hearing the words. Charlie sucks air through his teeth at the squeeze.

“What?”

“Ride me. I need you to fucking ride me.” You can tell that he’s trying to remain cool and collected, but his brow is furrowed and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.

So you do as he says. You lift up and drop down, feeling the length of his cock slide through your sheath with a speed that you set, establishing a rhythm that has your toes curling. You let out a particularly shameless moan and Charlie opens his eyes. They widen immediately upon seeing that you’re clutching and squeezing at your own breast with one hand while grabbing onto his hip to stabilize you with the other. The sight alone of your face, screwed up in pleasure, flips a switch in Charlie and suddenly he is thrusting up into you without mercy.

“Charlie!” you cry out, both from surprise at the increased jostling and from how tremendously good it feels.

“I should have fucked you in the arcade. I would have if I had known how good you feel.”

“I – oh fuckfuck – knew,” you barely get out. Charlie hoists you back so that he’s sitting up with his back against the headrest now. The position gives him more leverage and power so he can lift you up and down his cock, bouncing you now with a rhythm that vibrates through your entire being.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Charlie asks, engulfing one of your breasts in his huge hand. The added sensation is perfect, but not quite enough. You wonder if you can coax more.

“I knew you would feel good.” You reach down to the base of his cock, encircling it as much as possible with it’s girth, and fisting upward just as he pulls you up, therefore maximizing the squeeze on his length. Charlie inhales abruptly and drops you back down.

“Little Miss Know-it-all, are you?” His voice is harsh and it sends a thrill throughout your body. Before you can respond, you’re pushed and yanked around, losing your grip with the motion.

“What - ?” Charlie’s hand on your throat quiets you. Not because he’s truly squeezing, but because the solid warmth of his hand causes you to squeak your way to silence. His adjustments now find you pulled up to the edge of the bed, legs spread and pushed back, with Charlie standing between them. Bent over, he grounds himself with one hand on your throat and one on your hip, positioning his tip back at the entrance to your weeping cunt. You expect him to slam his hips forward, to impale you with his cock, but he pauses with the swollen head just inside your folds.

“This okay?”

This power and control, the way he is manipulating your body for your pleasure and his own – he loves it. It’s so new and yet something he now wonders how he ever did without. But he also feels the need to check in and make sure that you’re still with him. The nod you give, the sparkle in your eye, and the quirk of your lips is all it takes to convince him and then he is plowing forward, slamming himself back in again and again. You let out a full throated moan and Charlie revels in the way your eyes roll all the way back.

He wonders what else will make you do that. What else will make your eyes roll back and your toes curl and your teeth sink into your bottom lip? He wonders, as his hand presses softly into the contours of your throat, what it would feel like to squeeze a little harder, and if the pressure would make you even more desperate for him. He wonders if you like a little pain with your pleasure, as he has long suspected he might enjoy, though has never truly had the chance to confirm.

But there will be time for that.

So now, he does his best to focus in on the sounds you release. Sounds of delight and surprise and sensual thrill. He coaxes you to your second climax and you don’t fight it. You don’t demure or wait for him or hesitate. Instead you unapologetically allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure he’s built for you, seizing and quaking beneath him without shame.

The sight and feeling are so beautiful he can’t help but follow soon after, pulling out and allowing releasing all over the bra and panties you had so generously left on for him. The sight of his seed landing on the delicate lace, as you lay beneath him fucked out and smiling, causes another tremor to rock through him, and he finds that he’s still cumming long after he usually would have finished.

Charlie finds himself in a daze in the immediate aftermath of his release. He looks around for something to clean you with, and when you notice you point out a box of tissues on the desk. After he’s done his best to wipe you up, you give him a kiss on the cheek. The mundane intimacy of the act makes him blush all the way to the hidden tips of his ears. It is absurd because you had just had sex, however the press of your lips to his skin seemed to seal the deal. This was not transactional. It was something more, Charlie can’t help but think to himself as you get up from the bed and skip to the bathroom.

In your absence Charlie again registers the smallness of your room. How large – out of place, maybe – he is amongst your delicate things. He pulls on his underwear and sits back down on the mattress, unsure.

Unsure about your expectations. Unsure about whether or not you’d want him to leave. Or stay.

Before he can make a decision in either direction you are bounding back into the room, a smile on your face. Your face is freshly washed and you’re in a faded, oversized tank top, having divested yourself of your abused lingerie. Charlie swallows at the sight of your breasts, free and outlined beneath the soft fabric. He adjusts his hands in his lap. No need to let you see him getting worked up again so soon like some horny teenager. You don’t seem to notice, instead slipping easily into bed beside him, shimmying under the covers and patting the space beside you so that he does the same.

So stay he will.

Once you’re both comfortable and situated, you slide into his arms, drawing them around your body without a question or seemingly a second though. Much like the way you’d slid into his life, Charlie thinks ruefully, nuzzling his face into the top of your head as you tuck in beneath his chin.

“Charlie?”

“Hm?”

“I know you always go to that diner on 15th for breakfast,” you begin, and Charlie’s heart spasms. Both at the thought of breakfast with you and the fact that you so casually know details about him. About his likes and his habits. He pulls you in a little tighter and nods his head.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if I show you a new place in the morning? I think you’ll really like it.”

And Charlie laughs. Because of course you’d want to push him out of his comfort zone. It’s what you do – push him to try new things. Push him to do things he wouldn’t usually consider. Push him to be the man he’d been working so hard for the past year to be.

“Yes, but I’m not changing the way I order my eggs,” he grumbles with humor, kissing the crown of your head. “Not yet.”

~*~

The next morning you order first, and you’ve never had breakfast with Charlie before, so when he asks for the same dish, you can’t possibly know that this is his first time ordering eggs Florentine.

As you both laugh and eat and sip coffee in the outdoor seating area of the quaint café you’d picked, fingers intertwined between you on the wrought iron table, you also can’t know that this is the happiest Charlie has felt in ages.

But he makes it his mission, right there and then, to do everything in his power to make you feel the same.

~*~

Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @celestiasin @tlcwrites @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @edencherries @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @soggywhore @transparentmeoo @leia-suns @alpha-lobito

#paper-n-ashes #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #Charlie Barber/reader #Charlie Barber/you #Charlie Barber fanfiction #Charlie Barber smut #marriage story fanfiction #Marriage Story smut #writing #smut #Roanniom #tw: unprotected sex #tw: choking

266 notes · View notes

garbagevanfleet · 4 years ago

Text

Brightest Blue (series)

PART ONE

Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings: None yet. Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: Here we are everyone. This fic has been a long time in the making, but I’m pretty dang happy with it so far! I made Josh extra lovable and squishy for you all. I hope you enjoy! This fic is edited by the amazing and gorgeous, @lantern-inthenight. And big thanks as always to @myownparadise96. I literally could not have found the motivation to do this fic without you.

MASTERPOST

taglist: @myownparadise96 @n1-party-anthem @valleyd0ll @bigblack-catattack @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @oblvions @hansonobsessed @satingrass-maidensfair

The scenery in Michigan was vastly different than back home. You were used to and comfortable with the nearly unforgiving heat of the American South West, but the farther away you got from home, the more foreign everything seemed. The scrubland slowly started being replaced by emerald green grass and dense forests of towering pines. Once you hit Illinois, little farmsteads were scattered along every road you took, boasting fields thick with corn and beans.

It was a bit over a full day’s worth of driving. You had originally thought you could just drive right through - after all, you were young and you had plenty of caffeine at the ready. In reality, you wound up digesting the trip over two days.

You were a fortunate enough person that you had a reliable car, which made up for the fact that it wasn’t very pretty to look at. It didn’t exactly sip gas, but that had never even been a concern before this - it wasn’t very often that you left home, let alone make a trip across the country. But you were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you started seeing the exit signs for Ann Arbor.

Your parents had been a bit judgemental about you picking a school so far away - they were even worse homebodies than you, and they knew that you being across the country meant they wouldn’t be seeing you until the school year was over - but there was no way you could turn down an opportunity like this one. You had worked your ass off to qualify for a scholarship, knowing full well that there was no way you could afford higher education otherwise. MU hadn’t been your very first choice but with one of the better programs in the country for your desired field, you just couldn’t turn it down.

You had to pull over into a McDonald’s parking lot to pull up the address you were looking for and program it into your phone’s GPS before continuing further into the city. Your mother had been particularly wary about your living situation. See, she was a woman that adamantly liked to have a plan and then stick to it - she didn’t see any value in just letting things happen. “Go with the flow” wasn’t in her vocabulary, but you’d always romanticised the idea. Which was why, when you pulled up to the apartment that you were going to be living in for the next year, it was the first time you’d ever seen it.

You had found the listing on the Facebook marketplace for the area, looked at a couple of pictures, and signed the lease agreement online - all without knowing what you were really in for. You’d been informed that you’d have a roommate when you’d contacted the landlord, but she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the person other than that. All she really said was “no pets, no smoking, and one month’s rent for the security deposit. You had told yourself that it didn’t really matter what the situation was as long as the other person wasn’t outwardly malicious and the place wasn’t infested with pests or anything, even though you knew it mattered a little.

An audible sigh of relief left your lips when you pulled into the apartment parking lot and found that your new home looked well kept. The building had old, slide-up windows, but the brick siding was clean, and the shrubs that lined the property were trimmed and neat. You and your back seat stuffed to max capacity with house plants had made it - and with only a bit of sleep deprivation and caffeine jitters for damages.

After you got out of the car, you grabbed your very favorite potted cactus and found your way into the building, meandering down the dim hall until you came upon the door marked 6. You hadn’t been given a key yet, so you knocked with your free hand and waited until you heard someone shuffling around inside.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous - obviously, you were - but more than anything you were excited. Anxious, maybe? That seemed like the right word.

The door opened to reveal a boy, around your age, hair a mess of curls on the top and shorn tighter to the sides of his head. You were immediately taken aback by the depth in his eyes, chocolatey and warm.

“What’s up?” he asked casually, leaning against the door frame, a pair of old-school headphones dangling from his hand.

You frowned at him slightly, suddenly terrified you’d gotten the wrong apartment number. You weren’t sure how you’d live with that embarrassment, especially if you had to live next door to him - you’d just be that stupid girl that didn’t even know where she lived. “Oh, I think I’m your new roommate? This is number six, right?” You peered around the other side of the open door, just to confirm.

A beaming grin spread over his soft face, showing you his blindingly white teeth and the deepest pair of dimples you’d ever seen. “Oh, cool, yeah. Come on in.”

He stepped aside, giving a dramatically flourished bow as a gesture for you to enter. You obliged, and even though this was your new house too, you paused and waited as he shut the door behind you.

“Sorry, I was expecting you yesterday, so.” He trailed off with a sheepish smile and then extended his free hand to you. “Anyway, I’m Josh.”

You shifted your cactus to one arm so you could shake his hand. “Y/N. Yeah, sorry, it took me longer than I expected to get here. Which is why my stuff apparently showed up before I did.”

You eyed around the apartment, spotting boxes of your things in piles. The original plan your parents had come up with was to have you rent a U-Haul, but since you’d never driven anything bigger than your Camry, you had quickly shot that idea down. After some expert negotiating, they had agreed to hire a moving company. You hadn’t had the balls to ask what a service like that had set them back - decided instead that it was better if you didn’t know.

“Oh yeah,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It all showed up yesterday at like noon. One of the boxes was open a little, and I saw records so I looked through them to make sure you weren’t some kind of freak.”

It was more of a statement than a warning, and the smile he gave you showed not even a shred of an apology so you just smiled back. “Find anything you like?”

He turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen - connected to the living room by a huge square archway. “Your music taste is,” He paused, opening a cupboard and pulling down two mismatched glasses. “Eclectic.”

You laughed at him, bending to gently set your plant down on a side table. “That’s true.”

“But I found plenty I could listen to, so I guess you’re okay. You want some juice?” he asked as he held up a paper carton of store brand orange juice

“That would be lovely,” you agreed, standing stick straight the way you did when in the presence of new company. “My dad used to take me to a lot of thrift stores and we’d go home with a minimum of two records per trip.”

“I love thrifting,” he said simply, giving you an alarmingly serious look. “There are three here, I think. Every once in a while you can find something really worth keeping. I have kind of a ‘catch and release’ policy where if I don’t instantly know what I’m going to do with an item, I leave it there, but I think - like - a third of my wardrobe is from thrift stores.”

You listened, feeling oddly entranced by the way he was handing you thoughts as they came to him. There was something truly honest about it - a quality people back home didn’t seem to have. It was charming.

He brought your glass of juice to you and then motioned to the rest of the apartment. “You want the grand tour of Casa De Joshua-” He gave you a pointed look and a cheesy grin. “And Y/N?”

You breathed a laugh at him, nodding as you sipped. “Please.”

“Okay, try not to get lost - this is obviously the living room. I do most of my living here as the name would suggest. I found this couch on the side of the road - actually almost all of my furniture is adopted.” As he explained, he was gesturing to items like Vanna White.

The couch looked. Well-loved. You could tell just at a glance that it was probably past it’s prime when Josh had stumbled upon it, but it did look comfortable, and it wasn’t like you had a couch to offer, so you were happy with it.

“I have this TV but it’s really only for movies and stuff because I’m twenty-two and I’d rather die than pay for cable. But there are literally hundreds of DVDs in the TV stand that you are welcome to peruse at your leisure,” he informed, his hands gesturing almost arbitrarily as he talked.

You followed as he moved on through the archway. “This is the kitchen. All of the food lives here. There’s lots of stuff, but I try to just make two bigger meals per day. I don’t have a real ice tray so I’ve been using a chocolate mold- Well anyway, our ice will be in the shape of wiener dogs.”

You were shocked at the laugh that escaped you, genuine and uncontrolled. He grinned over at you, clearly also surprised - but pleased with himself for getting the reaction he was aiming for.

“I think I can live with that.”

“Good,” he agreed simply, giving you a new kind of smile - something sweeter. After a beat, he motioned down the hall with his eyes, letting you lead. “The bathroom is this way. The water takes like three or four minutes to get hot. I realized that I have a lot of products for some reason, but I condensed them all into this one area in the corner just in case my new roommate was a girl, and you are so that’s great. I’ll probably get a shelf.”

There was a proud quality to his voice like he felt gentlemanly for letting you have all the space you needed. For some reason, that made you feel warm and fuzzy.

“And what if your new roommate had been a boy?” you inquired with a smirk.

He put a finger on his chin, taking on a contemplative look for you. “Hmm. Then I guess I slowly would have moved my stuff back to the cabinet - probably just one thing per day so he wouldn’t notice. Unless he had a lot of makeup or something, then I’d just let him have it.”

He grinned as you teasingly shook your head.

“This way is the sleeping quarters. My room is there on the right and yours to the left.”

You stepped into your new room and let a sigh of relief. Two huge windows took up a lot of the far wall, framed underneath by large sills. The space was bright and roomier than you’d pictured. Your bed was set up in the very middle of the room, but you already knew exactly where you wanted it to go. For some reason, you had been concerned that you wouldn’t like the space, but it was kind of perfect.

“This is great,” you breathed, turning to him and giving him a sly grin. “Wanna give me a hand moving my furniture around?”

He pretended to consider for a moment until you spoke again.

“My mom sent money for pizza while I get stuff unpacked,” you said coyly. “If you needed any convincing.”

He laughed, showing you his teeth. “You drive a hard bargain. Okay, I’ll help as long as I get to look through your stuff while we move it.”

You gave him a questioning look, earning a one-shouldered shrug in return. He looked benign enough standing there, propped against the door frame with a goofy upturn to his lips, so you relented.

“Deal,” you agreed.

You were positive you would not have been able to move stuff without his help. For being a slender boy, he seemed to easily be able to get things where they needed to be. He dutifully helped you shove your furniture into place - your bed against the window wall, your desk and vanity on the wall with your closet door. Then, bless his little heart, he helped you move it all again when you decided you didn’t like the arrangement (but not without some light griping).

One by one, you brought in your boxes from the living room and you allowed him to poke through them, perched on your bed. He flipped through your books, thumbing pages of ones that piqued his interest - you could only imagine that he was already planning on borrowing some of them. He reacted similarly to your framed photos, as he unwrapped them from their packing paper.

When you got your record player set up, he put on a vinyl and started to hang your art prints on the wall where you instructed him to. The look of concentration on his face was rather endearing as he held a few nails between his teeth and hammered them into the wall, one by one. There was a time or two you were convinced that he was going to mutilate his thumb, but he didn’t, and when the last picture was hung, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You called in a pizza, adorned with his requested toppings as you hung your clothes into your closet, your phone tucked against your ear and shoulder for maximum efficiency.

Plants collected on your bed until there was no more room for them - after that, he started setting them on the floor as he brought them in from your car. He didn’t seem to be judging the sheer amount of them, even though he had every right to.

“It’s going to look like a jungle in here,” he stated finally as he took a bite out of a slice of pizza that he was holding like a taco, his eyes raking over all of the foliage scattered around your room. Rather than sounding like he was teasing, his tone seemed excited.

You grinned at him, starting to arrange them on the window sill and your bookshelf that had only ever served you as a plant shelf since you’d bought it. “Plants are my passion. Botany major,” you explained as you fluffed up your Monstera’s huge leaves.

“Ooh.” He raised his eyebrows at you, pulling one of his legs up underneath him on your bed - now fitted with sheets. “I think that’s going to be nice. Give it some life in here.”

You grabbed another slice from the pizza box on your nightstand and tried to think of the right tone of voice to use to ask the next question. “How long have you lived here by yourself?”

He hummed, eyes flicking around distantly as he thought. “Well, I’ve lived here just over a year, and my first roommate dropped out and moved back home about...six months ago?”

“Have you been lonely? You seem like a social guy.” You gave him an empathetic look but he just shrugged at you. You hadn’t known him long enough to know for sure, but you suspected he was more affected than he was letting on.

“I mean, a little lonely. But I got used to it for the most part.” He paused for a good couple of seconds before a smile spread across his lips. “And Penny’s kept me company.”

“Oh, does your girlfriend stay here too?” you prompted, trying to remember if you’d seen any feminine looking items lying around that weren’t yours.

“What? No,” he said under a chuckle and stood, gesturing for you to follow him across the hall.

The second you walked through the doorway, you were met with the smell of incense sticks and linen. His room was dimmer than yours and kind of cramped with all of his mismatching furniture, but he had a huge bed - you thought it could easily fit three people in it. There were some clothes strewn about around a laundry hamper by the door and you tried to not be jealous that his closet seemed to be about twice the size of yours.

He crossed the room to crouch in front of a coffee table that he seemed to be using as a catch-all. The varnish was worn off the top of it in rings because sitting on the coffee table was a globe of water and a calico colored goldfish swimming around aimlessly inside of it.

“Ah, so this is Penny,” you giggled as you bent over next to him. When the fish spotted him, it rose to the surface of the water, opening its mouth in demand for food.

He grinned down at it. “Light of my life. We’re not allowed to have pets but I figured that a fish didn’t count.”

You hummed, admittedly a bit charmed by the whole situation. “But don’t goldfish require a lot of space?”

The smile fell from his face, adopting a level of concern you hadn’t yet seen from him as he peered over at you. “Do they?”

Immediately, you felt guilty for putting that look on his features. Your brain kick-started - trying to think of a way to make it right again. “I think so? Maybe we can find her a small tank? Put a few little plants in there for her?”

Josh nodded at you, stroking his fingers over the glass with a frown. “I’m a bad dad.”

“No, no!” you assured, putting your hand on his head but then removing it instantly when you realized that you didn’t really know him, he’d just already made you feel like you did. Either way, you figured it would be inappropriate to touch him. “You’re great. She looks really happy.”

“She’s great at begging for food, so don’t get tricked,” Josh instructed after a moment, seemingly able to put his concerns aside to jest you.

You nodded in agreement. “I’ll be ever vigilant,” you promised, making him smile again.

He stood back up, so you did as well.

“Well, I’ll give you some time to get comfortable in your room,” Josh said, sitting back on his bed. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I promise I will,” you assured, tapping your hand on the doorframe on your way out.

By the time the sun was set, your room was shockingly well put together. The emotional rollercoaster that was the album Rumors helped you keep on task, losing yourself in the music so it didn’t feel like work at all. You hadn’t been expecting it to come along so quickly, but you guessed that was because you hadn’t anticipated such a friendly roommate. The nesting had always been your favorite part, so you took your time to enjoy placing out all your knick-knacks and photos.

You took a break to shower when you decided you were done for the day, reveling in the feeling of the water after such a long time in your car - He was absolutely right about how long it took to warm up from ice cold. When you got out and changed into your pajamas, Josh was sitting in the living room with a laptop across his legs.

“You wanna chill?” he asked when he heard you padding down the hall, shutting the lid of it and setting it on a side table. “Or if you’re too tired, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. I’d love to talk.” You sat next to him, leaving a comfortable amount of room between you as you pulled your knees up to your chin. “Tell me more about yourself,” you requested, tugging a blanket from a beat-up wicker basket on the floor and wrapping it around your body.

“Hmm, okay,” he started. You wondered how long it had been since he had to introduce himself to someone new. “I’m from a tiny little town here in Michigan. I’m the oldest of four - two brothers and a sister. My brother, Jake, also attends MU and lives just off campus.”

You frowned at him. “Wait, why wouldn’t he live with you?” you asked through a disbelieving laugh.

“He lived with me long enough,” Josh explained in a humored tone. “There are only so many people where I’m from and well - we wanted to meet new people, you know?”

“I guess I should be grateful for that.”

“Yeah, probably,” he teased and then paused to think. “I’m in performing arts - I’m actually putting on a production around Christmas with some elementary school kids.”

You suppressed the aww that was threatening to pass your lips. “You like kids?”

He beamed you a smile, shaking his head. “Love them. I want to have like ten of them someday.”

The thought of him surrounded by kids made you soften. You were genuinely shocked about how easy he was to talk to - how easy he was to like. You had never thought in a million years you’d get along with your roommate so well, let alone the first day meeting them.

“I hope you get to,” you said as genuinely as you could muster, prompting him to give you a grateful smile.

A yawn escaped you before you could hide it, and you quickly breathed an apology, but he just waved you off.

“You must be exhausted from that drive,” he said, his voice soft. “You should get some sleep.”

You nodded in agreement and gave him a thankful smile. “Is it okay if I sleep out here?”

The look on his face was quizzical, forcing a laugh from you. “Why would you do that?”

“I have this tradition where whenever I’m in a new place, I always sleep in the living room on the first night. It’s good luck.”

“Whatever you say.” His lips pulled back into an unconvinced smirk. “Well, yeah, you live here now too, so you can sleep wherever you’d like.”

He disappeared into his room for only a moment before popping his head back out, fingers wrapped around the door frame.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

You tried not to look too taken aback by the question, but you could feel your cheeks flushing warm. You raked your eyes along the couch, entirely positive that there wasn’t enough space for the two of you to lay out on it together fully - at least, not without being pressed flush against one another. However, his face looked innocent and soft - not a single tint of mischief colored across his features.

“Yeah, that-. I guess that’s okay,” you agreed sheepishly with a shrug. “But I’m not sure we’ll both fit if I’m being honest.”

He frowned questioningly at you, his brows lacing together until he realized what you thought he meant. His face instantly turned a light shade of pink to match yours. “No, no,” he quickly assured in between a breathy laugh. “I’m not going to sleep with you - I’ll take the recliner.”

“Oh, right.” You gave a nervous laugh of your own, cursing yourself out in your head for being so dull.

You were still well embarrassed as you made a nest of blankets on the couch and he brought out a pillow for you when you realized yours were still tucked deep in your bag of bedding. When each of you was situated on your respective pieces of furniture, he flicked the light off with a comfortable sigh.

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice taking on a tone that was far too smug for your liking. “You were awfully quick to agree to sleep next to me. You don’t have a crush on me, do you?”

You knew he was teasing, but your heart rate still managed to pick up under the pressure. You had never been particularly good with awkward social situations; you rolled your eyes in the dark, thankful he couldn’t see how red you were. “No, Josh. I do not have a crush on you.”

“Okay,” he said through a melodic laugh, and you got the feeling that he’d gotten the reaction he was aiming for from you. “Should we be best friends though?”

You snorted a laugh of your own, wanting to be annoyed at how likable he was, but falling short. “You are the most peculiar person I’ve ever met, I think.” You curled up, clutching your blanket tight to your body. “But yes. We can be friends.”

“Okay, cool - I’ll order matching t-shirts for us.” You could hear the pleased grin he was wearing, making you feel warm and cozy. You pulled the worn blanket up to your chin.

“See to it that you do.”

Author’s Note: okay, I hope you guys like it! please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or removed from it. I’m using the same taglist from my Jake!fic, so no hard feelings if you don’t want to be tagged!

#josh fic #josh kiszka fic #josh x reader #joshxreader #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #brightest blue fic

403 notes · View notes