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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Wicked Game

pairing: frat!Tom Holland x Reader

chapter one: somebody like you

series masterlist

“Strippers here!” Harry Holland, co chair of the Delta Nu fraternity house shouted over his shoulder when he opened the door. Behind him, a party was in full swing, making your throat go dry.

“Hilarious. Where’s Harrison?” Your roommate, Peyton, asked as she linked her arm through hers.

“Last I saw him he was carrying kegs to the kitchen.” Harry shrugged.

“Thanks. Move.” Peyton slipped her hand into yours and pushed past Harry. You held on tightly to her hand as she pulled you through the house. Frat parties at your college were known to be over the top, especially at Delta Nu. You normally wouldn’t be caught dead at a party, but Peyton practically dragged you away from your desk and forced you to come.

“There he is.” She spotted Harrison. “Come on.”

“Wow. Nice of you to finally show up.” Harrison said as you and Peyton walked up to him.

“Yeah well it took me a minute to get this one out of the dorm.” Peyton said without ever dropping your hand.

“Who’s this?“ Harrison nodded towards you.

“Are you kidding?” Peyton asked him.

“Dude, we’ve met like 6 times.” You said.

“We have?” Harrison looked you up and down as he scratched his head.

“This is Y/n. My roommate.” Peyton stated like it was obvious. “I swear, you don’t listen to a word I say.”

“I’m the one you’re always kicking out so you two can do that whatever is it that you do.” You reminded him.

“Ohhhh. I do know you.” Harrison remembered. “Sorry, I’ve just never seen you not hunched over a desk.”

Wow. Just how every girl wants to be described. Hunched.” You smiled tightly and gave Peyton a look.

“This is a woman in STEM.” Peyton said as she put her hands on your shoulders. “She does not hunch. She slouches.”

“She also doesn’t want to be here.” You chimed in. “Can I please go?”

“Come on. Live a little. We don’t let just anybody into this party.” Harrison said as he handed you and Peyton a red solo cup.

“I can see that. Lot of white guys in here.” You noted as you looked around.

“That’s not true.” Harrison scoffed and looked around. Harrison realized you were right and his smile fell.

“Oh shit. Sam! Get over here. Its happening again!” He called and ran off to find Sam.

“Can I go now? You found Harrison. I don’t need to be here.” You said to Peyton once you were alone again.

“Why? So you can go back to the room and study? It’s Friday night. You have been studying your ass off all week. You should stay and have some fun.” Peyton smiled encouragingly as she played with the ends of your hair.

“I have a calculus midterm on Monday and a lab due tomorrow night.” You whined. “I can’t be wasting time here. Plus, I can see like 12 health code violations in this room alone.”

“I know. We can’t have fairy lights because it’s a “safety hazard” but frat houses can have literal weapons hanging on the walls?” She rolled her eyes and nodded towards the swords mounted on the wall beside you.

“I’m back. Did you miss me?” Harrison asked as he slung an arm around Peyton.

“I did.” Peyton smiled at him.

“I didn’t.” You mumbled.

“You’re in luck Y/n. I brought a friend with me.” Harrison told you as he pushed a boy forward. The boy had a backwards cap on and smirk on your face, the kind that immediately made you roll your eyes.

“Hey. I’m Tom.” He nodded at you as he unapologetically checked you out.

“And I’m gonna head out. Thanks for the drinks.” You smiled tightly and handed your cup back to Harrison. As you were walking towards the door, you felt your phone buzz. You pulled it out and found a text from Peyton.

“Please don’t go! I’m not gonna stay long and I really don’t want to walk back to our dorm alone :((((((“ She had sent you. You let out a sigh and stopped walking. You didn’t want to stay at the party, but you couldn’t let her walk home alone.

“I’ll be downstairs. don’t get pregnant!!!!” You texted.

“I won’t!!!!!” She sent back. A few seconds later, she texted you again.

“I might!!!!” It read, making you laugh. You walked back into the house and found a somewhat quiet hallway. You pushed your way past a few people making out and nestled into a corner. You pulled your dress down to make it longer, which just made it lower up top. Party clothes made you deeply uncomfortable so you covered yourself with your arms and pulled out your phone.

“Could you look anymore miserable?” Tom asked as he leaned his arm up on the wall beside you.

“Don’t bother.” You said without looking up from your phone.

“Don’t bother with what?” Tom played dumb as he looked you up and down.

“With me. It’s not gonna happen.”

“What’s not gonna happen?” He continued to play dumb as he leaned in a little closer. You gave him a look before stepping away from him.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you’re as dumb as you look. I mean just because our roommates are off somewhere getting hepatitis c, it doesn’t mean you and I are gonna hook up.” You said as you went back to your phone.

“Who said I wanted to hook up with you?” Tom shrugged. “You’re kinda mean and kinda hurt my feelings just now.”

“Isn’t that how this thing works?” You asked him. “She brings a friend, me, to keep his friend, you, busy while they sneak off to do god knows what in this hell house?”

“For your information, love, this is a highly respected establishment.” Tom stated. “You are standing in the universities longest running and most awarded fraternity. It is not a hell house.”

As soon as Tom finished his sentence, a light fell down from the ceiling. A group of girls ran by you, the one in the middle puking on the ground. A boy started sliding down the banister and fell off halfway, landing on the ground with a hard thud.

“That almost never happens.” He told you, making you laugh. You decided to let your guard down just a little and look up at him.

“Okay. Sorry I was so rude. I just assumed you were an asshole.” You admitted.

“Aw. You did? You thought that about little old me?” He smiled and held his hand over his heart. You laughed a little as another guy in a frat shirt came up to the two of you.

“Tom we need more kegs out-“

Tom shoved him away by his face before leaning on the wall beside you.

“So do you have a name?” He smiled. “Or should I just call you rude goth girl crashing my party.”

“I’m Y/n. And I’m not goth.”

“I’m sorry. I just assumed you were goth.” Tom held you his hands in defense.

“Why?”

“Because you’re dressed like a witch.” He shrugged, making you let out a shocked laugh.

“Wearing a black dress does not automatically mean I’m dressed like a witch.” You insisted.

“In your opinion.” He said out of the corner of his mouth. His tone was playful, so you smiled a little.

“What was your name again?” You asked him.

“Tom. But my frat brothers call me T-bag.”

“Well since I’m not one of your frat brothers, I’m gonna stick with Tom. Do I want to know why they call you that?”

“No. You do not.” He smiled and shot you a wink.

“I figured.”

“Do you really think I look dumb, by the way? Because I thought turning my hat backwards would show how innovative and creative I am.” He said as he gestured to his hat.

“I don’t know.” You clicked your tongue. “Let me see the logo.“

“No logo. It’s just gray.” He said as he took the hat off to show you.

“Just gray?” You laughed. “Then why wear it?”

“So I can give it to pretty girls to mark my territory.” He smiled as he put the hat on your head.

“Mark your territory? Wow. That’ll do it. That will do it.” You blew out a breath and started to walk away.

“I didn’t mean it like that, love. No.” Tom laughed as he pulled you back towards him by the hand.

“You were doing so well too.” You told him. “Like shocking well. Then you said that.”

“I meant so that my brothers don’t flirt with the girl I’m respectfully trying to court.” Tom explained himself.

“Ohhh. You’re trying to court me?” You played along. “I thought you were trying to fuck. Damn. I have to go.”

“Don’t go, pretty girl.” He whined. “I haven’t even used all my best tricks yet.”

“I can tell. That hat thing was super cringy.”

“You’re funny. For a witch, I mean.” He said, making you look down at your phone as you laughed.

“What are you doing anyway?” Tom asked as he looked over your shoulder to see what you were doing on your phone.

“Are you serious? You’re just playing with your settings?” He laughed at you when he saw what you were doing.

“Shut up.” You laughed in embarrassment. “I don’t like parties.”

“Oh. Is it because you’re quirky and different and not like other girls?”

“Dude. Did you even look at my shoes?”

“Oh! Sneakers and a dress. How did I miss that?” Tom asked as he looked down at your choice of footwear. Peyton forced you into one of her dresses, but she could not force you into heels.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “You must’ve been too busy chugging beer through your butt or whatever it is you frat boys do.”

“You got it.” Tom nodded. “We chug beer through our butts. Like literally all the time.”

You laughed at him again and this time, put your phone away to give him your full attention. Tom noticed the way your body language went from tense to relaxed, so he felt like he was doing was working.

“So let me see if I can get this.” He began. “Standing off by herself at a a party, was dragged here by her more outgoing roomate, and showed up in converse and a dress that she was probably forced into wearing. Is it you? Are you the manic pixie dream girl who is about to change the directory of my life?”

“I don’t know. I’m not really looking to make any friends. I hate this town. I hate everyone in it. Each person is faker than the next. Nobody cares about art anymore. It’s like they’re all just zombies waiting to do what the man tells them next.” You played along as you mashed together every cliche thing you’d ever heard a female character say.

“Wow.” Tom smiled in amazement. “That was so accurate. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“I watch a lot of movies.” You smiled shyly at his compliment.

“I could tell. You missed the part where her parents want her to be their perfect little princess, though.”

“But that’s not her.” You added to his description.

“Nope.” He shook his head. “She’s different. She listens to rock music and grunge bands. Shes and outcast who just wants to see the world.”

“She wants to experience new things and new people.” You continued.

“But she’s never going to do that. Because her main purpose is to propel the boy in the right direction.”

“Her ambitions are just decorations.” You shrugged.

“But-“ Tom began and pointed his finger at you to finish his sentence.

“She’s the coolest girl you’ve ever met.” You said in unison. You both laughed as you mumbled “jinx” and shyly looked down at the ground. He was the last person you’d ever expect to be talking to you at this party. Even more surprising was the fact that he was the funniest guy you’d ever spoken to on campus.

“To be honest with you, I’m kinda surprised you knew what a manic pixie dream girl was.” You told him.

“I watch movies when I’m not not drinking alcohol through my butt.” He shrugged.

“Like rom coms?”

“Hell yeah.” He scoffed. “I love rom coms. Especially anything with Katherine Heigl or Sandra Bullock.”

“I love them too.” You laughed shyly. “Especially Sandra. I’ve seen The Proposal like a thousand times.”

“My personal favorite is Miss Congeniality. But The Proposal is a close second. I’m a big Ryan Reynolds guy.”

“I didn’t peg you for a rom com guy.“ You said as you leaned against the wall.

“Who said anything about pegging?” Tom scoffed. “At least buy me dinner first.”

You laughed at his joke, no matter how dumb it was, as you rolled your eyes to the ceiling. You laughing made him laugh and he was beginning to grow awfully fond of your smile.

“Okay.” You decided once your laughter died down.

“Okay what?”

“I like talking to you. Let me buy you dinner.” You shrugged.

“No. I’m not doing that.” Tom shook his head, making your smile fall.

“A gentleman always pays on the first date.” He continued. “Plus, my fraternity gets unlimited meal swipes.”

“That’s so elitist.” You bit your bottom lip as he propped his arm up on the wall beside you.

“I know.” He smiled as he started to lean in. Just as you were leaning in, Peyton returned to your side.

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over. I won’t torture you anymore. We can go.” She told you, making your smile fall a little.

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks.” You nodded and gave Tom an apologetic look.

“Oh. Hi Tom.” Peyton smirked when she realized who you were talking to.

“Hi Peyton.” Tom waved. “How is he?”

“Knocked out right after as usual.” Peyton sighed. “Are you ready to go?“

“Actually, I think I’m gonna stay.” You said as you leaned back against the wall and nodded towards Tom. Peyton bit back a smile and you gave her a look that told her to chill out.

“Okay. I’ll stick around too then. But you’re still texting me every hour with updates.” She told you as she cupped your face in her hands.

“I know the rules.” You rolled your eyes. Peyton pulled you into a hug so she would whisper in your ear.

“Don’t let him take you to a secondary location. More importantly, have fun. And don’t get pregnant.” She whispered, but Tom heard and snorted.

“Please? Just this once?“ You sarcastically begged her.

“I’d make a hell of a dad.” Tom said as he slung an arm around you.

“All right.” Peyton smiled. “Have fun you two.”

“We will.” You rolled your eyes again but appreciated her protection over you.

“I’ll take care of her.” Tom said. “I promise.”

Peyton gave you one last look before leaving you with Tom. You watched her as she disappeared back into the party and felt your heart speed up a little bit. You’d never been in this situation before and you were staring to worry that you were in over your head.

“So where were we?” Tom asked as he leaned his arm against the wall.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged with a coy smile.

“Oh, shoot. I can’t remember either.” Tom tapped his chin. “I think we were talking about - op, nope. We were about to kiss. That was definitely it.”

“Hm. I don’t think so. I’m remembering it differently.”

“I’m pretty sure we were about to kiss. Our faces were here, remember?” Tom smiled as he leaned in closer to you. You gasped a little as your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips.

“Well now I’m starting to remember.” You replied, trying to sound more confident then you felt.

“Let me jog your memory then.” Tom whispered in your ear before leaning in the rest of the way. He pressed you up against the wall as he kissed you and suddenly, the party went quiet. You’d never kissed a stranger before so you didn’t know where to put your hands, but Tom knew exactly where to put his. He kept one on your hip and the other on your face as he kissed you. Your could taste the beer on his tongue and smiled a little into the kiss. You slowly gained more confidence and tangled your fingers in his hair, accidentally knocking his hat off.

“Do you want to go to my room?” He asked between kisses.

“Okay.” You smiled nervously. It was a first for you to do something like this, but he made you feel safe for some reason.

“How much have you had to drink?” He asked.

“Nothing, why?”

“I just want to make sure you don’t throw up when I do this.” He smirked a little and pulled away from you.

“Do what?” You wondered. In response, Tom lifted you with ease and threw you over his shoulder.

“Tom!” You laughed in surprise as he carried you up the stairs.

“It’s quicker this way.” He shouted over the music as he made his way to his bedroom. He carried you inside and locked the door behind him before gently placing you on the bed. He was top of you in no time and continued to kiss you. You made out on his unmade bed for a while as his hands explored your body. As the kissing got more heated, you started to get a pit in your stomach. You felt like things were moving a little too fast for you and it was making you nervous.

“Do you mind if we don’t go all the way tonight?“ You pulled away to ask Tom. You looked really nervous to ask, which made Tom confused.

“Do I mind?” He laughed like it was a silly thing to ask. “Of course we don’t have to.”

You sighed in relief as he rolled next to you on the bed. He scooted closer to you and turned his head so he could admire you in the dim lighting of his room.

“Sorry.” You laughed nervously. “I’m really sorry. I’m just not a one night stand kind of person. I didn’t mean to lead you on.”

“Darling, you didn’t lead me on.” Tom assured you. “And you don’t have to explain yourself for not wanting to have sex. We can just lie here and talk if you want.”

“Okay.” You smiled shyly and snuggled into his side. You stayed there in that position and talked for hours until you fell asleep in Tom’s arms. Tom looked at you while you slept and let out a guilty sigh. He had a pit of his own growing in his stomach as he replayed the day in his head.

A few hours earlier

“Did you order the kegs for the party tonight?” Harry asked the group as they sat in the campus courtyard.

“Luke did.” Harrison responded.

“Nice. I can’t believe Luke is graduating this semester. Who’s gonna be the president of the frat once he’s gone?”

“Me, obviously.” Tom chimed in.

“Not so fast, mate.” Harry snorted. “I want to be president too. I have a lot of good ideas that could really shape up the place.”

“Your last “good idea” was to crush up Doritos and snort them.” Sam reminded him.

“And it made an otherwise Tuesday night pretty exciting, did it not?” Harry scoffed.

“I also kinda want to be president.” Harrison spoke up.

“Me too.” Sam added. “I want to take a crack at it. Plus, the president gets the biggest room.”

“I need this for my resume guys.” Tom groaned. “I have literally never been in a single club. This is my only extra curricular.”

“Show of hands, who else wants to be president?” Harrison asked the frat brothers. They all raised their hands as they looked around at each other.

“We don’t have to worry about this now. We’ll just vote when the time comes.” Harry suggested.

“We can’t do a vote if we all want to be president. Everyone would just vote for themselves.” Sam reminded him.

“Then I propose we make a bet, boys.” Harrison spoke up. “You want to be president, you need to have what it takes. You need to be charming. You need people skills. You have to do the impossible.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?” Tom asked.

“Like this.” Harrison smirked. “The first person to get a girl to fall in love with them by the end of the semester gets to be president next year.”

“That’s easy.” Harry scoffed. “I already have like 3 chicks in love with me.”

“Not so fast.” Harrison held up a hand. “We get to pick each other’s girl. You have to seduce her in anyway you can and if you can get her to tell you that she loves you, you get to be president.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, gentlemen. I got this in the bag.” Tom told the table of his frat brothers with a smug grin.

“I wouldn’t be so confident, T-Bag. Because I’ve already picked a girl for you.” Harrison smirked and clapped Tom on the back.

“I don’t care.” Tom shrugged. “Pick any girl. I’ll have her eating out of the palm of my hand by the end of the day. I don’t need a whole semester.

“Okay. Her.” Harrison pointed to you across the courtyard with a shit eating grin.

“Her?” Tom sat up in his seat to get a better look at you. You were sitting alone at a table with a pencil behind your ear and multiple notebooks laid out in front of you as you typed away at something on your laptop.

“What’s the matter?” Harrison asked. “You don’t think you can pull her?”

“Of course I can.” Tom scoffed unconvincingly. “I’ve just never seen her before. I don’t even know if she goes here.”

“She definitely goes here. I always see her talking to the schools president. She has like the highest GPA in the state.” Sam told the group, making Tom grow a little nervous.

“Then she is way too smart to go for Tom.” Harry snickered.

“Shut up.” Tom shoved his brother. “I could get her to fall in love with me. Easily.”

“Yeah?” Harrison raised an eyebrow. “How?”

“Look at her. Sitting by herself in a mountain of homework, eating -what is that? Carrots and ranch? What is she a freaking Guinea pig? She’s a total loser. All I have to do is show her the slightest bit of attention and she’ll be begging on her knees to date me.” Tom shrugged as he folded his arms. He wasn’t as confident as he sounded and hoped his frat brothers wouldn’t pick up on that.

“Damn, T-Bag.” Harrison laughed. “Already picturing her on her knees?”

“Shut up. Trust me, I got this. All I have to do is sleep with her. She’ll be telling me she loves me before can even get my pants back on.” Tom replied as he held out his hands. His brothers high fived him on either hand for his objectification of a woman.

“What makes you so sure?” Harrison wondered.

“Because lonely girls like that will tell anybody that they love them just in case they say it back. And that’s the loneliest girl I’ve ever seen.” Tom said as he pointed to you. “Trust me, by this time next semester, you guys will be singing “hail to the chief” every time you see me.”

A few hours later

“Could you look anymore miserable?” Tom asked as he leaned his arm up on the wall beside you.

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lemony-snickers · 2 years

Note

HELLO

I have a demand to make.

Please give me more soft Kakashi moments. I’m craving for a soft soft Kakashi (thanks to PMS) 😭🥺

HELLO FRIEND. idk if this is exactly what you had in mind, but i hope it helps. <3

Title: The Aftermath (AO3 Link Here) Summary: Kakashi welcomes you home from a tough mission. Word Count: 1,934 Warnings: mentions of death/battle, gn!reader, otherwise fully fluff .

It is the aftermath that is always hardest. The realization of what you’ve done as the adrenaline bleeds from your system, slowly returning your pupils to their normal diameter, your heart rate to its ordinary rhythm.

When your breathing settles, that’s when your eyes scan the battlefield, when the years of training kick in and you are able to perfectly catalogue each casualty, every injury.

Those sustained by your team as well as those inflicted by it.

When you return home, you are mechanical, monotone, methodical, in your delivery. The Hokage asks questions and you answer succinctly. Provide status updates on every member of your team, the number of bodies returned in scrolls and how many enemies were successfully captured alive.

By the time you finish, you can feel the exhaustion settling into your bones like lead. Walking home takes more strength than the last seventeen days you’ve spent on the road, fighting and killing and interrogating.

Somehow, turning the key in your lock is the most difficult thing you have ever done, and you can’t quite get the teeth to line up properly in the latch.

You’re beyond grateful when the door pulls open without further intervention on your part. And you can feel the tired, dopey smile that spreads across your face when you realize who has opened it.

“Kakashi…” you breathe, feeling the weight of the past few hours—and days and weeks—lift away from your shoulders.

He obviously has the day off. Certainly, he wouldn’t be in your apartment otherwise, but he’s also dressed more casually than usual, wearing loose joggers and a tank top. He’s holding his favorite book in front of his face as if trying to hide from any potentially prying eyes in the hallway beyond your apartment. But as soon as the door swings closed behind you, he lowers it, and you stare into the handsome face of your partner, relieved and comforted by his presence.

“Kakashi,” you say again, falling against him. He catches you easily with a chuckle that reverberates through his chest. You don’t know where he’s stowed the book so quickly, but it’s gone when he wraps his arms lovingly around your shoulders, steadying you against him. “I missed you,” you murmur to his collarbone, tucked against him.

“I missed you, too,” he says, before inducing you to remove your shoes so you can come fully into your home.

It’s a struggle, taking off the infernal ninja sandals and unwrapping your ankles, but you manage it. While you curse at the sweat-soaked bandages that keep sticking together as you unwind them, Kakashi slides into the kitchen to make tea.

“How was your mission?” he asks.

“Bloody,” you say, voice cool and detached, “I’m glad it’s over.”

He hums in agreement, understanding perfectly how you must be feeling.

“Why don’t you shower while I make you something to eat?”

You grumble because you don’t want to. All you want to do is collapse on the couch or the bed with Kakashi at your side and block out the rest of the day—the week, the month—while also doing your best to forget the preceding seventeen days.

But Kakashi is insistent, hands on your shoulders as he pushes you toward the bathroom. “I promise you will feel better,” he says, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’ll be here with something tasty when you’re done.”

You scrub ineffectually at your skin, letting the water carry the worst of your grime and stink away rather than focusing on cleansing yourself more thoroughly. There will be plenty of time for true cleaning another day. Today, all you want is to get through this so you can curl up with Kakashi.

You drag yourself out of the shower and pull one of Kakashi’s uniform shirts over your head, deciding you want to wear something of his—it’s like a welcome home, dressing in his clothes, wrapping yourself up in him. You pair the shirt with a loose pair of shorts and pad your way back out into the main area of the apartment to find Kakashi settled on a cushion, a plate of fragrant fried rice and two cups of tea on the table before him.

You smile again, dopey and lovesick, utterly stricken by how lucky you are to have the Copy Ninja to return home to.

You settle onto the cushion beside him and devour the rice. It’s simple, but delicious—a specialty of all Kakashi’s cooking, you’ve learned. The man can take the least complicated dish and somehow make it a hundred times better than any previous version you’ve had. When you inquire about this seemingly magic ability, he waves you off and tells you it’s nothing, but he’s smiling and that’s enough.

Your green tea is the perfect temperature and Kakashi sips his own in silence while you eat. As soon as your plate and your cup are empty, you stand and tug Kakashi insistently toward the couch. He chuckles as he follows you, falling back against the cushions and letting you collapse against him with a soft oof.

He winds his arms around you as you snuggle against his neck, breathing in the familiar and comfortable scent of him. Yes, you think, this is exactly what you’ve been waiting for since you began the trek home, just being close to the person you care most about.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kakashi asks, voice hushed as he begins stroking his hands over your back in a soothing up and down motion.

You shake your head, “Not really. It wasn’t a bad mission, just… draining, you know? No casualties on our end but three of our squad had to be treated once we returned.”

“You got them all home in one piece,” he says, the warm tone of his voice like a blanket of reassurance.

“Yeah,” you agree, “but barely.”

You feel Kakashi’s lips ghost over your forehead and you hum, leaning into the gentle touch so you can linger in it a moment longer than strictly necessary.

“You did well. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

That much is true, you suppose. If anyone on your team had been severely injured, if anything had gone horribly wrong, you’d still be at the Hokage Tower—or worse, you think, down in the dungeon that serves at Torture & Interrogation giving a debrief or heading up the information extraction of the two rogue nin you managed to capture alive.

You tuck your face closer to Kakashi’s neck, squeeze him a little too tightly in the process. He makes a muffled sound of discomfort and you loosen your grip until he relaxes in your arms, until his hands return to soothingly stroking your back.

The windows are open, and you can hear the sounds of Konoha drifting in from the street below—children playing somewhere in the distance, the distinct call of the Hokage’s hawk nearby, probably at one of the many other windows in your apartment building, about to summon another shinobi for a mission.

As long as it isn’t Kakashi, you think, because you’re not quite ready to let him go.

“Have you been in the village this whole time?”

“Mm,” Kakashi confirms, “I had three days' leave after my last mission, you remember.”

You do, of course; Kakashi had returned half-dead on his feet from chakra depletion, though otherwise unharmed beyond the stray scratches and bruises that came with leaping through trees and sparring with even a mundane adversary. You’d left for your own mission half a day after he returned, stomach curdled sourly at the thought of leaving him to recuperate on his own.

“And after that?” you prompt gently when Kakashi doesn’t elaborate further.

You can feel the smile in his voice when he continues, “After that, I tested a new team of genin from the Academy.”

This gets your attention, and you lean up to look into Kakashi’s face, admiring the handsome line of his nose and smirking at the strange winking effect his closed sharingan eye gives him.

“And did you fail this lot, too?” you ask, trying to recall how many squads he’d sent back to the Academy since Lord Third had initially assigned Kakashi the role of jonin sensei.

Kakashi’s grin widens and he opens his left eye. You cock your head, confused by the gesture until he says, “I passed them, actually,” and you realize he wants to see every minute detail of your surprised response. You sit up and Kakashi groans when your knee presses harshly into his groin.

You sputter half an apology, but he waves you off, following you to a sitting position as you stare at him.

“You passed a team? Kakashi Hatake, harshest proctor in Konoha? The Copy Ninja? The ANBU commander? The same man who told me ‘Hiruzen Sarutobi must be going senile if he thinks I’m about to willingly become a sensei?’”

Kakashi scratches at the back of his neck a little self-consciously and mumbles, “I may have been a little preemptive on that last point. And I guess you can add sensei to my long list of ill-begotten monikers.”

For some reason, this response makes you laugh and you feel whatever remaining veil of your mission has lingered over you finally lift. It’s like walking out into the sunshine after spending all day in the scroll archives—a dark, windowless room buried in the bowels of the Hokage Tower. You take a long breath in through your nose and release it as a chuckle.

“Kakashi-sensei,” you say, not missing the slight pink tinge that dusts its way across Kakashi’s cheeks, reaching up to tug at the tips of his ears, “I like the way that sounds on you.”

His blush deepens and he ducks his head, staring at his hands in his lap as he picks at an errant hangnail.

“What if I mess it up?” he asks.

Kakashi doesn’t let this part of him be seen by most—it’s important, he’s told you time and again, for a commander to project strength and surety. That he is so open and vulnerable with you is a gift, one you have treasured since the very beginnings of your relationship.

You reach out and cup his face with one hand, knowing it’s your turn, now, to offer steady reassurance, as he has for you since you returned home and found your footing in the aftermath.

“You won’t mess it up. You’re a strong and steady commander; a good teacher. And you’re going to be a great sensei.”

You know he doesn’t fully believe you, can see the doubt lingering in his dark eye, as he seals his scarred left lid over the sharingan. But he’s seen you with it open, watched you smile in your answer, and so he knows without any doubt you are genuine in your assessment.

That you believe in him even if he doesn’t yet believe in himself.

The two of you fall back onto the couch, limbs entwined. You listen to the soft hush of Kakashi’s breathing as he catches you up on his team. You chuckle in time with the stories he tells, thwack him with the back of your hand when he tells you about running late to all their training sessions with some lame excuse.

“You should just tell them,” you say.

He runs his fingers through your hair and you can feel yourself drifting toward sleep. The last thing you hear as the tide of exhaustion pulls you under is Kakashi’s soft voice, “Maybe one day.”

#lemony scribbles #kakashi hatake #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #gn!reader #kakashi fluff #kakashi comfort #domestic fluff

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tomhardyspinkyfinger · 3 years

Text

Freddie Gets Caught

Masterlist

Summary: Freddie promises to be loyal, but lying always tops loyalty in Freddie's world.

Warnings: PURE SMUT. literal filth. Cursing and super kinky sex all around you've been warned.

A/N: yeah i really just had this idea and needed to write it. freddie needs to be put in his place and so here is this one shot. no one look at me im so ashamed. its hot tho i wont lie lmao. also hardly edited I wrote this so quick it was like flowing out

Word count: 1885

some people I think would like this: @hecatemoon87 @solomons-finest-rum @darklydeliciousdesires @potter-solomons (also known as some of my fave pages)

I had been seeing this guy Freddie for a few weeks now.

Well, fucking. I've been fucking this guy Freddie for a few weeks.

And god did he fuck.

He all but begged me for a shag when I first met him at the bar I worked at. I declined time and time again, but he kept showing up every night. I had to give props to him for his resilience but I didn't have sex with just anyone.

So I set guidelines.

1. I don't do one night stands, we don't have to date, but there will be a mutually pleasurable relationship.

2. During this brief relationship, the only people we fuck is each other.

Two very simple guidelines, if we fuck, we fuck exclusively.

"Freddie, do you understand?" I had asked him, pulling away from his firm kiss.

"Yeah yeah yeah, c'mon take this off." Freddie rushed out, pushing the straps of my dress down and pushing me against the wall of the dark alley.

That exchange was simple enough, he agreed to my terms and I gave him what we both wanted, a proper fuck.

Freddie was a possessive man in all aspects of our relationship, if by any rare chance we were out in public together his hand remained on my ass practically the entire time, and I can't say I didn't love it.

What I didn't love, was how aggressively possessive he could be. I couldn't look at another bloke without him blowing up on me, so we usually stayed at my flat to fuck to avoid his anger flare ups. But that time alone seemed to flare Freddie's emotions towards me.

He'd call, begging to come to my flat and fuck me senseless. I just couldn't find the space in my heart to deny him. And thus, our romantic relationship began.

It wasn't healthy in any aspect, he would do a line, shout at me, I'd hit him, he'd fuck me twice as hard.

Not healthy at all. But god was it fucking sexy.

It would always end pleasantly though, a hug a kiss and a back massage usually. He'd plea with me to forgive him and I always did.

Forgiving Freddie was usually pretty easy, until I caught him, which brings us to where I am now, staring at Freddie kissing a beautiful blonde woman outside of a hair salon she had just exited. Before I could second guess myself I walked up to the happy couple with a smile on my face.

"Excuse me, do you happen to have the time?" I questioned her. If I could've taken a photo of Freddie's face in that moment I would've. He paled instantly, his eyes widening while the pretty blonde smiled back at me.

"Of course love, its half past two." She spoke looking down at her watch. I spotted the beautiful diamond ring and I could feel more anger growing if possible.

"Thank you, your ring is absolutely gorgeous by the way." I said, still not looking at Freddie and smiling at the woman. She placed her hand on Freddie's chest and let out a chuckle.

"My Freddie knows how to spoil me!" She said, rubbing his chest, flashing her ring. I tied up the conversation and walked down the street, heading towards my flat. I heard Freddie telling the woman to go on home without him because he had work to attend to. At this I picked up the pace, arriving to my flat that wasn't very far away. I heard his steps running behind me, most likely delayed so he could make sure his wife was gone. I unlocked my door quickly, swinging it open and rushing in, attempting to slam it behind me.

Freddie slammed into the door just in time and shoved it open, clearly out of breath.

"Sweetheart, listen-"

"Get the fuck out, Freddie." I growled, moving to my bedroom and tossing my purse on my dresser. He grabbed me and turned me around, distress clear on his face.

"What can I do to make you forgive me? I'll do anything." He said, desperation clear in his voice.

Anything?

"Get on your knees." I spoke, crossing my arms. He released me, confusion clear on his face.

"What?"

"You heard me, do it or get out." I said. I watched as he slowly lowered himself to his knees, looking up at me.

"Beg for my forgiveness Freddie." Freddie let out a huff and paused for a moment, really debating if he was going to do this.

"Please forgive me my love, I should have told you about Jackie. I was going to break it off with her, honest."

Yeah, sure.

I pondered for a moment.

"Take your clothes off and lay on the bed." I commanded. He let out another breath and stood, beginning to do what I asked. When he completed the task. I climbed on top of him, straddling his boxer-covered cock that was pushing into my panty covered core, given I was just wearing a summer dress.

I began to kiss up his chest to his neck, nibbling the spot I knew he loved. His eyes closed and he let out a shaky moan. I quietly reached into the nightstand to the right of me and pulled out the cuffs he had used on me in numerous situations. I pushed his hands above his head with my non-occupied hand and cuffed them quickly.

His eyes snapped open and met mine. I smirked.

"What is this? Trying to take charge are we?" Freddie asked, a sly smirk gracing his features.

"You don't get to be smug now Freddie. Just you wait." I said, pushing myself down his body so I was now leaning over his growing member. I pulled his boxers down and placed him in my mouth suddenly.

"Oh fuck, that's right sweetheart, right there." Freddie moaned out. I continued pleasuring him exactly how I liked. Until a knock sounded out on my front door. Freddie halted his movements and held his breath momentarily. I slid off the bed and stood, smiling at his frustrated expression.

"Excuse the interruption darling, I told my friend Kelly she could borrow my camera for her holiday this weekend. I'll only be a moment." I began to walk towards the bedroom door when Freddie called out.

"Do not fucking leave me here, do you fucking hear me?" He all but yelled, anger growing.

"Oh sweet Freddie, if only you were in any position to be making demands. If I'm honest I've heard quite enough from you today." Freddie watched as I reached up under my dress, pulling my soaked panties down and off. I walked up to his tied up frame and pushed the balled up panties into his mouth.

"That's much better, isn't it?" He glared at me but his cock twitched.

"Oh Freddie, you like this don't you darling?" I teased, touching his tip with my finger. He exhaled loudly from his nose and I smiled wider. I left the room, shutting the door.

I welcomed Kelly in, handing her the camera and starting a small chat.

Well, a small chat that turned into a thirty minute conversation about her upcoming holiday. I was practically squirming at the idea of Freddie tied up on my bed, anxiously awaiting my return. The conversation shifted towards me with Kelly asking,

"How's that bloke you've been seeing? Freddie?" I smiled a wicked smile.

"He's married." Kelly gasped.

"What the hell are you smiling about? Let me have a go at this bloke!" She yelled, anger clear on her face.

"Oh no don't worry, he's in the room right there cuffed to the bed with my panties in his mouth, he'll have learned his lesson by the end of the day." I spoke, knowing Freddie could hear. Kelly's jaw dropped and she laughed.

"You dirty girl! I would say you're yanking my chain, but I know you better than that. I'll be out of your hair then, but that doesn't mean you get to spare me any details!" Kelly said, heading towards the door.

"Of course not, have a great holiday!" With short and sweet goodbyes, I reentered the bedroom, where Freddie laid with his face almost as red as the tip of his cock.

"Miss me?" The glare Freddie gave sent a chill down my spine, but as of now I was in charge, and the repercussions wouldn't be a problem yet. I noticed my panties stayed in his mouth, which widen my smirk. He very easily could have spit them out if he wanted to.

I stripped off the remaining clothes I had on slowly, letting him take in my body before mounting him again. I reached into my nightstand again, retrieving a condom and rolling it on his still rock hard cock. His breathing was heavy again, and watched as I slowly eased myself down on him.

I rocked my hips back and forth and let out a moan. I placed both hands on his chest and rocked faster, smiling at how hard his knuckles were clenched in the cuffs. I rode him until we were both close, but came to a stop suddenly. Freddie let out a loud groan. I pulled my panties out of his mouth.

"Beg me to let you come, Freddie." I said, holding still with him inside of me.

"When I'm out of these cuffs, you're going to fucking get it babe." Freddie growled out, trying to move his hips. I gently smacked his face, halting his movements.

"That's not what I wanted to hear baby boy." He closed his eyes and groaned, knowing he needed to give me what I want.

"Please, please, let me come." Freddie all but whined out.

Music to my ears.

I began rocking my hips back and forth quickly, both of our moans filling the room.

"Let go Freddie." I commanded, feeling my impending orgasm. We both came together, loud moans falling from both of our mouths. I collapsed on his chest, exhausted from the event.

I reached up and uncuffed him before rolling off of him and onto my side of the bed. He put an arm around me and grabbed a cig from the nightstand, lighting up and taking a puff. He placed it in-between my lips and let me inhale before speaking.

"I deserve much worse than what you did love, I'm sorry for lying." I exhaled the smoke from my lungs.

"It doesn't matter Freddie, I would've kept fucking you regardless." I said.

What? Don't judge, I already said our relationship was unhealthy.

"Let's just go to bed Freddie, I'm beat." He nodded and I snuggled closer into him, falling asleep almost instantly

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I awoke late into the night, feeling the warmth of Freddie's arms around my legs, his face pushed into my pussy, licking away hungrily. I moaned, overjoyed with this late night wake up call. I went to put my hands in his hair and hold him in place, but my wrists were stopped by cold metal. Freddie kissed his way up my body and out from under the blankets, looking at me with a smirk.

"I couldn't just let you get away with all of that, love."

Fuck.

#freddie jackson #freddie jackson x reader #the take #tom hardy #tom hardy smut #freddie jackson smut #smutty #so smutty omg #pure filth #tom hardy x reader #reader insert

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toasterdrake · 3 years

Note

hi!!! i've just read most of your writing and it's all very very good!!! your yelena fic made me smile, so i'd like to request a protective!yelena where one of the team accidentally hurts R and yel goes batshit? i'd also like to be added to your taglist, if you have one?

Hi there, my love <3 Thank you so much! I'm always happy to write for Yelena. I hope this fulfills your request! It got away from me a little, but I'm happy with it :)

Unfortunate

Yelena Belova x gn!Reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 766

Warnings: description of physical fight, minor injuries

Summary: Steve and Clint have some bad luck. Doubly so when it starts including you.

(Gif not mine)

👊👊👊

You don't see Steve's fist coming.

Steve doesn't expect you to meet it with your face.

It's a straight shot, powerfully persuasive enough to erupt in sparks just underneath your skin.

You fall back against the firm ropes of the sparring ring, feeling them give a little under your weight.

You're more mentally frazzled than anything. The warmth of blood dripping from your nose is only faintly noted; a hazy dream already half-forgotten in wakefulness. You stare up at Steve blankly, and he stares back looking downright mortified.

In fact, he's so distracted, he misses the raging blonde blur behind him until it's too late.

Yelena crashes into Steve with all the force of the deadly Russian bear she is, having shot up from the sidelines like a sniper's bullet.

Caught off guard, the supersoldier crashes to the ground. His body strikes the mat with a bodily thump that arches his back impressively in the rebound. Yelena is on top of him in a flash, straddling his burly frame as she delivers harsh hit after harsh hit directly to his face.

Second-hand shame rises awkwardly in your throat, clawing its way up as Steve accepts every one without complaint or retaliation. You feel each bite to his skin as if was your own.

(If you and Yelena were switched, you know without doubt you'd expect nothing less, but even so it stings to watch him readily accept punishment when it isn't his fault.)

You pull yourself together, standing independently as your head clears. You don't want your girlfriend to murder Steve.

Yelena is screaming obscenities in his face when you stride forward and wrap your arms around her waist. You lock up your muscles, threatening to crush a few vital things as she spits and hisses and screams and fights to escape your grip. Her chartreuse eyes burn red with fury, no doubt painting her gaze crimson.

Steve watches her struggle in your arms from the mat, broken nose already healing as Sam helps him stand and leads him away. The bruises will take longer.

With his exit, Yelena seems to realise her pursuit is in vain because she relaxes a little, furious convulsing calmed to timid pawing.

She fully melts when you press a kiss to the back of her neck, warm lips velvet on her skin. The building panic eases from your chest like a sudden gush of cool air into a stifled room with her reaction.

You relax your hold, too, and swing her loose body playfully. This time, her wriggles to be placed back down are only so that she can turn around to reach you.

As soon as her feet touch the floor she's twisting on her heels and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to connect your lips with hers. You move against each other slowly, soaking in the other's taste and scent and natural warmth.

Her protectiveness shines through again as she growls into your lips, "Anyone who hurts you will pay," Before reclaiming you breathlessly.

You fail to hide a wince as she touches your cheek, and she pulls back suddenly, guilt flashing in her eyes.

You take her hand in your own before she can retract it, placing a sweet kiss to her palm.

She softens. Unspoken words are traded between your gazes.

You let her clean the dried blood, lead you to medical, make tea with soothing fragrances that ease the ache.

It takes a while, but with your coaxing reassurance, she forgets her grudge on Steve.

In fact, two weeks after the incident, you stumble across the unlikely pair making bacon muffins.

Yelena offers you the first bite -- which you oh-so-politely decline, since you definitely had a snack earlier, thank you very much -- so she claims it herself.

The range of expressions she shifts through goes blissfully unnoticed by Steve (a full head above her) as he hums a song and chews on his own meat muffin.

"Make a pie next time."

You wipe a morsel of batter from her cheek, dancing away from her chasing lips to avoid a taste you know lingers.

Clint throws his hands out to prevent a collision in the doorway. Everything is badly timed, and you fall to the floor anyway. You know it looks like he pushed you.

Clint spends the rest of the day hiding in the vents, a red imprint of Yelena's knuckles on his forehead.

She holds you close all that time, since "every time you step away, you get hurt."

You don't complain.

Her fierce desire to protect you never fails to make you feel loved; wanted; cared for. Your friends will recover just fine. Your girlfriend loves you.

👊👊👊

Taglist:

@astupidworkinprogress @themagnificentmx

love,

- bi-rd ☕

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova fluff #lynx writes

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personasintro · 3 years

Note

maybe jk being there for YN, when she’s having bad period cramps? or is that too cliché

A part of Mutual Help series!

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language

word count: 1k+

“Does it still hurt?”

Jungkook’s voice shakes you out of your daze, doing its bare minimum to distract you from the pain in your lower stomach and back. Not even the heating pad helps that much and you’re waiting for the pills to start kicking in. Jungkook sets the alchemy tea you asked for onto the coffee table and sits beside you, carefully as if you’ll break if he sits down any faster.

“Uhm,” you almost whine, cuddling to the blanket you’ve managed to get from your bedroom before the real pain has started. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jungkook asks, brows pinching together as he watches you looking at him through hooded eyes. Your lips look a little bit dry and your skin is pale. He has seen you in this state quite a few times by now but he still can’t quite imagine what you’re going through.

You’ve always been vocal about your period cramps and pain, it’s not something Jungkook could avoid even if he wanted to (not that he wanted to). Your mood swings are one of the biggest factors that tell him that yes, you’re going through the enormous pain every woman goes through every month.

“We were supposed to hang out together,” you murmur into the blanket, breathing through the pain as Jungkook shakes his head and scoots closer to you to check your temperature.

Your body gets heated and then all of a sudden you’re very cold, hugging the blanket for your dear life like you’re doing at the moment. He’s seen this image a few times and all those times, he has learned what to do to at least help you in some way. You specifically and some of it he has learned from his girlfriend’s own experience.

“I ruined our plans.”

“Hey, no, don’t say that,” Jungkook scolds you immediately, his features twisting to a worry when he sees your cramped position. “You can’t control this.”

You know that but yet, you do feel bad because instead of going to the cinema like you planned to, you know you’re not going anywhere tonight. Jungkook has come to your place to pick you up as you were getting ready before you’ve started feeling the first symptoms of your period coming, cramps and your lower back hurting like a bitch.

“But I was supposed to get it tomorrow,” you whine again, obviously upset with your own body for ruining your plans. “And we finally got to see the newest Fast & Furious!”

That makes Jungkook laugh as you look at him, visibly annoyed and upset. “We can watch it next time, they’re playing it for another week.”

“But tonight’s the premiere!” you exclaim, wincing right away as you feel the pills slowly kicking in, your pain and cramps delaying.

“Or we can watch it once it’s online.”

“That’s not the same,” you murmur, “You know watching it in the cinema is the best.”

“It is, so what?” Jungkook sighs, “It’s not the end of the world, Y/N.”

“But it feels like it!” you whine, causing Jungkook to sigh again as he looks around the living room before he hears a sniffle that completely catches him off guard.

You’re dramatic, overreacting and you blame the stupid hormones for it. Just thinking how excited you were about tonight’s plans and the movie… it makes you want to cry. Jungkook finished his work earlier so he could come to pick you up and take you to see the movie and now, it’s all ruined. Obviously, you know it’s not your fault and there’s nothing you can do about it because all you want is for this pain to go away. However… There are hormones and the pain mixed together.

“Hey, come on,” Jungkook interrupts your sniffling and brushes the hair off your face a little as he notices your red cheeks caused by the blanket wrapped around you and the heating pad on your lower back. “Don’t be like this.”

“I can’t control it, Jungkook!” you cry out, now fully crying as Jungkook tries to stifle the need to laugh but also, he does feel bad to see you like this.

“You want me to rub your back?” he asks, giving you a minute to think it through before you slowly sit up.

“My lower back hurts, I’ll keep the heating pad on my stomach,” you inform him, already motioning for him to properly sit up and lean against the couch.

He does it, hiding his grin as you cuddle up to him. The heating pad almost burns his side but he doesn’t comment on it, welcoming you in his embrace. As you make yourself comfortable, you feel his hand gently rubbing your lower back.

“Why do I have to go through this every month?” you whine, cheek pressed against his shoulder as his body slightly shakes when he chuckles.

“Because you want to be a mom someday?”

“I’m debating about it,” you mutter.

“You say that every month,” Jungkook comments amusingly.

Ignoring him, you open your mouth again. “Why can’t I be a man? I’d just stick it in and wouldn’t have to worry about bleeding to death every month. Don’t get me started on all the pain.”

“And the mood swings,” Jungkook interjects, feeling you glare at him as he presses his lips into a tight line. “You also say that a lot. About the man part, I mean. And you’re not bleeding to death, god you’re so dramatic.”

“It definitely feels like it…” you murmur again.

Jungkook knows there’s no point arguing with you about this. Not that he wants to argue about this but there’s just no point in pointing out all the things you say every month.

“Okay, drama queen,” Jungkook chuckles, “Make sure to drink the tea while it's warm.”

“Yeah, yeah…” you hum, feeling slightly better with each passing minute.

As Jungkook asks you if he should turn on TV so you could watch at least something, you’re a few minutes into the movie when you murmur Jungkook’s name. He hums back, eyes on the screen but his hand still rubbing your back that doesn’t hurt just as bad.

“Thank you.”

You hear him chuckle, knowing he just smiled without even looking at him. Maybe the evening isn’t spent as you’ve planned it but it feels nice to have Jungkook here. Especially when he brings ice cream from your freezer and you both share it once you feel good enough to eat something.

#networkbangtan #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts au #ask: mutual help #bts fluff #bts angst #personasintro

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shingekinohyrulewrites · 3 years

Text

Breathe

Being Yachi's roommate has its pros and cons, with the biggest con being one of her longtime friends, Kageyama Tobio. You hate his guts.

Until you don't.

Read on AO3 here

I was inspired by the song "Breathe" by Jax Jones. You can listen to it here

Although this is a one-shot, it is pretty long. Whoops :^)

Also THERE BE SMUT AHEAD 18+ ONLY PLEASE

Being Yachi Hitoka’s roommate had its pros and cons.

The list of pros was extensive. You not only had a roommate, you had a best friend. When Yachi wasn’t busy at her marketing job, the two of you were out and about exploring different bars, restaurants, and going on different adventures. If you two were tired and just needed time at home, you would stay wrapped up on the couch eating cheap takeout while watching a random romantic movie on Netflix. Because Yachi was so nice, she had many friends, which meant that you had a lot of new friends too. She often went out of her way to introduce you to them and always invited you to every hangout with them.

But her being friendly had a single con. And it wasn’t a situational con, it was a person.

You would never forget when you met her close friends from her first year of high school. Yachi had been so excited for you to meet them, planning a small barbeque for all of you. Being the best ever roommate that you are, you helped her set up and decorated your small backyard before they showed up. You had really enjoyed talking to Hinata and Yamaguchi and had shot the shit with Tsukishima, who had the same sense of humor as you.

Kageyama Tobio was the single con to being Yachi Hitoka’s roommate.

He had come off as cold and aloof, being very serious when talking to everyone. You had introduced yourself to him, greeting him warmly as you stated that you were Yachi’s roommate. He had taken one look at you, given a curt nod, and walked away. You were frozen. You thought of yourself as a really friendly person, so his response had you on edge. When you were all sitting at the table eating, you had tried getting to know him better in an effort to break the ice. He had still been short and curt with you, which caused you to fume internally. You had stayed with them until you deemed you had spent enough social time before excusing yourself for the night.

After they had all left, you confronted Yachi about him and asked her what his deal was. She had defended him, saying his social skills weren’t the best and that he tended to come off cold at first.

“I swear! He was like that with me but now we’re really close!”

You had decided to give him the benefit of the doubt but your annoyance with him still stuck in the back of your head. A few weeks passed before you would see him again. The two of you had been invited to Sawamura Daichi’s home for a barbeque and you had happily agreed. You had gotten really close to Daichi, even going so far as to call him “Daddy Daichi” as a joke. He was beyond excited to see you when you arrived, pulling you into a tight hug and swinging you around. Your happiness only lasted about ten minutes before a familiar face walked in. Kageyama walked in holding a six pack of beer in each hand alongside Hinata. Everyone greeted him happily and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, instead turning back to Daichi to continue chatting with him.

The two of you had begun joking around and you had called him Daddy Daichi as usual. You were so into the conversation that you hadn’t heard Kageyama approach you. He cleared his throat, causing you to jump up and quickly turn around. A huge frown was on his face as he jerked his head towards Daichi.

“Have more respect for Daichi. Don’t just call him derogatory names like that.”

Your mouth fell open as you scrambled to find a response. Anger immediately began to flood your body, your face heating up as you began to see red. Daichi placed a heavy hand on your shoulder and chuckled.

“Thank you for your concern, Kageyama. The two of us are good friends so I don’t mind.”

He nodded, giving you a quick glare before walking off. You turned back to Daichi and threw your hands up.

“What’s his problem, Daichi?! He’s been giving me such a hard time since I met him.”

“That’s just Kageyama. You get used to him. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you after some time.”

That day began a bitter relationship between you two. Anytime the two of you were put together in a social setting, it was guaranteed that the two of you would end up in some kind of argument using snarky words and comebacks. At first, everyone was annoyed with the bickering, always asking the two of you to lay it off. However, over time, it developed into a sort of amusement for everyone and they would joke about expecting it the second the both of you walked through the door. Tsukishima was the worst, always joking that the two of you should sleep together to “just get it over with.”

Needless to say, you had punched Tsukishima for saying that.

***

“Are you sure you can’t stay, not even for a little?”

Yachi was pouting at you, hands clasped together under her chin. You laughed, ruffling her hair as you shook your head.

“No, I’m sorry. I gave my word that I would go to this birthday dinner.”

She relented, letting out a long sigh before pulling you into a hug.

“Okay, fine. I’ll forgive you this one time.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing again as you asked if she needed help with anything. She was about to answer when the door flew open and a very talkative Hinata ran in, with an annoyed Kageyama right after.

“Never mind. That’s my cue to go!” you said, turning to move to your room.

The birthday dinner you were going to was being held by some old college friends of yours. They were known to dress to the nines for special occasions, so you felt pressured to do the same. You decided to jump into the shower and take a long time to truly pamper yourself. Before you jumped in, you decided on a playlist and started the water. You had been showering for about ten minutes when a series of loud knocks rang out.

“Oi, let me in. Hinata took a huge shit and the other bathroom smells.”

“Kageyama?! What the fuck?! I’m showering!”

“I’ll be quick, just let me in!”

“What the - no!” you squeaked out.

The thought of Kageyama seeing you naked had heat flaring through your body but you pushed it aside.

“Just suck it up and go use the other bathroom!” you yelled out.

“Whatever. I’ll just go piss in your room. Also, shut that music off. It’s really annoying.”

“Kageyama, you better not!” you threatened.

You faintly heard the sound of footsteps fading away and a part of you wanted to run after him and make sure he wasn’t serious. He could be pretty crude but most of his words tended to be empty promises. Sighing, you figured you would continue on with your shower.

You passed Kageyama in the hallway to your bedroom. His eyes shifted towards yours slowly before he spoke.

“Yachi came through with the Febreeze. You got lucky this time.”

He walked past you, whistling loudly as you fumed quietly. Shaking your head, you made your way over to your room and finished getting ready. You took your time getting ready, making sure that your makeup was on point and that your outfit looked great. You had settled on a low cut blouse, a leather skirt, and heeled booties. Your friends had ordered you an Uber and it was down the street so you quickly grabbed your purse and ran out of your room. Yachi and the boys were in the living room, chatting loudly while they munched on chips. Upon hearing the click of your heels, they all fell silent and turned to look at you.

“Damn, you actually look hot for once,” Tsukishima smirked.

“Thanks Tsuki,” you winked, laughing as you walked past them to the door.

What went unnoticed by you was Kageyama’s eyes lingering on your figure.

***

To say the dinner had been fun was an understatement. You were on your way back in an Uber a little after 1:30 in the morning. Your words were slurred as you thanked the driver, stepping out of the car to stumble up to your front door. Your hands were shaking from the alcohol as you tried to open the door, your keys failing to fit into the keyhole. You finally managed to open the door and you quietly closed the door behind you. Sighing, you reached down to take off your heels to prevent any noise. You stumbled over your feet, nearly falling flat on your face as you tried to catch yourself. The movement caused the room to spin and you threw your arms out to steady yourself. Sucking in a deep breath, you waited for the room to stop before you slowly bent down to pick up your shoes. You started to walk slowly towards the hall when the room began to spin again. On instinct, you threw your arms out, heels in each hand, as you waited for it to stop again.

“Are you okay?”

You nearly shrieked at the sound of Kageyama’s voice. Even though the room was dark, you could make out his head from the couch. His hair was sticking up in every direction from sleep.

“Kageyama, what the fuck! What are you doing here?”

“Are you drunk?”

You scoffed. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

“You clearly are. Let me help you again before you fall on your face.”

He rose from the couch and walked over to you. He grabbed your arm and placed it around his shoulder and wrapped an arm around your waist. The two of you walked quietly towards your room. He gently set you down on your bed, helping you adjust your legs. He muttered a quick be right back before ducking out of your room. You faintly heard the sound of rustling in your kitchen before he returned.

“Here. Take one now and one when you wake up.”

He handed you an Advil and a glass of water. He placed a second Advil on your nightstand. Sighing, you threw it back and took a big gulp of water. Kageyama studied you for a second before giving a curt nod and began walking out.

“Wait. Why are you being so nice to me?”

He froze and turned his head to peer at you over his shoulder.

“All I’ve wanted is for you to like me. I tried my best to be nice to you when I met you.”

You didn’t hear his response as you passed out at that moment.

***

The warmth of the sun on your face is what woke you up the next morning. You were groggy as your eyes slowly opened, taking in the sight of your room. The blankets were pulled up to your chest, your shoes placed neatly by the door. Your hands scrambled for your phone on the nightstand and felt something small. Turning your head, you saw Advil and a glass of water.

Yachi must have heard me come in last night and left me this. She’s so sweet.

Smiling, you took the pill and downed the water. You didn’t feel as crappy as you were expecting to, which surprised you given how much you had drank last night. Yawning, you scrolled through your phone until the smell of eggs reached your nose. You threw the blankets aside and padded down the hallway.

Yachi was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she poured eggs onto a plate. She turned upon hearing your footsteps and smiled.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. I didn’t hear you come home last night. I was so worried when I went to bed and you hadn’t come home.”

“Oh, well you must have heard me since you left me some Advil and water.”

She looked at you confused.

“What are you talking about?”

You blinked at her, trying to process the whole situation.

“Good morning.”

Kageyama was standing at the end of the hallway, hair sticking up in all directions. He was staring at you with a coolness you had never seen before.

“Uh, what are you doing here?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Tobio stayed behind and helped me clean up last night. By the time we finished it was really late so he spent the night.”

You blinked at him, whispering you were going to wash up before brushing past him. Your mind began to reel as you tried to remember what happened last night. You had been on the verge of blacking out when you left the restaurant. The Uber ride was a memory, but the walk to the front door and what came after was a blur. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you realized you must have browned out as soon as you got home. The thought of Kageyama bringing you Advil and water had you confused as all hell.

Why in the world would Kageyama do something nice for me?

The coolness of his expression had heat flushing to your cheeks. He tended to regard you with annoyance or anger every time he looked at you. But there was just something about that coolness that had you feeling a certain type of way.

You returned to the kitchen with a washed face, brushed teeth, and a messy bun. Deciding to have some fun with the situation, you had changed into a crop top and some track shorts. Kageyama’s eyes strayed on your legs before he slowly shifted them back to his eggs. Smiling, you sat down and began serving yourself some food.

***

That day created another shift in your relationship. The two of you bickered less and began to tolerate each other more. You noticed there was a bit of protectiveness coming from Kageyama, which you brushed aside most of the time. Months went by until Halloween was just around the corner. One of Yachi’s coworkers was throwing a massive party at their home. They had encouraged her to bring as many friends as she wanted and she had happily obliged. She invited every single person in her friend group, you included.

You had decided to go as a Playboy bunny and were definitely putting out all the stops. Hinata was set to pick you girls up at eight sharp so you had started getting ready at four. When Yachi knocked at your door five minutes before pickup, her mouth fell open.

“Okay, you’re making me rethink my costume.”

She was dressed as an adorable Red Riding Hood, eyes shining under the hood. Her eyes roamed your figure before settling on your face again. You were wearing a black, low cut bodysuit that completely showed off your cleavage. Tights were out of the question because you wanted to show off your legs and body. Black ears topped the look with waves accentuating your face and a tail on the curve where your back met your ass. Knowing you would be on your feet, you had settled for a pair of black flats.

“Yachi, you look adorable! Keep your costume on, seriously.”

A loud honk outside interrupted you both and you quickly grabbed your things and scrambled outside. Hinata was waving from his window, a large grin on his boyish face. The two of you slipped into the backseat, greeting them both cheerily as you put on your seatbelts. Hinata turned around, mouth open to return your greeting but it closed upon seeing you.

“Whoa, you look sexy!”

You giggled, thanking him as you shyly looked away. Hinata was always nothing but polite and friendly with you so his comment caught you off guard. Your eyes shifted over to Kageyama, who was watching you quietly from the passenger seat. He turned back to face the front, the sharp outlines of his side profile illuminated in the streetlight.

“Nice costume, Shoyo,” Yachi giggled, gesturing to his Chewbaca costume. His hair was styled in a way that was even more messy than usual. He laughed, replying with an excited “thanks” before starting the car and driving off. The two settled into a light conversation, catching up with each other and cracking jokes in between.

Your eyes slowly moved back to study Kageyama. He was dressed as a vampire, a red cloak hanging from his shoulders. You figured his sister had helped him put his look together. His hair was styled neatly in an old fashioned way, hair pushed back off his forehead. Pale makeup gave him an undead look, blue eyes popping against the contrast. Red face paint was smeared around his lips, giving the look of fake blood. Underneath his cloak, a black button down was tucked into black slacks, showing off his toned legs.

You swallowed. Since when was Kageyama attractive?

Hinata and Yachi carried the conversation the rest of the way. Her co-worker's home was in its own plot of land, the closest neighbor half a mile down the road. The car slowly pulled to a stop at the ornate gate, Hinata opening the window to stick his head out.

“Your coworker lives here? This is basically a mansion!”

“I guess so? I know he has money but this is crazy.”

Hinata drove the car up the driveway and pulled into a parking spot between two cars. Everyone got out of the car and walked into the loud home. Halloween decorations were tastefully placed throughout, with fake fog drifting in the air. Music blasted from the large living room where people were dancing all over. Yachi pulled her phone out and scrolled through her messages.

“Yama told me the gang was here. We need to go find them!” she yelled.

You all followed her as she weaved her way through the crowds. It was Tsukishima who gave them away, blonde head sticking out in the crowd. He was dressed as a salt shaker, with Yamaguchi as the pepper. Yachi greeted them all, waving excitedly as she approached. The guys were all talking amongst themselves and fell quiet when you approached. Feeling self conscious, you gave a small wave before wrapping an arm around your body.

“Whoa, you look fucking hot. Seriously, you are probably the hottest girl here,” Nishinoya said in disbelief, eyes wide as he took in your figure.

“Do a spin for us!” Yamaguchi said, whooping.

You laughed, obliging and playfully shaking your hips as you did so. The rest of the boys whooped and cheered you on. Laughing, you bowed before flashing them a big grin. Suga announced he was going to get you all some drinks before disappearing with Asahi. You all fell into separate conversations. Nishinoya had continued to fawn over you so you had decided to appease him and just talk with him. You noted Kageyama was standing close to you, talking quietly with Daichi as his eyes kept shifting over to you. Biting your lip, you began looking around for Suga for your drink.

“Let’s have some fun!”

A red cup was placed in your hand. Everyone held their drinks up to toast before knocking it back.

***

That was the clearest memory you had of that night. Taking advantage of Yachi’s coworker’s kindness, you drank as much as you could and tried to have as much fun as possible. The last time you had drank was the birthday dinner that still stuck out in your mind. Slowly, one by one, each person in your friend group left. Daichi and Suga were the first to go, stating they had work early the next day. Tsuki and Yama left an hour after, saying they were getting tired and couldn’t keep up. Asahi left twenty minutes later, wanting to avoid getting even more drunk.

By the time two AM rolled around, only Nishinoya, Tanaka, and Kageyama were left. To say you were drunk was an understatement. As you had slipped into the void that was blacking out, you knew you would regret this in the morning. Kageyama and Tanaka each had an arm wrapped around you as they helped you outside.

“Are you gonna be alright? You’re pretty sloshed,” Nishinoya observed, concerned.

“S’okay,” you slurred. “I’ll manage.”

You stood there, humming to yourself as the boys discussed what to do. Kageyama insisted he would take you and promised the guys he would text them once he got you home safe. They departed then, waving goodbye as they disappeared down the driveway.

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you out of your stupor. Looking up, you saw Kageyama on his phone looking for an Uber. He glanced down at you, a soft frown on his face.

“You okay? Do you need something?” he muttered.

“You’re so tall,” you slurred, giggling.

“Thanks.”

“You looked really handsome tonight. I didn’t know Kageyama Tobio could be handsome,” you admitted, letting out another giggle.

Before he could respond, a small group of guys on their way out began wolf whistling at you. They were obviously drunk. One man made a comment about your ass before making a suggestive gesture. He laughed, stumbling away with his friends. Kageyama scowled, mumbling obscenities under his breath as he pulled off his cape and wrapped it around you. You snuggled into it, breathing in his scent and sighing in content. The Uber pulled up then and he helped lead you into the backseat.

The drive home was quiet as you dozed off on his shoulder. He still had an arm wrapped securely around your shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles onto it. Once you got home, he carefully helped you out of the car. He thanked the driver before turning to face you.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay? Don’t panic.”

You nodded, throwing your arms out sloppily as he approached you. He carefully picked you up bridal style, walking slowly as he approached your front door. The lights were off, which meant Yachi was fast asleep. He was quiet as he carried you to your room. Just like the first time, he carefully laid you down before disappearing and returning with a glass of water and two Advils. You happily took the pill and downed the water. He left and returned with a fresh glass of water. He studied you for a second before nodding and turning to go.

“Can you stay with me?”

He hesitated. “I . . . I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” you pouted. “Please?”

He hesitated again before sighing. Smiling, you settled into your blankets and got comfortable. You were passed out before he even slipped into bed with you.

***

Warm.

You knew the warmth of the sun, but this warmth was different.

Opening one eye, you glanced around you. A pile of unfamiliar clothes was at the foot of your bed. Eyes wide, you began to panic internally.

Did I bring someone home?!

A soft snore next to you answered your question. Slowly turning around, you turned towards the figure. A hand quickly clamped over your mouth as you let out a gasp. Kageyama was asleep next to you, soft snores coming from his mouth. His pale makeup was smudged all over your pillowcase.

You watched him for a minute, admiring how handsome he was. Panic rose again and you felt your heart leap into your chest. Did you hook up with him?! Did Tsukishima’s joke about you two sleeping together finally come true? You slowly lifted your blanket and looked down at yourself. You were still wearing your outfit from the night. Sighing, you slowly got out of bed and tiptoed to the bathroom.

Splashing cold water on your face, you tried to come up with a plan. What would you say to him? What would you do? What was going to happen moving forward? As you brushed your teeth and tried to make yourself more presentable, you practiced various lines you could say to Kageyama.

When you emerged almost twenty minutes later, the man of the hour was sitting up, scrolling through his phone. The blanket had fallen off of him, exposing his toned chest and abs. Biting your lip, you sucked in a breath and put on your gentlest smile.

“Good morning, Kageyama.”

He glanced up from his phone. You had changed out of your bodysuit and were now wearing an oversized T shirt. His eyes flickered up your legs before he cleared his throat.

“Good morning.”

There was an awkward moment of silence.

“Um, do you want to go for breakfast? I think I should thank you since you got me home . . . I think.”

“I did,” he confirmed. “But I should get going. I have an appointment with my personal trainer.”

He slipped out of bed. Heat immediately rose to your cheeks at the sight of him in just his boxer briefs. Humming to himself, he began collecting his clothes and dressing himself. You shyly looked away until he was standing in front of you. He cocked his head to the side, his expression unreadable.

“Please be safe. You had me worried last night.”

He turned to go and, before you could respond, was out the door. You blinked, trying to process everything that had happened in the last twelve hours. The sound of the front door closing brought you out of your reverie. You ran to the front door just in time to see Kageyama depart in a car. You waited until the car turned down the street, leaving you breathless on the porch.

“What is my life anymore?!” you groaned.

***

Thanksgiving came and went and Christmas arrived quickly. Sugawara always hosted the holiday at his home, going out of his way to decorate and make a lavish dinner for everyone. After dinner, games were played until midnight when everyone would open their gifts. You were extra excited because this year, to switch things up, you would be doing Secret Santa. Suga had put everything together and, ironically, you had pulled him. He had been talking nonstop about a new baking set and you had dropped quite a bit in buying him the newest, top of the line baking materials. You had wrapped everything neatly into a large, glittery bag and was tying on a ribbon when Yachi skipped into your room.

“Are you nearly ready? Yama is going to pick us up this time.”

“Yeah! I just need to spray some perfume and put some lipstick on.”

Yamaguchi pulled into your driveway and came in, offering to help carry all of your gifts. The both of you thanked him and got into the backseat while he finished loading everything into the trunk. Tsukishima was in the front seat playing Candy Crush while he waited.

“Wooow Tsuki, you actually look put together for once!” you teased.

Suga’s parties always had a theme. The previous year was pajama themed and the year before that was elf themed. This year, the host had decided on a red and green theme. Tsuki was wearing a jade green long sleeved shirt tucked into slacks. He rolled his eyes, chuckling as he turned around to ruffle your hair.

“I could say the same thing about you,” he smirked.

You laughed, giving him a cheeky smile as you rolled your eyes at him too. The two of you settled into a light conversation as Yamaguchi finished loading everything up before slipping into the driver’s seat. The drive was filled with Yachi and Yama singing along (terribly) to Christmas songs on the radio. By the time you arrived at Suga’s home, you and Tsuki never wanted to hear Mariah Carey again.

“Merry Christmas! Come on in and get a cup of hot cocoa!”

Suga was wearing a red turtleneck with a Mrs. Claus apron over it. He was holding a tray of gingerbread cookies, a gentle smile on his face. You happily took one, thanking him before skipping to the kitchen. Daichi and Hinata were talking as they grabbed hot cocoa and they greeted you with tight hugs. The sound of footsteps behind you had you turning away to peer at the person. Kageyama was staring coolly at you, blue eyes a good contrast to his emerald green sweater. You gave him a small nod before disappearing into the dining room.

Dinner was delicious as always, with a nice pumpkin pie for dessert. A wide variety of games was presented and everyone quickly got into groups. Still full from the meal, you had decided to stay behind and just watch from a slight distance. Cup of hot cocoa in your hand, you leaned against the wall and smiled to yourself at the sight of your friends so happy together. You were so transfixed on the scene that you had failed to hear Kageyama approach you.

“Uh oh! Friends, what is our number one rule for Christmas this year?”

Suga’s voice boomed above everyone else, a mischievous glint in his eye as he stared at you. Confused, you glanced around the room at everyone. Every single pair of eyes was looking at you, eyes wide, as you leaned against the wall.

“Whoever gets stuck under the mistletoe has to kiss!” Nishinoya yelled, grinning.

Panicking, you peered up above you to see said mistletoe hanging over your head. You slowly turned your head to the left to see Kageyama staring at you, a slight blush on his cheeks. Panic continued to rise in you as you glanced helplessly at your friends. Yachi was sitting next to Kiyoko, an apologetic look on both of their faces. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you turned to look back at Kageyama.

“Um . . .” you didn’t know what to say or even what to do.

It was Kageyama who made the first move. He took a careful step forward, hesitating slightly as he bent his head down towards you. You blinked up at him, frozen in your spot as your brain scrambled to understand what was going on. He gently placed a hand on your cheek before leaning in and pressing a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. His thumb stroked your cheek as he quickly swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before quickly pulling back.

The room had gotten deathly silent. Everyone’s mouth seemed to have fallen open upon witnessing that moment. Hinata was the first one to break the silence, letting out a loud OH MY GOD before collapsing into his seat. Tanaka and Nishinoya began applauding while Daichi and Asashi sighed, exchanging knowing glances. Kageyama cleared his throat before muttering he needed the bathroom and dashing into the hall. Nodding, you numbly turned to Yachi and awkwardly walked over to her.

She opened her mouth to say something but you shook your head, not wanting to speak. Kiyoko gave you a sad look before pulling you into a tight hug. Sighing, you stated you wanted to play What Do You Meme? with them to distract yourself.

An hour before midnight, Suga announced it was time for the Secret Santa reveal. Everyone sat in a circle, chatting while they tried to guess who had pulled who. Suga, being the host, went first, revealing that he had gotten Daichi. A series of loud complaints filled the room, saying that Suga had done this on purpose. He swore it was a coincidence as he handed Daichi his gift, a set of weights and a cologne he had been talking nonstop about.

The exchange went on, everyone surprised at who had gotten who. Everyone burst out laughing when Asahi, who had gotten Tanaka, had gotten him a Santa thong as a gag gift. Both his and Kiyoko’s faces turned bright red as Asahi said he “hoped they enjoyed it together.” Grumbling, Tanaka stood and grabbed his gift before stomping over to Kageyama. He was given a new pair of sneakers, which he thanked Tanaka for. Leaning over from his seat, Kageyama grabbed his gift and slowly stood. He hesitated before walking over to you.

“Merry Christmas,” he said quietly.

Stunned, you gingerly took the gift from his hands. He returned to his seat, eyes watching you intensely as you opened it. A large gift basket was filled with skincare products that looked quite expensive. Taped to the front was a Christmas card with your name sloppily written on it. You opened it and found a free trip to the local spa that was known for its exquisite treatments but high cost.

“Kageyama, I . . . I don’t know what to say,” you said, looking at him in disbelief.

“I know you work really hard and I figured you needed something to help you relax,” he shrugged, the red tint returning to his cheeks.

You blinked at him, thanking him as you stood and grabbed your gift. Suga was beyond happy with the baking set and promised even tastier desserts for next year. At this point, it was five minutes to midnight. Everyone stood up and gathered around the tree, talking excitedly as they counted down. You stood on the outskirts, an arm wrapped around yourself as you stared at Kageyama’s gift at your feet.

“Was it too much?”

His quiet voice startled you from your thoughts. You peered up at him. He was staring at you with slight concern touching his brows. You shook your head, giving him a soft smile.

“No, it was perfect. Thank you. I don’t have words to show you my gratitude.”

Everyone in the living room began counting down. The two of you continued to stare at each other, some unspoken connection beginning to brew. As everyone counted down the last ten seconds, Kageyama lifted his hand and cupped your cheek gently.

“Merry Christmas.”

At the stroke of midnight, everyone began to cheer. He gave you a soft smile before turning and joining everyone else. You turned to follow him with your eyes, watching as he approached Hinata and gave him a fist bump.

It was that moment that you realized your heart was pounding quickly in your chest.

***

Yachi’s coworker invited you all again for New Year. The theme for the party was the Great Gatsby, so you spent the days after Christmas with Yachi looking for the perfect dress. On New Year’s Eve, Daichi came to pick you two up. He was dressed very dapper, looking even more handsome than usual. The drive to the large home was fun as the three of you sang along to the Great Gatsby soundtrack.

Your friend group was waiting for you outside the door. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Kageyama, who was dressed all in white with his hair slicked back. His eyes immediately locked onto you as you stepped out of the car. You shyly looked away, grabbing Yachi’s arm and interlacing your fingers.

“Alright let’s say goodbye to this year!” Hinata whooped.

You all stepped in, the sound of a big band group playing echoing throughout the house. Everyone had dressed exceptionally for the theme and you smiled excitedly. You all grabbed drinks and made your way to the dance floor laughing.

At a quarter to midnight, you stepped away to get some air on the backyard patio. Various groups of couples were spread about, nuzzling into each other as they waited for their midnight kiss. Feeling lonely, you walked on until you found an isolated area. You sat on a bench and sighed, glancing up at the night sky.

“Hey. You okay?”

Jumping, you turned to see Kageyama standing next to you. You clutched your chest and let out a nervous laugh.

“I just needed some air, that’s all.”

He nodded, sitting next to you. Despite all the dancing he had done, his hair was still neatly pushed back, face glowing slightly from sweat.

“You look really beautiful tonight. I wanted to make sure I told you before midnight.”

You smiled softly at him.

“Thank you, Kageyama. You look very handsome tonight. Dapper, even.”

He chuckled, the deep, throaty sound sending heat straight to your core. Biting your lip, you looked away. A moment of silence followed your statement. You peered back up at the sky, eyes fixated on the stars.

“Tobio.”

Confused, you turned to look back at him.

“I want you to call me Tobio.”

Your throat went dry. You opened your mouth to speak but were interrupted by the sound of the big band group inside announcing there were three minutes left of the year. Standing, you turned to look back at Tobio. He had stood up the same moment you did, watching you with the coolness you had familiarized yourself with. He hesitated for a second before slowly walking over to you.

Tobio was now standing directly in front of you. You peered up at him, blinking slowly as you took in his features. In the soft starlight you admired his handsome, sharp features, from his defined nose to his slightly full lips. His normally blue eyes were almost completely black, as his pupils were dilated as you looked at you. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, causing heat to pool within you again.

The countdown had begun. The band had begun counting down from sixty, the sounds of everyone else joining in. Tobio reached for your hand, interlacing his fingers as he took another step closer. He leaned down, his free hand reaching up to hold your lower back. You gently placed your hands on his chest, biting your lips shyly. The countdown continued on until five seconds were left. Holding your breath, you waited to see what he would do at the start of the new year. The screams of Happy New Year rang out and he smiled softly at you before leaning in and kissing you. The kiss was much longer than the Christmas one and you felt yourself melt into him. Your hands clutched onto his shirt as you parted your lips, allowing his tongue to slip in. He tasted of mint and vodka, a combination that sent shivers down your spine. When you pulled away a few minutes later, your head was spinning and you were out of breath. The stars seemed to have been pulled from the sky and placed into his eyes, as they sparkled as he smiled down at you.

“Happy New Year.”

***

It seemed like everyone seemed to know something that you didn’t.

In the weeks that followed New Year, you noticed your friends looking at you with a certain look in their eyes. You first noticed it when you went to lunch with Daichi the Monday after. The two of you met for lunch once a week near both of your jobs. When the two of you sat down, he was looking at you like he knew some sort of secret.

“Why are you looking at me that way?” you asked, puzzled.

He jumped in his seat, giving you a nervous laugh as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“Looking at you like what?” he asked.

You frowned, rolling your eyes as you decided to let it go.

Slowly, you noticed everyone else doing the same. Asahi was even more skittish around you, something that made Nishinoya continuously scold him as you three jogged around the park. Tsuki seemed to be smirking more at you when the two of you ran errands together, and Kiyoko was even more quiet than usual when you went to get your nails done.

Towards the end of January, you decided to confront Yachi, who seemed slightly distant. She was sitting on the couch when you got home from work, flipping through a magazine while a rerun of a random sitcom played on the TV. Frowning, you walked over and sank onto the couch next to her.

“Are you hiding something from me?”

Yachi jumped, dropping the magazine on the floor. She turned to look at you, furiously shaking her head.

“N-no! Of course not!” she laughed nervously.

Narrowing your eyes, you leaned in closer to her face.

“Why do I feel like you and everyone else is hiding something from me? Everyone’s been acting so weird since New Year.”

You noticed Yachi nervously looking around before trying to give you a smile.

“YACHI!”

“Okay, fine!” she squeaked out.

Sucking in a breath, she gently reached for your hands and held them in her lap.

“Yamaguchi went to check on you when you stepped out on New Year’s Eve. He saw you and Kageyama . . . you know . . .”

Panic immediately rose into your chest and you jumped up from the couch, color leaving your face as you stared at her, wide eyed.

“He . . . he saw . . . Yama saw . . .”

“Everything.”

It suddenly clicked why everyone was looking at you like they had a secret. They knew your secret but didn’t want you to know. You slowly sank onto the couch again, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“We’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you. Suga finally decided to talk to you about it this weekend but . . . the cat’s out of the bag now.”

“Does Tobio know?” you asked, closing your eyes.

“Tobio?”

You opened your eyes to see Yachi’s mouth wide open.

“You’re on a first name basis now?!” she screeched.

Flushing, you tried to stutter out an excuse but just gave up. You threw your hands up in defeat.

“Yachi, if Yama saw us kissing I’m sure it’s assumed we’re on a first name basis!”

She squealed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I can’t believe this is happening! Look at you two, who would have thought?”

Groaning, you tried to get out of her hug.

“Can you not please? I’m still trying to figure out the situation. I haven’t seen him since that night.”

“Really?”

Yachi pulled back, frowning.

“Well . . . that makes sense,” she hummed. “It’s a new year, so he’s probably practicing a ton for the upcoming season.”

A slow grin crept onto her face.

“Look at you, crushing on your former nemesis. You’ve grown so much!”

Another groan left your lips as you stood up, announcing you needed a shower before stalking off. A slow grin spread on Yachi’s face as an idea crept into her mind.

***

Another week passed and you found yourself alone on a Saturday. Yachi and Hinata were going to some art exhibit downtown that he had gotten free tickets for. She had told you not to stay up for her and told you to enjoy your alone time. So now, here you were, scarfing down a burger on the couch while you rewatched Criminal Minds for the millionth time. The exhibit had begun in the late afternoon but the two had left early to grab some lunch. Swallowing a particularly big bite, you heard the sound of the door unlocking. Confused, you glanced down at your phone for the time.

“Yachi?” you called out with a full mouth. “You’re back early. Is everything okay?”

When you didn’t get a response, you turned around. You immediately froze. Kageyama was standing in the doorway, the same frozen look on his face as you appraised you. Embarrassment flooded your veins as you realized you were dressed in your ugliest home clothes, hair tied up into a terrible bun with ketchup all over your face. Clearing his throat, he quietly closed the door behind him and gave you a small nod.

“Er, Yachi asked me to come check if she left something here. She’s out with Hinata but doesn't want to come back.”

You nodded furiously and whipped your head back to the TV, cheeks bright red. Tobio slipped off his shoes and padded off down the hallway. Sucking in a deep breath, you tried your hardest to focus on Dr. Spencer Reid’s analysis but failed, knowing that the man you had been dying to see was now in your house with you.

Alone.

A few minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned. You gave a hesitant look down the hallway and called his name.

“Are you alright?”

Another few minutes passed before he came back in, his expression completely unreadable as he shuffled past you awkwardly. He stopped near the doorway, seeming to hesitate to leave. A part of you wanted him to stay but you didn’t want to come off as a bother. Biting your lip, you decided to bite the bullet and had just opened your mouth to ask when he spoke first.

“Do you want some company?”

You nodded, scooting over to give him some room on the couch. Quickly cleaning up your mess, you scooped up the take out bag and dashed to the kitchen to toss it out. When you returned, Tobio seemed much more comfortable, one hand wrapped around the back of the couch. You sat on the opposite side of the couch and tried to pretend you weren’t insanely nervous.

Criminal Minds continued on, with the BAU finding their Unsub and trying to save the latest victim in time. While you watched on, you hadn’t realized that Tobio had been subtly scooting closer to you. By the time the episode ended, you felt a warm hand on your shoulder. Confused, you looked over at Tobio to see him, cheeks flushed as he pulled you flush against his side. The next episode started and you allowed yourself to relax against him.

It was hard to focus now. Since you had watched the episode before, your mind kept hyperfixating on Tobio’s warmth and his hand holding your shoulder tightly. You tucked your feet underneath you and leaned more into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Halfway through the episode, you kept feeling Tobio squirming next to you. Frowning, you turned to look at him.

“Are you okay? Is this too squeamish for you -”

Your teasing was cut short by him pressing his lips harshly on yours. Surprised, it took you a second to react but you quickly returned the kiss, letting one hand tangle in his soft hair. The kiss quickly became heated and the two of you pulled apart.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called you,” he panted, cheeks flushed.

“N-no! It’s fine, you’ve been busy with practice,” you assured him.

“I really like you,” he blurted out. “I have for a long time.”

Your eyes widened. Kageyama Tobio was confessing to you!

“I’m just really shitty with expressing my feelings. The first day I met you, I was extremely attracted to you. But I didn’t know what to do with what I was feeling so I shut down and, well . . . I was an asshole.”

The color from his cheeks faded and he studied you with an intense gaze. You knew he wanted a response so you decided to show him with your actions. You kissed him again, throwing your arms around his neck to bring him closer to your body.

“I like you too. Shut up and kiss me.”

He grinned, and you realized it was the first time you had genuinely seen him smile. He leaned in again and kissed you, working quickly to push his tongue into your mouth. You were slowly starting to get turned on and decided to be bold by biting down on his bottom lip. He gave a sharp exhale and you thrust your tongue into his mouth.

One of his hands moved from the couch to begin trailing down your back, sending goosebumps down your spine. You arched into his touch, letting out a quiet moan before sighing in pleasure. He pulled you onto his lap and you clumsily settled into it. The two of you paused for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes as the severity of the moment hit you both.

“Are we really doing this right now?” you whispered.

“I guess we are,” Tobio breathed out.

He leaned in, pressing his lips softly against your neck. Biting down, he began leaving marks along the expanse of it. You pulled him even closer to you, closing your eyes to relish in the feeling of his lips on you. Suddenly, you were being lifted up and your eyes flew open.

“Fuck this, I need a bed,” he growled out.

He began walking down the hallway, the voices of Garcia and Morgan flirting fading away as you entered your room. He dropped you on the bed, grabbing the hem of his shirt to throw it over his head. You were entranced by the sight of his toned, athletic body, your eyes grazing over him until they lowered and reached the waistband of his sweats.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, smirking.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed him by the hips and pulled him to you.

“Shut up and get over here.”

Chuckling, he complied and crawled on the bed towards you. Reaching for your sweats, he began swiftly untying them before slowly pulling them down your legs. His eyes zeroed in on your core, his tongue swiping out to lick his lips. You shivered from the anticipation.

“Can I confess something to you?” Tobio asked, pausing in his movement.

“Um, sure?”

“Er, Yachi sent me to her room to find that ‘thing’ but I found . . . these instead.”

He reached into his sweats pockets and pulled out a roll of condoms. You choked on your spit, eyes going wide as you felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“You’re joking,” you deadpanned.

“She must have planned this from the start. I knew the entire crew was acting weird,” he frowned.

“Yeah, I confronted her about it. It was . . . awkward.”

A moment of silence fell over you two. Trying to reignite the passion, you grabbed the roll from his hand and ripped one out, waving it in front of his face.

“Might as well put this to use, no?” you grinned.

He snatched it from your hand, placing it on the bed as he began to fumble with his own sweats. Giggling, you pulled your shirt over your head, watching as he threw the sweats over his shoulder and hooked his fingers into the waistband of his underwear.

“We can stop now,” he offered quietly.

You shook your head.

“I’ve been wanting this for a while. You can keep going. Please.”

With that, he slowly began pulling them down. His cock sprang out, slapping against his lower stomach. Given a man of Tobio’s stature, you figured he would be packing slightly, and you were definitely not disappointed. Biting your lip, you sat up to unclasp your bra and peeled your panties off.

Now fully naked, you took a minute to admire each other’s forms before Tobio reached for the condom and opened it. He rolled in onto himself, giving a low grunt as he stroked himself a few times.

“Are you sure?” he offered again, eyes watching you softly.

You nodded, laying back and spreading your legs for him. His eyes got wide and he kneeled down, aligning himself before sucking in a breath and pushing in slowly. The familiar feeling of being stretched had you already curling your toes, eyes fluttering shut as you savored him inside of you. He let out a low groan, stopping as he bottomed out before pulling out and snapping his hips against yours. You let out a sharp breath, hands clawing at the sheets as he continued to thrust into you. The sheets rustled around you and you felt his warm hands grab onto yours, interlacing your fingers as he began to pick up the pace. He lowered his face towards you, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck before following the trail with his tongue.

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock,” he panted out.

His words had you moaning loudly and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You tried to match your hips to his rhythm, trying to chase the feeling of pleasure as your orgasm began to form in the pit of your stomach. Tobio seemed to be close, his fingers squeezing yours tightly as his hips lost their tempo.

“I’m s-so close,” you whimpered.

“Then cum for me. Fuck, cum for me on my cock, baby.”

It took his words plus an extra sharp thrust to release the coil forming in you, seeing white behind your closed eyes. You moaned out his name incoherently, tightening around him as he pumped into you before finishing too, groaning your name as he came into the condom.

The both of you were panting, trying to catch your breath. Your legs were still wrapped around him, legs sore from how tight you were holding him to you. He pulled out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss of sensation. Sliding off the bed, he removed the condom and padded over to the bathroom.

You were half asleep when he returned, grabbing a blanket to drape it over the both of you.

“Um, sorry I finished so fast. It’s been a while and, well . . . I was kind of holding out for this.”

You giggled, reaching up to run your fingers through his soft hair.

“It’s okay. We’ll have plenty of time to try again.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio imagine #kageyama tobio x reader #enemies to friends to lovers #eventual smut #most of the haikyuu peeps are here

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yoooespinosa · 3 years

Note

please do a part 2 for the draco fic where he rejects her i cant be left like that also would love for them to end up together

a/n: I feel like its rushed, idk. I didn't even like how the first part came out, so I had no motivation for this one. Im sorry, I tried lmao.

here’s part 1

"Y/l/n!" A voice just a few ways down the corridor called, the person you've been trying to avoid.

You increased your pace, dodging the people around you and their swinging bags they carried. You knew he called you out in the middle of a crowded corridor because it would be harder for you to get away, which only multiplied your irritation.

"Y/l/n!" He called louder, sounding closer, only making you walk away faster.

"Y/n." He latched onto your wrist, once you escaped the crowd of students, you groaned in frustration.

"What, Malfoy?" Turning to him and yanking your arm free.

He looked taken aback that you actually acknowledged him, unlike the incidents before. He sputtered, you almost laughed in his face-- because, Draco Malfoy, sputtering? You've never seen that before.

"If you're just going to gawk at me like a weirdo," Already turning away. "then I think I'll take my leave."

"No!" He said a little too loudly. Lower this time "No, look, can we talk."

You pursed your lips, masking your face with the indifference that he normally carried himself with. "We don't have anything to talk about."

Once again, you turned away, managing to get four steps in this time.

“Look, can i just-“ He cuts himself off when your steps don’t falter. “Y/n, please.”

You immediately pause mid-step. He sounded, desperate. You let out a silent sigh, slowly turning to face him, his eyes were burning into yours once you met them.

You stare at him until he casts his eyes downcast. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles.

“What?” Your eyebrows furrow, surely he doesn’t expect you to accept that pitiful apology. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” He snaps at you, meeting your gaze once again.

You raise you eyebrow at him, unamused.

“I’m sorry.” Once again, more sincere this time.

Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to forgive him, not right now at least. You didn’t care if it took a lot in him to pack up the courage and apologize, you refuse to let Draco Malfoy walk all over you again. He’ll have to earn your forgiveness.

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, his cheeks flush and once again looks away from you.

“I bet you are.” A mumbled response as you walk away from him, just like you walked away from him on the night of his rejection, yet this time you didn’t carry the burden of a broken heart.

Lotus flowers. He somehow got you a bouquet of lotus flowers, your favorite. You’re not sure how he even managed to do that, with such flowers, but he did.

You couldn’t deny the way your heart fluttered when you looked up and met his grey eyes, shining with hopefulness, a few ways down the slytherin table in the great hall.

You hadn’t talked to him in a few days and he hadn’t seeked you out, a part of you was a little disappointed, but now that feeling disintegrated.

You actually haven’t talked to the three other slytherins sitting around him either. They apologized too and you reluctantly accepted, but still chose to surround yourself with other people, people who wouldn’t laugh at you behind your back.

“He’s really trying, isn’t he?” Tracey Davis chuckled softly from her place next you, gazing at the beautiful flowers you held in your hand.

“I guess.” You mumble, pursing your lips in thought.

“Well, are you going to forgive him or carry it out a little longer?” Milicent asks, with a smirk adorning her face, you already knew which choice she’d prefer.

You smirk back at her before swiftly casting an incendio to the beautiful flowers, you only regretted it a little, but it was all worth it once you saw the look on his face.

His mask crumbled. Good, i’ll incendio his flowers like he did my heart, you thought bitterly.

The next advance he made was when you were next to your favorite window, in the abandoned corridor. The sun was close to setting, making a beautiful orange tint cast across the corridor.

You heard footsteps, each once coming closer to you and you immediately knew it was him. You had felt him staring at you all day, each one getting harder to ignore. Especially the ones that were burning through your skull when you were around Harry.

But you never gave him the satisfaction of meeting his eye. You completely ignored him, as if he wasn’t there, as if you he was easily dismissible.

“Y/n.” He calls your name once he reached you, voice obviously trying to seem casual.

A noncommittal hum was your response, not bothering to look up from the book you had on your lap, still casually leaning against the wall, basking in the orange rays that hit you.

“Y/n.” His voice was softer this time, softer than you’ve ever heard before, making your head snap to his automatically.

In his arms were a bunch of your favorite sweets, you weren’t sure how he knew which you preferred. You raise your eyebrow in question.

“I know how you like to snack.” He mumbles, laying down the foods next to you, he rambles on. “I know you usually like to watch the sun go down by the black lake, but since it’s colder out i knew you’d be here. You were always the type that liked to snack a lot— i already said that, sorry...i brought your favorites.” He looked at you sheepishly.

You never seen him look so... shy. You were stumped, didn’t even know what to say. You just stared at the food next to you for a minute.

“Thanks,” You say slowly, still trying to process. “How did you know these were my favorites?”

He shrugged, half-heartedly. “I paid attention.”

You scoffed, that same bitter feeling washing over you for a second. “Honestly Malfoy, these attempts at getting at me are getting more pathetic each time.” You reused his words.

Regretting it immediately, when he flinched. Looking pained by it. You wanted to enjoy his pain, but nothing about it satisfied you, not anymore it seemed, not when he’s so clearly trying.

He gave you a washed-out smile, “I hope you enjoy them.” Then walked away, you listened till you could no longer hear his footsteps.

You were walking side by side with Harry, desperately trying to listen to the story he was telling you. His hands were whisking in the air, adding dramatics, and every so often he’d have to push his glasses up. You would usually find this amusing, but you were distracted.

Draco had been doing nice things for you all week. You were trying hard to hold this grudge you built, but with you each soft smile and saddened eyes he sent your way, your resolved crumbled.

The butterflies hesitantly coming out their cage.

And he did seem sorry, truly he did, you were so close to forgiving him. You don’t know what was holding you back anymore.

You met his eyes from across the corridor, his eyes softening once meeting yours, then hardening a second later when seeing who was next to you. Yet, he kept his path to you.

“May i talk to you?” He asked softly, not acknowledging Harry, who stopped his animated story.

You looked at the green eyed boy next to you, he took the hint and turned down the opposite corridor. “Yeah, sure.”

That familiar streak of hope flashes through his eyes as he led you down to the gardens to the bench that you loved to occupy.

“I wanted to say i’m sorry, again.” He said once you both were seated, your knees knocked against his when he turned his body towards you.

You nodded, signaling him to go on.

“It was wrong for me to treat you like that, to say those things.” He took a deep breath. “I was stupid, i took advantage of the best thing that ever happened to me. You were always so good to me, treating me with kindness that i didn’t deserve. Will never deserve.”

“Dra-“ He cut you off gently.

“No, just let me get this out first.” He placed his hand over yours timidly, when you didn’t pull away, he interlocked his fingers with yours. “You did things for me that no one else has ever done. I was flattered at first, when i first realized you liked me, i didn’t think you could ever like me. You’ve always been so beautiful, i never thought i would have a chance. But then i find out you liked me. I got the prettiest girl in Hogwarts to like me.” He shook his head, letting out a humorless laugh.

He continued on, “It got to my head obviously, i thought maybe if i shown my interest, you’d realize that i wasn’t as great as you thought me to be. It was so dumb of me, to act like i didn’t like you, i actually got myself to believe i didn’t.”

He moved closer to you, “I understand if you don’t forgive me, i don’t deserve it honestly. Fuck, i wouldn’t even forgive me. But, i would regret it if i didn’t at least try.”

He brought your interlocked hands closer to him, kissing the back of your hand, “So this is me, putting my heart out there, either for you to break or hold in your hands. Please forgive me and give me another chance, that i don’t deserve?”

You didn’t even know your eyes were tearing up until one slid down your cheek, before you could wipe it away, his thumb came up and did it for you.

You didn’t answer, you just placed your lips on his. Caressing his lips with your own, feverishly. Pouring out every emotion into him. He kissed you back with just the same passion. Bringing his hands to your face, caressing his thumbs on your flushing cheeks, tilting your head back as he controlled your lips. Bringing the kiss to a softer pace. Your hands played with the hair on his nape, until he pulled back.

“So, was that a yes?” He breathed a laugh, you could still see the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yes, of course, you idiot.”

“Yeah?” He was smiling ear to ear.

“Yeah,” You kissed him breathless once more, then pulling back. “but first you have to get me another one of those bouquets.”

“Anything.” He states softly, placing his lips back on yours, as if he’s done it for years.

#draco angst #draco fanfiction #draco imagine #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy x reader #draco one shot #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x slytherin!reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #lexi’s fics ◡̈

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lovenona · 3 years

Text

ON THE SACRED BONDS OF BROTHERHOOD.

synopsis; choso may be their beloved frat brother, but he’ll always be your brother first. (for the frat au collab.)

pairing; frat boy! choso x f! reader

contains; stepcest, dubcon (reader is under the influence but having a good time), extensive descriptions of knife play and blood play, marking (choso carves his name into you), oral (f! receiving), borderline yandere/possessive choso (he loves you A Lot), choso goes from mean to Soft, consumption and romanticization of drugs and alcohol, (1) use of ‘angel’, reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns, this is essentially all foreplay and ends before the fucking because i got tired, minors do not interact or perish

word count; 6.5k

the yard outside is clean, well-kept. there’s talk that the house’s landlord is a retired gardener who receives great joy from keeping up the hydrangeas and peonies along the sidewalk. it’s certainly award-winning, that front yard, with its colorful blossoms and plush bees circling the mailbox.

they’re so lucky, students bemoan on their way to and from class. i can’t believe the frat boys get to live there. i bet they don’t even know how lucky they are.

it’s a seemingly kind house from the outside – recently renovated with navy blue paint and white trimming, a large front porch and a few inviting windows. the place that omega lambda now calls home is, simply put, a dream. it sits just a few minutes from campus and it tells the street proudly, fondly, that there is no better place to be than here.

it’s true, in some respects, that omega lambda likes to see themselves as above the sweat and grime of their fellow frat brothers. they don’t spend their weekends “fucking and drinking” and tracking dirt across the carpet like animals. their fun is calm, refined: to be invited to a night with omega lambda means a night of smoke curling into the air, of gossip over olive-colored couches, of pills under tongues, of ease and relaxation.

it’s slower than the others, they say in the back of monday morning lectures, but no less extreme, no matter what those boys try and tell you.

i think i was tripping for days, the girl from psychology 101 boasted. whatever the fuck yuuji gets is strong.

such stories amaze you: and even as you stand on the sidewalk outside the perfect blue house, petunias curling inward with the evening breeze, you cannot believe they are real. it’s hard to imagine the face of your beloved stepbrother tied to these antics. it’s hard to imagine that the boy who used to come home every winter and summer with bloodshot eyes and a beat-up skateboard also swore a loyal, unbreakable oath of brotherhood to a band of boys you’ve never met.

it’s hard to imagine that your own stepbrother, choso, the one who taught you how to ride a bike and how to apply eyeliner and how to kiss without teeth, quite literally runs what has been dubbed the chillest fraternity on campus.

but yet, here you are, new to university, fresh-faced and eager, cowering outside the door of the omega lambda residence. your favorite skirt hovers around your thighs and you tug at the collar of your shirt, fiddle with the charm of the necklace choso gave you for your birthday a few years ago.

he’d invited you here almost immediately after learning that you and your roommate had tried your hand at partying with beta pi epsilon. naoya is trash, choso’s fervent texts read the next morning. absolute dick – don’t trust him. come hang out with us instead. he’d attached the address of the blue house along with a reminder to have a snack and take some medicine for your godforsaken hangover.

the message had taken you a little by surprise. choso’s always been sweet to you – doting, even, if you wanted a better word for it – but you hadn’t been sure how he’d handle attending the same university. your other friends all complain that they’d rather die than see their families; twins separate after orientation, brothers and sisters look the other way if they pass each other in the quad. you feared choso would be the same, that the omnipotent attention he gave you at home would completely dissipate the moment you moved into your dorm.

but his text reaffirms you, if anything. and although your roommate had opted to be wined and dined by the boy from calculus this evening, you don’t mind attending alone. her absence from your side only means you will be able to see your stepbrother without a distraction.

the music buzzes through the door as you knock and wring your fingers on the doorstep. should you just walk in? should you text choso and wait for him to fetch you? the ins-and-outs of frat etiquette cloud your mind until the door swings open and you’re met, face-to-face, with a young pink-haired man dangling a blunt from one hand and his phone, opened to his spotify playlist, from the other.

“hi,” you say, words foreign in your throat. “choso invited me?”

“oh, cool,” itadori yuuji says, shrugging his shoulders like he never would have questioned it. “come on in. you can put your shoes over there.”

while omega lambda is not packed from wall to wall as your night at beta pi epsilon had been, the various couches propped against the walls and surrounding the living room coffee table are nearly packed to the brim with the frat brothers and their guests. the air, hazy with smoke and desire and drinking, shifts and swirls as it curls around purple LED lights before fogging up the windows and disappearing up the stairs. it is warm here, easy, like dropping into the depths of a pleasurable dream.

“there’s drinks in the kitchen,” yuuji is saying, voice thick with his high, “and we’ve got some other stuff on the table, although you’ll have to pay yuuta for those–”

yuuji’s narration is cut off as a familiar figure crashes into yours, sweeping you into a hug so tight you fear your bones will snap from the pressure. choso smells like the cologne you bought him for his birthday, like fresh laundry and comfort; you breathe him in, deeply, and let yourself relax into the soft cotton of his black t-shirt.

“glad you could make it,” choso mumbles into your skin. he draws back slightly, drinks you in, your little skirt and your dainty socks that he’s always been partial to. he looks from you to yuuji, still vibing to the side with his playlist, and his eyes crinkle in what must be mirth.

“it’s good to see you,” you say.

“you saw me at lunch with mom last week.” choso smiles, the black line across his nose crinkling when his eyes light up.

“you get what i mean.” you tap his shoulder, lightly, as emphasis. the anxiety dissolves; it’s you, and him, like it’s always been. it’s your stepbrother choso who watches your shadow and wraps you up to keep the rest of the world at bay.

but the tender moment is broken when someone, a tall blonde girl with the aura of a lioness, calls out to choso to ask him for assistance. he looks at you, a bit forlorn, before telling yuuji to help you get settled in and making his way to the other end of the living room.

“yes, this way!” yuuji grabs your arm and drags you across the floor like you’ve known each other forever. “i make some fucking good drinks if i do say so myself.”

which, consequently enough, is how you find yourself losing your mind within the walls of omega lambda.

it’s not that you’re a virgin to the world of cocktails and lime and pills: it’s that you’re too sweet to know when to stop. it’s hard to tell yuuji no more, thanks when his face is so bright, when he and the strange, blue-haired frat brother mahito are asking you to try this and try that and to let us know what you think.

so you let yourself sway through the house, from couch to couch, listening to this mahito boy tell you about his latest philosophy courses as he dances cold fingers across your shoulders, listening to yuuji explain the very serious business of pulling an all-nighter without coffee, watching the LED lights shift from purple to blue and back again.

(you’re not sure where choso is. perhaps, in your altered state, he’s sitting just across from you and you don’t even know it. but you don’t mind, because his brothers get along with you just as well. you don’t mind, because you’re too drunk or too high to know any better.)

“and how are you doing?” a dark-haired man slides into the empty couch space next to you. arms littered with various tattoos and dark hair pulled back into a casual half-bun, he could have been your beloved choso had he not exuded such finesse, such arrogance, which choso could never be capable of doing.

“i’m alright,” you say, but you’re more than alright. the room is so warm and your brain is so fuzzy that you might melt into the couch if someone looked away for even a minute. “i don’t think we’ve met before? i’m choso’s stepsister.”

he simpers, a humid thing, one that coils around your eyelids and sets your insides alight. “ah! i’ve heard a lot about you. it’s nice to meet you.” he holds out a manicured hand; black nail polish glimmers in the dim light. “geto. i’m one of choso’s frat brothers.”

his handshake might take your soul with it. his hands are smooth, refined. you swear he can feel your quickening pulse as you introduce yourself. he watches you like you might be the only person in the room, like you might be the sweetest thing to have ever crossed the threshold. and filled with rum and liqueur and confidence you take it, gladly, because you’re young and the thought of university still puts stars in your eyes.

“so what are you studying?” geto is saying, prying you apart, picking through your history. he’s in his final year and you’re in your first and he knows all there is to know while you still have nothing. you latch onto him because he gets it, because he’s handsome, because you’re silly and desperate and drunk. somewhere along the way your thighs touch and his hand greets your shoulder and you think that you finally made it into his lap because mahito complained that the couch was too full.

geto smells like expensive cologne. you smell vaguely of lemons and shampoo. yuuji jokes with you from across the table and you like it, the way these brothers’ eyes fall on you.

so you spiral, further and further, into a daze you cannot escape from. you barely react to geto’s firm hand snaking up your bare thigh because you are too busy trying yuuji’s latest creation and asking mahito for more of whatever he gave you. it’s fun, it’s weightless; you feel beautiful, supreme, like the kind of college girl you’re supposed to be. you’re desirable, cute. you’re the girl to be in love with, the one who sets the scene.

those rumors were right. the party is certainly slower than the other frats you’ve visited, with more emphasis on sitting and vibing than on dancing and drinking games, but no less extreme. you’re so far out of your brain that you wonder briefly if it will ever be possible to come back down. maybe you’ll be her, on monday morning, the girl who’s still tripping.

“you know,” geto is saying, his breath eerily close to your pulse, a moment away from pressing a kiss to your cheek, your neck, “you should stop by more often.”

“yeah?” you hope you sound sexier than you are. “i’d love to–”

“excuse me,” choso’s voice cuts through your lazy fantasy like the sharp fall of a guillotine. “i’d prefer if you didn’t hit on my sister, geto.”

geto’s laugh reverberates against your back, your ears. his grip on you lightens immediately, and whatever words he’d saved for you die away. “i’m not,” he says, but his voice is too easy to be honest. “just keeping her company. right, sweetheart?”

you’re finding it hard to see straight. caught in this game of cat and mouse you find you can do nothing but sit lamely in geto’s lap and watch choso’s favorite necklace reflect the purple light. it’s only after a revolution around the sun you realize you haven’t spoken, that you’ve done nothing but hover, a lot of drunk and a little high and a little nervous, between one man and the other. you mumble a yes in affirmation but it’s clear from the tension that choso doesn’t believe it.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” choso sighs. “come on, then. you’ve had enough for one night.” familiar arms lift you off the couch and you stumble, much like a baby gazelle, into the safety of choso’s chest. the room spins with the sudden change; you cling to him like a lifeline as you abandon the party to head upstairs.

of course, bedazzled out of your mind, you do not question when choso leads you to the end of the hallway and over the threshold of his bedroom. it feels expected in a way, safe, as if the party had always been meaning to end here. as if there was no other place you should be.

“so?” choso asks, casually, shutting the door behind him with a damning click. “did you enjoy being a little whore with my brothers?”

his words take a long moment to settle in your ears. you’re caught in the swirl of euphoria in your brain, the black t-shirts scattered across the floor, the small houseplant you once bought him seated on the windowsill. it warms your heart to see it there, after all this time.

“well?” choso demands your attention. he takes your jaw in his hand and lifts your eyes to meet his gaze. his silver rings, imposing and cool on slender fingers, burn into your heated flesh like embers. his eyes swim with distaste and you know it’s your fault, somehow, but when the walls tilt and your rationality fogs over, you can’t quite pinpoint why.

“i–” your words catch in your throat. it’s clear, from the darkness in his eyes, from the way his nails dig into the soft flesh of your jawline, that anything you say to defend yourself will be futile. it’s choso’s world, you’ve always known, and even now, you’re merely living in it.

“i invite my sister to see me, because i miss her,” choso’s words nestle themselves deep into your bloodstream, settling amongst the brandy and wine, “and she chooses to spend the night bending over for my brothers. how do you think that makes me feel?”

it’s a look you know: a look that has haunted you for hours and days, a look that you know better than any other. it’s the look that guides the hand between your legs at night and the look you recreate in your mind’s eye when your vibrator just isn’t enough. you’re crumbling already, like sand beneath his touch.

“i’m sorry,” you say to him, but the words are soft and whispered things, shy beneath the weight of your own guilt and disappointment. “i didn’t mean to–”

“no,” choso admonishes. he steps closer, guiding you backwards until his bedsheets brush the backs of your knees. “of course you didn’t. you’re still too dumb to know what you’re doing.” his voice, evenly condescending, hardly matches the gentle brush of his fingers as he moves to cup your cheeks. you close your eyes against it, savoring the shivers he sends across you body with every heartbeat, every movement. “still need your big brother to keep you in check.”

you do not respond: he does not intend for you too. instead choso presses you back until you fall onto his bed, crawling over you to cage your body beneath him like a predator and its prey. your brain falters with the sudden movement, with the lateness of the hour and the depravity of your position, but you can do nothing but look at him with your helpless doe-eyes while something saccharine pools in your belly.

“look at you,” choso says. “high out of your damn mind. good thing i caught you when i did. who knows what would have happened.”

you believe him, you do, especially when choso dips his head to kiss you and demands your subservience. his tongue licks the aftermath of your cocktails from your lips and claims the expanse of your mouth, your teeth, your sanity. you let him take you, body and soul, even when you’re clamoring for air and freedom. there is no safety but choso’s lips, flavored with his cinnamon chapstick, no sacred home but the warmth of his mouth.

“there’s my girl,” choso breathes, nose brushing against yours as he pulls back for air. “going to be good for me now? going to make it up to your big brother?”

he doesn’t wait for a response; fingers dance along the silk of your blouse as he undoes each button, one by one, letting his fingers dip slyly against the newly exposed expanse of your collarbone and your chest and your stomach. you make no move to stop him, caught somewhere between choso’s aura and reality and time.

(and maybe in another life you would have stopped him. maybe in another life you would have been ashamed. but it’s choso, your sworn protector and god among men, and you would be a fool to try and stop the one who knows best. he is safety, protection. who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t taken you away when he did.)

“is this new?” choso asks, studying the curve of your bra as he rests against your hips. “who are you trying to impress?”

it’s thin lavender lace, choso’s favorite. your face warms at the observation and you turn your head away, nestling among the sheets, as if you could escape choso’s eyes: but his fingers still trace the material and you can still hear him breathing and you know he will never look away.

“i just got it,” you answer, humbled and mildly humiliated and certainly a little fucked up. the words are slow and imprecise as you stumble over your own tongue. “i wanted to…treat myself.”

choso’s exploratory hands move from your bra to the waistband of your skirt. “could’ve just asked me,” he says earnestly, intently. “i would’ve gotten it for you.”

your affirmative hum is lost when choso mindfully pulls your skirt down your legs and discards it somewhere in the shadows of the room. he says nothing of it, of the thin fabric or the way it flattered you just right. perhaps he is jealous of it. perhaps he does not want to remember the way his brothers looked at you when you wore it, the way geto’s hands caressed the places no other man should go.

“they match, i see,” choso gestures towards your underwear. terrified and knowing and aware that you’re growing damper with each passing minute, you press your thighs together. “they’re cute.”

“t-thank you,” you whisper. “i… i got them for you. your favorite color.”

he smiles, a precious and glorious thing, a smile that causes flowers to grow and birds to sing. you electrify at the sight of it, blissful only when he is.

“i’d hope so,” choso says, “because i don’t think i could take it if this was meant for someone else.”

he reaches over to the nightstand while his words claw through you. choso smells like cinnamon and safety and pleasure; your heartbeat quickens as his t-shirt brushes against you, as your world collapses into nothing but choso’s profile, his butterfly hair-clips and his glowing skin and his power.

when choso settles back over you, resting against your thighs until you think you might die of it, something silver and shiny rests in his palm. you’d recognize it even if your eyes were closed, if the room were so dark that you couldn’t see if you tried. a searing and insatiable sensation lodges itself in your veins; it is fear personified, it is anticipation of a behavior you cannot even name.

choso twirls his beloved switchblade deftly between his well-manicured fingertips. it reflects the low-light of the room. it calls out to you, the beautiful and dangerous thing, a siren’s song that promises both your misery and your fortune. choso’s face is relaxed, serene, as the envy and the fury seemingly melts away from him and leaves only a disinterested vessel behind.

he lets you study it, lets you study him, and you know he’s pleased when he can feel your thighs tense, when you try so damn hard not to let choso know just how affected you really are. he shifts, grinding gently against your pelvis as he moves, causing you to bite your lip in a desperate attempt to surpress the gentlest of moans.

“well,” choso says, disregarding the state he’s slowly working you into. he shifts down your body and runs a lackluster hand across the lacy expanse of your underwear. shivers pierce your navel, silver rings poison your skin. it’s all you can do to watch him, his heartless eyes and his casual form, as his thumb prods at the place where you underwear crosses your hip. “let’s get these off. i’d hate to have anyone else see you in them.”

you feel the blade before you see it. cold, unfriendly, it rests against the gentle skin of your hip, a killer ready to take a life. a humiliatingly choked whine is out of your mouth before you can swallow it; your gasp reverberates throughout the room, the sound of one who knows they’ve lost a fight.

“choso–” you breathe, but you don’t know quite what it is you’re asking him for.

he doesn’t answer immediately, opting instead to tease you further with the blade as he presses it against you until goosebumps rise in chorus. your fingers curl in on themselves, desperate for purchase, while fear and longing hum everywhere in your being.

“don’t worry,” choso says. “i’ll buy you more. now be good and stay still.”

you want to writhe, to lash out and squirm beneath the intensity of the moment, but you fear choso’s disappointment more than you crave such release. your big brother choso has never been afraid to hurt you: to pierce the skin where it hurts, to draw blood where he means it. if you move, the blade will move with you. you know this as you know every scar choso has left behind.

it’s agonizing, this pace. choso’s tongue peeks out from between his teeth as he works with the ease of a great master. it’s like watching paint dry, like waiting for grass to grow or continents to shift. he cuts away at the expensive lingerie you bought just last weekend like he has all the time in the world, like he does not care if the sun rises and you are still crying beneath him.

(and he does it, you know, because you’ve never been one to be patient.)

“choso,” you whine, drawing his name out, long and frustrated, as if in song. “go faster.” your legs twitch in protest and the blade comes ever closer.

“no.” choso does not even spare the kindness to look at you, his beloved little sister. “stop whining.”

the rest of your complaints lodge in your throat. you fear disobeying him, so you grip the comforter like a lifeline, exasperated tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as the blade cuts through your clothes and ghosts across the bare skin beneath. it’s embarrassing, really, the way you can feel yourself becoming more and more desperate the further choso drifts away from you, the more he refuses to indulge.

you wonder if he can sense the arousal on you, feel it, smell it, even, like you’re nothing but his own little plaything in heat.

after an eternity, the blade finally cuts through your panties with a satisfying rip. the torn fabric sits pitifully against your hips, a reminder of your own subservience, until choso peels it away from you with enough condescension to move you to tears. the cool air of the room hits your thighs, your cunt, like a ghost who’s taken up residence beside you.

blissfully unaware of your feelings, choso studies the remains of your ruined underwear, the thin fabric and the obvious stain of your arousal. locking eyes with you, he bring it to his nose for a brief and pleasurable inhale before he discards it somewhere on the other side of the room.

“there we are,” he says, as if he hadn’t just smelled yourself in front of you. “now no one will ever know about it but me.”

“choso,” you whimper, hot. it’s a gift and a humiliation to be beneath him like this, to shake with need and yet to be denied it, to ask for something, for anything, in a voice so unabashedly loud that anyone who passes by the door might hear it.

he ignores you, again, and turns his attention to your bra as it flutters against your fervent chest. you watch with wide eyes as the blade comes closer, closer, dancing against your ribcage and sending ice into your lungs until it slices through the front of your bra, down the center of your chest, like the thin fabric was made of nothing but water.

“get rid of this,” he says; you listen. with quick and quivering fingertips you shimmy your way out of the delicate material and toss it over the side of the bed faster than the speed of sound. choso, pleased with your obedience, intently traces the curve of your breasts, thumbing your nipples until you find yourself arching into his touch.

(choso, you mumble, eyes falling shut at the feeling. still, as always, he does not listen. he draws his hands away.)

it kills you, the way choso’s eyes possess you, own you, dictate the movement in your bloodstream. it’s akin to being pulled along on marionette strings, a puppet of choso’s own design, made to dance for him and him alone.

it’s the prize he deserves, your big brother, to own you and protect you, body and soul.

it’s that very intensity which moves you to misty tears, which causes your hands to fly out to meet him against your better judgement. choso lets you pleasure yourself for a moment with the texture of his t-shirt and the outline of his shoulders before brushing your hands away like unnecessary flies.

“did you whore yourself out like this when you went to naoya’s?” choso prods. the patronization lies beneath feigned and genuine curiosity. there are no inflections, no signs of anger. this is how your big brother gets you, every time: it’s the neglect, the disinterest, that breeds your guilt. “are you really so easy for every boy that comes your way?”

you shake your head and wish you could bury yourself further into the bedsheets. no, never. try as you might the first-year college boys here just haven’t been enough, the older ones too preoccupied with better cunts to look your way.

“just because those guys are my brothers,” choso continues, shifting further and further down your body, spreading your legs until he can fit himself comfortably between them, “doesn’t mean i have to share everything with them.”

“i’m sorry, choso,” you try again, “i’m sorry. i don’t want anyone else–”

“that’s right,” choso interrupts. “you don’t need anyone else. no one is ever going to love you the way i do.”

the way your big brother does, his eyes say, but he doesn’t have to voice it. you already know. it’s true that no one knows you better than choso does. no one understands your limits and your desires the way your brother has for as long as you’ve known him. no one knows how to caress you when you cry, how to run their tongue across your lips to silence you when you’re too eager. it’s always choso. it’s always been choso; but sometimes you’re just too much of a fool to see it.

the blade, cool and demanding, presses against the soft flesh of your thigh, just below the hip. you twitch in surprise at the sensation and curl your toes to quell the ache in your cunt. it’s slick, weeping; you can feel it, the arousal, as it pools and pools and drips quietly onto the comforter.

“choso, what are you–” you ask, breathily, pitifully, but choso’s quick glare reduces you into obedient silence.

he licks the cinnamon chapstick on his lips. a stray hair falls across his eyes and kisses the dark line across his nose. he is love and danger, a cocktail of possession and surrender. “i think,” choso says, the words slow and thoughtful, “you need a reminder of who loves you the most.”

a strangled cry escapes your lips when the blade pierces your skin just enough to draw blood. the sting travels up through your spine and fogs up your senses, causes your cunt to weep in horrible anticipation. it hurts, it does, the first cut, but still you find yourself waiting for more of it, more, in terror and lust and love.

“choso–” you cry, a misty tear escaping out of the corner of your eye, but the call is met by another stroke, longer this time, drawn out, until your knuckles clutch the bedsheets so tensely they might as well turn to stone.

“stay still,” choso admonishes amidst the burn of it. “you’ll hurt yourself.”

as if you were the one in control. but you listen, obediently as always, and the alcohol from earlier combined with the need in your chest mixes together until your body is as taut as a desperate wire, until you no longer have control of yourself or your limbs. the knife cuts easily, choso’s hands as steady and precise as ever. you can feel the blood dripping onto his sheets like a series of hot tears.

it’s too much, all at once. it is a fire which destroys you, which renders every coherent thought into ash and causes you to sob nothing but drawn-out cries and pleads of choso’s name into the dark bedroom. he has you just where he wants you: pliant, dumb, obedient. if he asked you to fetch him a star, you would have asked him which one he needed.

choso’s tongue darts between his teeth as a steady hand continues its masterpiece. you sob unabashedly in reply with every stroke, with every flex of his fingers as he works his blade against your tender skin. and yet, as the pain grows, so does your need for something, for anything, for release; with every aching minute your cunt grows hotter and lonelier and emptier between your thighs.

you crave something, anything, choso, perhaps even more than you wish for air.

“there you go,” choso says, just as you release another cry so piercing there’s no way even yuuji wouldn’t have heard it. “all done.”

you sit up on your elbows to peer down at the masterpiece below your hip. smeared with blood, aching and raw from the blade, the word CHOSO spreads across your upper thigh in an uneven but heartfelt script. it makes you dizzy, this marking, this sign that no one owns you better than your sacred brother does. you wonder if it will leave a scar, if it will heal; and even more so, you wonder if choso will merely rewrite it, again and again, until every cell in your body knows that you are nothing without him.

you say nothing; a whine escapes your lips as your eyes flit from the mark to choso’s eyes, dark and possessive, as he looks back at you.

“you like it?” he asks, once again the sweet thing, the doting one.

“yes,” you whisper back, never one to lie to your perfect big brother.

but you cannot hide the insatiability. choso notices the way your thighs twitch from the intensity, the way your cunt drools and your eyebrows furrow because you cannot relieve this ache on your own. you’re helpless, entirely at his mercy. choso tilts his head with a soft and unreadable simper at the sight.

“you’re really worked up, huh?” he pretends your distress is not blatantly obvious. he twirls the bloodstained knife between his fingertips for a moment before bringing the flat edge of the blade against his lips in a somber kiss. “this little thing’s got you down bad, i see.” he flashes the switchblade at you like a diamond. you watch, entranced, as choso slides his tongue across the metal until any traces of your blood disappear into his mouth.

your belly’s on fire. the switchblade shines with choso’s spit and he smiles, your blood on his tongue, while he prods your legs apart, further, until you’re entirely open for him with nothing to hide. you whine lowly as choso’s eyes flicker between your eyes, dazed and helpless, and the slick on the bedsheets.

“choso,” you repeat. “please, help me.” your eyes are wide and your voice is small and you crumble beneath the weight of your own needing, of your own body working of its own volition, of the high that collapses all over you.

perhaps it’s the way you call for him, your big brother, in your time of need. perhaps it’s the way choso can never really deny you, even when he feigns disappointment or rage or neglect. he’s bound to you, your protector, and you can see in the way his eyes soften ever so slightly that choso will not deny you this request.

“sure thing, angel. let me clean this up for you.” choso’s voice is generous as he bows his face towards your hips with the reverence of one before the altar. he leaves no room for your answer. an eager tongue swipes across your thigh and laps at the blood which pools there. his movements are indulgent, refined, as he holds your legs open with intimidating palms and drinks you in like medicine.

“choso–” you gasp, unable to look away. his eyes flit back to meet yours in reply but he continues his ministrations, slow, teasing, as he ignores your cunt entirely and licks at the fresh wound until it’s finally, sacredly, clean. your newly beloved CHOSO glimmers with his spit when he pulls away. he smiles at you then, praying over your hips, lips stained red with your blood, with your being.

“i may be their brother,” choso gestures towards the door, to the party which must still rage below, “but i’m your brother first, and now you’ll never forget it.”

the words are followed by his tongue on your inner thigh, fervent this time, as he travels downwards, downwards from his name on your leg until his nose is a breath away from your clit. you thrust your hips towards him impatiently and he accepts it, gratefully, burying his face deep into your cunt like he’s searching for gold. choso lavishes your clit with plump lips and an eager tongue, drawing the bud into his mouth and kissing it until you cry, until your legs tremble as they ensnare him in your garden.

“choso–” you’re crying, voice transcendent throughout the frat house, his favorite song. there’s a tongue prodding against your hole and a silver ring on your clit and you lose yourself within it, within choso’s breath on your folds and the fire which erupts into chaos.

when it comes to pleasing you, choso does not require air. he refuses to resurface as his tongue explores every inch, as he laps away at you with the passionate abandon only an older brother can provide. what you need, he needs, and what you desire most, choso is always willing to provide. he holds you steady as he works so you cannot escape him. he forces you into stillness as he abuses every sacred inch of your cunt, as he works you into a frenzy with his fingers and his tongue until you can think of nothing but wanting to cum.

and then, then, at the precipice of pleasure, choso pulls away. you pause as you catch your breath, heartbeat like an earthquake, and recollect your shock. why has he stopped? where has he gone? you’re about to sit up, to feign sobriety, to demand what the matter is, when something cool and smooth presses against your clit.

choso’s cheek rests against your inner thigh as he presses the flat edge of the switchblade against your cunt. it’s cold and dangerous and sublime and you cannot help but think of the way it could ruin you, that if you shifted or choso wanted it everything could end here, now, forever. and it is this fear, coupled with the coolness of the blade suffocating your clit, with the alcohol in your bloodstream, that sends you into a place from which you may never return.

the orgasm is as violent as a hurricane. the moment you tense and begin to quake with a strangled sob choso replaces the blade with his tongue and rides you through it, coating his lips with your cum and swallowing the vibrations and heightening the sensation until you are tortured by it, by the sting of pleasure and overstimulation and want.

(“that’s it,” you think he says into your skin, but your ears ring too loudly to know. “cum for me, just like that.”)

it takes some time for the waves to recede and for your body to become still again. with a head comprised of of jelly and limbs made of water you lie still, panting, as choso nonchalantly licks your slick from the switchblade with a hum and gingerly sets it back down on his dresser. you watch as he slides the belt out of his jeans and tosses it into the dark room, as he hovers above you like an angel and its lover.

“better now?” he asks against your parted lips. you nod. he kisses you, deeply, a kiss made of iron and cum and blood, tongue swiping across your teeth before he draws the air from your lungs. your vision swims when he plants a kiss on the tip of your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, between your eyebrows. he plants his love until there is nowhere left untouched, until you are buzzing with the security only your brother choso can give you.

“yeah,” you mumble back to him, content, satisfied. even the sting of his name on your body is a pleasantry now.

“good.” choso wipes the perspiration from your brow. his jeans scratch against your pelvis, and it is only then that you finally register his cock, hard and eager, waiting patiently for its turn. it is only then that you realize choso’s lesson is not yet over, that your brother’s desperate need has only begun.

“now,” he purrs, gently, lovingly, “can you show me how much you love me?”

(as always, forever, you do. you show him your love, endlessly, even when the party ends and the house falls eerily silent. you show choso everything, all of it, loyally, just as he asks, with an only you, choso, and a no one else loves me like you.

because although choso offers his love to the brothers downstairs, he will always, forever, be your brother first, til death do you part.)

#tw incest #tw dubcon #tw knife play #tw blood play #tw marking #tw yandere #choso smut #choso.#it's dark in here #it's hot in here

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deathbyjoong · 3 years

Text

ATEEZ Honeymoon HCs

Summary: I wrote a few thousand words on what I thought a honeymoon would be like with each member of ATEEZ. I hope you all enjoy ✨

Many many thanks to @bfyunho for beta-ing and generally being my favorite person 💕

Warnings: fluff and smut. 18+ ONLY!

Seonghwa

Y’all already KNOW that a honeymoon with Seonghwa is just gonna be two weeks of him exercising his duality

Constant love-making? Absolutely. But also! Lots of interesting things to do and many opportunities to make memories

Where’s he gonna do that? A large resort suite all to yourselves in Mediterranean ItalyIt’s warm, sensual, fun, perfect--everything you ever wanted

Days spent wandering the town, swimming, finding museums and restaurants

Seonghwa insists on taking selfies at every single location--he wants to know every single one of these moments long after his memory has failed him

Sunbathing on a private sailboat on the Amalfi Coast, soaking in the vitamin D

The ship’s captain finds a beautiful, unoccupied spot in a shallow cove, and drops anchor

He then heads into the cabin of the boat to give you and your husband some privacy

Seonghwa sits on a lounge chair behind you, rubbing sunscreen on your shoulders

He’s letting his hands move just as slowly and sensually across your skin as he wants, taking his time in listening to your breath hitch in your throat

Eventually ducking his head down to press his lips to a spot on your neck he hasn’t covered yet, while his thumbs still rub circles on your shoulders

Giving all his attention to that one area, biting lightly then sucking the skin to soothe it

You lean your head back, giving him all the access he could want, and a soft sigh escapes your parted lips

His hair tickles your shoulder, but Seonghwa doesn’t linger long before he’s turning you to face him so he can kiss you properly

He’s got the ties of your swimsuit undone in seconds, and you throw your legs over Seonghwa’s hips as soon as it’s off

You grind yourself on him, abusing his swim shorts in your pursuit of a little friction

Hwa grips you by the waist, firmly but not enough to hurt. Just enough to get you close--enough to help you rise and fall on him

Something occurs to you, and you break the kiss to breathlessly murmur in his ear

“You need sunscreen, too. You’re gonna burn.”

Hwa chuckles, dangerously low, flashing his teeth as he reaches down with one hand and picks up the bottle he’d set on the deck

“My wife is so considerate,” he coos, handing it to you

You take it, rolling your eyes. But Seonghwa’s arms tighten around you once more, and you’re brought close to the tent in his shorts again

“Will you put some on me too, then?” He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes that are completely betrayed by his pupils, blown wide

You squeeze some of the lotion into your hands and let the bottle fall down as you spread it over his shoulders

You’re consumed by his kiss again, gripping his shoulders, arms, neck, wherever you can reach

His skin rubs slick against yours because of the sunscreen, and all you can taste is the salt on Seonghwa’s lips as he does away with his shorts and finally pushes into you

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes of soft moans, grinding, and his mouth against your neck for you to come, head thrown back and facing the sun

Your husband isn’t long after, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder as he loses himself in you

When you’ve come down from your high, Seonghwa stands slowly and pulls you with him

“Let’s go swimming.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon wading in the shallow waters of the cove, soaking in the sun and kicking up the white sand with your toes

When the sun starts to slide down the sky, setting everything aglow with orange and gold, Seonghwa stands behind you and holds his lips to the back of your head

His arms are around you, and your joined form sways gently with the waves until the sun falls away completely

When you get back to the resort, you both shower off and Seonghwa presents you with a beautiful dress to wear to dinner

He wines and dines you every single night, even making an effort to learn some Italian to more easily place your orders and interact with locals

And each night, he lifts his glass and toasts, “To you, Mrs. Park.”

Hongjoong

It took exactly zero convincing for you to get Hongjoong to agree to Paris

He loved the idea right away, because it’s a city known for its art and fashion

You reserve a penthouse room in the heart of Paris, with floor to ceiling windows and sheer white curtains

The two of you arrive in Paris decked out in the most impeccable airport fashion, ready to paint the city red

Unfortunately, the jet lag hits you both a little harder than expected

So you spend the rest of the first day sleeping and eating in bed, to the backdrop of sultry French soul music playing over the radio

The next morning, you wake up just as the sun is beginning to peek over the rooftops

It sends gold rays through the blue light of the morning

You slept with the windows cracked, and the soft breeze blows through the curtains

He’s sleeping next to you, and you curl up against him, perfectly content to get a few more minutes of sleep

His t-shirt smells like him--like home-- and you smile to yourself

But something less wholesome is going on his head

Hongjoong’s eyebrows tilt and his lips part as he whimpers in his sleep

It’s an expression you recognize, although he’s only ever made it while he’s very much awake

Usually as you take him, nails grazing down his stomach, watching his head fall back against the pillows

You have to wonder if that’s what he’s dreaming about, but you’re not about to sit by and let the dream version of you have all the fun

Throwing a leg over his hips, you rest your hands on Joong’s chest and slowly kiss his neck

He moans softly, eyes opening as he wakes

His hands find your hips, pulling you against the growing hardness in his sweatpants, and there’s a sheepish smirk on his face

“Sounded like a good dream,” you whisper against his lips

Hongjoong smiles in the dim light, his eyes flicking to your mouth

“It was,” he replies

His hand is creeping up your back, fingers purposely snagging on your t-shirt

“But nothing compared to this, and nothing compared to you,” he says, and kisses you firmly

You’re not usually one for morning sex, but this lazy love is exquisite in its own way

It’s all slow touches and kisses that are soft but not lacking in passion

Hongjoong shifts to be on top of you and your noses bump, causing both of you to giggle a bit

Joong hides his face in your neck, but takes the opportunity to place a few kisses there

The pair of you take your time in climbing the mountain, but you reach the peak at the same time, hands clasped and legs tangled

You tilt your head a little to watch his face as he comes because the sight of him, and the sounds he’s making, are nothing short of gorgeous

Following an equally slow comedown, you shower off together and clamber back into bed for another couple hours of sleep

When you’re both a bit more rested, you set out on foot to explore the city

Munching on croissants with Hongjoong at an outdoor cafe, and sipping espressos before setting off again

You stop at a small flower stand, and Joong buys you a handful of roses

As you walk on, he has his hands in his pockets, and you loop your arm through his

The content smile playing on his lips gives you a high, and you bask in the moment

The following day, you drive to the Musee du Louvre, and stay until closing time

Joong looks at the art, and you look at him, admiring your own masterpiece

You’re thankful you ended up here because it gives you a perfect, constant view of his profile, from his starry eyes to the tip of his nose to his lovely mouth

He catches you staring at him, and blushes while trying to suppress a smile

You do another day trip to the palace and gardens at Versailles, holding hands as you stroll through the ornate, golden halls and endless paths adorned by flowers

And, of course, it’s not a trip to Paris, or a trip with Hongjoong, if there isn’t shopping for clothes at some point

You pick outfits out for each other in the city’s best boutiques de vetements, from sleek luxury retailers to some of the more underrated shops in the art district

The two of you end up having to buy another suitcase for all the clothes you bring back, but this turn of events is shocking to no one

It’s the most fun you could have on a vacation, and your only consolation for having to go home at the end of the week is getting to start the best adventure of all

Being married to your best friend

Yunho

You’ve always wanted to visit Austria

What better occasion than your honeymoon to spend a week in Salzburg?

It’s all wonderful-- the music, scenery, history, and dancing!

It’s a series of beautiful moments from the very start of your trip

You and Yunho watch Harry Potter together on the plane there, sharing earbuds and mouthing the spells together

At one point, Yunho moves the armrest so the two of you can comfortably hold hands

You doze off together, heads resting against each other, and are only awoken by the captain announcing that you’ve landed

You were worried about jet lag, but your Energizer bunny husband has an abundance of contagious excitement

You drop your bags at the hotel, change clothes, and immediately set off on your first adventure

It’s a sunny, breezy day and the sweet aroma of flowers on balconies is everywhere

You’re strolling hand in hand down a cobblestone road in the historic district of the town when you and Yunho hear the music at the same time

You’re drawn like magnets to the sound of a small band playing on the sidewalk

Yunho pulls you in for a dance, just like you knew he would, one grasping yours and the other pulling you close by the waist

As he swings you in circles, you think to yourself, this is why you married him

His carefree nature, spontaneity, and the joy his spirit radiates

And the laughter in your ears that’s just as much music as the instruments being played on the corner of the street

Though you don’t know the steps, and you’re pretty sure Yunho is making them up on the spot, you never once stumble over each other

He ends the dance by twirling you around, tickled pink at how much fun you’re both having

Next, you find a little outdoor cafe, and insist on feeding him yourself

Yunho is blushing and acting like he thinks it’s ridiculous, but when you finally give up, he picks up the fork and hands it back to you with a sheepish smile

You giggle and scoop up a piece of the chocolate cake you’re sharing, watching his cheeks turn pink as he accepts it

By the time the cake is finished, you’ve got a bit of chocolate icing on the corner of your mouth

Instead of just pointing it out to you, Yunho becomes Yunhoe

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he reaches across the little table and swipes his thumb across your lip

You thought he was just being cute, until he brings his hand back to his mouth and sucks the icing off his thumb

As you watch with a smirk, Yunho gives you a look that makes it clear he’s doing the math in his head of how quickly you can get back to the hotel room

He throws a handful of Euros on the table (more than the bill would’ve been) and grabs your hand

Twenty minutes later, you stumble backwards out of the elevator, arms thrown around Yunho’s shoulders

His mouth is hot over yours, and you have to laugh at yourself for not even making it one day before jumping each other

But hey-- what are honeymoons for, right?

He breaks your kiss only to swipe the key card at the room door, but his lips are right back on yours as soon as he can

Yunho picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and blindly pushes the door open behind you

You’re not sure whose idea it was, or if either of you even thought about it, but you end up bent over the balcony railing, your lower half shielded from pedestrians below only by flower boxes

Yunho’s got one hand around your waist, and the other hand braced on the railing

He’s groaning softly between kisses against the side of your neck, thrusting into you from behind

At one point his hand drifts from your waist to press into your clit, causing your head to fall back against his shoulder

Yunho puts a hand over your mouth to stifle the moans that you can’t keep in

You come shortly after with a muffled cry into his palm, and Yunho bites into your shoulder as gently as he can to muffle his own noise when he comes a moment later

You take a few moments to come down before Yunho walks you inside to clean off

You collapse onto the bed together for a much-needed nap, dozing off peacefully in your favorite place in the world-- your husband’s arms

Yeosang

You had to reason with Yeosang just a little to get him to agree to go to Greece for your honeymoon

But once he realized why you picked it out of all places, he came around

It offers food, sunshine, fresh air, and many adventures in a place made for exploring

Getting excited on the plane ride in, giggling with each other and looking out the window at the islands like a couple of excited kids

You go searching for the best views in Santorini, climbing through the endless maze of steps between white and blue buildings

So many selfies--Yeosang smiling shyly with his cheek pressed to the side of your head

After a while, he really starts to relax and have fun, and his smiles in your pictures get wider and wider

One day is devoted entirely to walking through the market in town, buying random food items just because they smell good and holding them out for the other to try

At one point Yeosang slips away while you’re not paying attention

Trying not to panic, you look around, feeling like a child who’s lost their mom at a supermarket

Just as you’re starting to lose your breath, Yeosang catches you by the waist

You knew it was him just by his touch, but you still look to his face for the reassurance that he’s there

There’s a glint in his eye that implies he’s amused by your concern at losing him, but he tells you it’s okay, and shows you where he went:

A bright bouquet of flowers no doubt native to the island is bursting from his hands in marvelous yellows, pinks, and whites

You recognize Asphodels, but the rest are beautiful, nameless mysteries

They almost get crushed between your bodies as you throw your arms around Sangie and kiss him in full public view

No one seems to mind it though-- it appears as though love is in the air on this day, carried by the light sea breeze and lit by the sun

Yeosang smiles into the kiss before reminding you to be careful of your flowers

You take them from him with a grin, but when you’re on your way home, the smile turns into a pout

“Sang?” “Yeah?” “My feet hurt.”

Yeosang fakes a dramatic sigh, but it’s not another second before he’s crouching in front of you, holding his arms out behind him

You gleefully climb on, and Yeosang carries you the rest of the short walk to your AirBnB

He’ll never say it out loud, but his favorite thing in the world is feeling your arms around his shoulders

Just like on your wedding day, just like now, just like he wants every day for the rest of his life

Another day, the two of you are hiking through some of the more rural parts of Santorini, and happen upon a beautiful wild olive grove near a cliff face

You come back the next morning with a blanket and some snacks, and spend the entire day in the shade

Admiring him as you sit by the seaside, because he looks so stunning among the greens and blues and yellows

Again--SO. MANY. SELFIES

It’s not your fault he looks that good

Maybe he looks a little too good

Maybe you make a mess of your picnic blanket after grabbing your husband and pulling him on top of you

Once Yeosang looks around and ascertains that there’s absolutely no one around, he’s all game

His hands are bunching the skirt up around your hips, his mouth greedy and searching your neck for any spot that’ll make you whimper when he sucks into it

Your spot in paradise turns into rapture as his fingers meet your core, massaging you until you start to dig your nails into his shoulder

You’ve got one hand on his bicep and the other in his hair when he takes you in one smooth motion, finding his rhythm like he never dropped it in the first place

You come apart beneath him, and beneath the softly rustling leaves of the olive trees

The two of you fall asleep shortly after, completely relaxed in each other’s arms

Holding hands on your walks through the town at night, underneath the twinkle lights

You’ve married your best friend, and this is the best beginning to your lives together that you could ever imagine

Happiness settles around you like a light blanket, and you hope it stays forever

San

Don’t ask me why, but a glass igloo hotel in Iceland seems perfect

It’s cozy but not too small, and it’s the picture of quiet luxury

The glass walls and ceiling give you a beautiful view of the wide Icelandic sky, which is clear as crystal after a fresh snowfall

There’s a fireplace against one wall, with a fuzzy rug in front of it and many, many pillows

You spend the first evening snuggled up there with San, sipping hot chocolate and talking about every random thing you can think of

He keeps finding reasons to say “my wife”, getting all giggly every time he does

After you fall asleep, another storm rolls through, dropping an extra foot of powdery snow all around you

You and San are oblivious, however, because you’re both fast asleep under several layers of blankets

Safe and warm in your little nest, you nuzzle your face into San’s neck, and he tightens his arms around you in his sleep

Because being with you, and keeping you close, comes as naturally to him as breathing

When you wake up, you see the wonderland outside and it’s not even a discussion-- you and Sannie are outside as fast as you can put on your clothes

You play in the snow together, and his adorable laugh echoes around you every time he beans you with a snowball

Chasing each other around like little kids, giggling and kicking up the snow

San catches you by the waist and spins you around, making sure to never drop you

You wrestle around a bit but eventually end up making snow angels together

When you stand up to admire your outlines in the snow, San pulls you close and presses his face into your hair

Putting an arm around his waist, you brush some of the snow off his jacket

He catches your hand, and holds it to his chest, where you can feel his heart pounding

“Never forget that this beats for you, okay?”

You almost cry, but opt to pull San to you and press kisses all over his face instead

He just giggles and accepts every single peck on his quickly-heating cheeks

Later that day, you make your way to the hot springs nearby, running as fast as you can to the water’s edge after dropping your coats

It’s a rush to the senses, slipping into the hot spring and away from the frigid air

San is behind you, gripping your hand tightly

You find a ledge that’s been carved into the rock underwater, and make yourselves comfortable on it

San leans back, eyes closed, and you can see the puffs of his breath coming slower and slower as he fully relaxes

You lean back against his arm, enjoying the feeling of his skin and the soft water pooling around you

You end up throwing your legs over his thighs and curling into his side

His arm goes around your shoulders, and you feel every bit of worry leave your body

You’re heavy with relaxation, but you feel lighter than ever

That evening, you’re watching a movie and sipping spiked hot chocolate when a flash of green lights up the igloo

Gasping, you stand up to stare skywards, mouth open

San turns off the movie and moves next to you, taking your hand and squeezing it lightly

You watch the Northern Lights in silence as they ripple across the sky in vivid purples, blues, and greens

A few minutes into the show, you glance over at San to see his eyes glittering with all the colors

He looks so beautiful, holding entire galaxies, and he doesn’t even realize it

When the lights begin to fade down, you reach over and pull San to you

He knew what you wanted from the first millisecond of touch

He responds in kind, tugging you as close to him as he can and making quick work of both your shirts

Chests pressed together and breathing ragged, you let yourselves fall back onto the rug

Arms and legs tangle as you make love beneath the glass ceiling, and the auroras begin to flicker again, making everything that much more beautiful

Falling asleep in each others’ arms, not only for the warmth, but because you love him more than anything in the world

Mingi

Madagascar!

It’s a lesser known honeymoon destination, with fewer people than some of the more popular spots in Europe or the Caribbean

You have your own bungalow on the beach, with room service twice a day and spa services as well

Getting massages and face masks with Mingi? Yes. Doing so in matching fluffy white robes? Double yes.

Going on a safari adventure to see the lemurs!

You and Mingi pile into the backseat of an open-air Jeep and a driver takes you around one of the wildlife refuges

You two have the time of your lives looking at all the animals, grabbing each other and pointing when you see a new one

He’s smiling so big the entire time, and his happiness is contagious

You both sleep in late every day just because you can--no alarms, just birds twittering and sunlight filtering through the blinds

Waking up in each other’s arms, nestled under a layer of soft blankets

All you have to do is open your eyes, and Mingi is right there, sleeping soundly with the corners of his mouth turned up

His hair is tousled and he looks so peaceful

That is, until you try to get up to make breakfast, and he refuses to let you get out of bed

He doesn’t even wake up; just throws one arm around you and hugs you tight, humming in his sleep with a little pout on his lips

You can’t help but smile, and relent to his cute charm

An hour or so later, when both of you wake up, Mingi kisses you all over your face

It’s the best way to say “good morning” in his opinion, and you’re pretty sure he’s right

Another day, you do a guided hike through Amber Mountain National Park

There are even more lemurs, and many other animals

The air is so clean you can’t even believe it, and peace seeps into you with each step further into the lush, green wilderness

You stop to swim in an emerald pool at the foot of a small waterfall, and your guide steps away to give you a moment of privacy

You get close to Mingi, resting your hands on his shoulders and pressing your forehead to his

The water flows softly around you, but Mingi is your rock--steadfast and comfortable to you always

He kisses you sweetly, and you feel any tension he might have had leaving his body with each deep inhale

Your favorite moment from the trip, however, has to be your journey to the Avenue of the Baobabs

The Baobab trees have long been a legendary symbol of the African wilds, but seeing them up close in reality is its own level of breathtaking

Nothing could have prepared you for just how massive the Baobabs are, towering above the horizon as you approach in your tour Jeep

You’re dropped off at the beginning of the path that winds through hundreds of the giant trees, and told to meet back there in a couple of hours

Mingi pulls you down the trail excitedly, telling you that if he had to be a tree, he would be one of these

You snap your favorite photo ever that afternoon

It’s a picture of Mingi, grinning widely, hugging a Baobab (or trying to, since that particular tree had a diameter of about fifteen feet)

He looks so happy, almost childlike, and the joy just radiates off of him

That picture gets framed the second you return from your trip, and it’s also the lockscreen on your phone

Although your days are spent visiting every destination on the island, your evenings are a much-needed quiet time to recharge

You and Mingi snuggle up for a movie some nights, and other nights you drink on the porch and listen to the sounds of the jungle

Sometimes you get distracted from the movie or the scenery, and kiss Mingi a whole bunch instead

He’s more than willing to pull you close, and even carry you off, when you whisper something sinful in his ear

But no matter what you get up to, his love and sweetness are in every touch

Whether you’re out and about, or enjoying a quiet moment to yourselves, his arm is around you always, and you never have to ask twice for extra kisses

Wooyoung

A beach resort in Turks and Caicos seems like the perfect place to go with Wooyoung

Hear me out-- it’s got music and tourists that are just as loud as he is

Crystal clear, bright blue waters greet you as the two of you hitch a ride from the airport

All the windows in the cab are down, because it’s sunny and just the right kind of warm

Salty sea air fills your lungs and the wind breezes through your hair

You’re given complementary rum punch when you check in, and it’s the perfect start to your trip

You and Wooyoung drop your bags off at the room and immediately change into your swimsuits

The resort backs right up to the beach, so you run out in your sandals, hand in hand as you make a beeline toward the water

The sand is hot beneath your feet, but you don’t even notice because you’re so excited and the water! is so! blue!

You crash into the surf seconds later, the warm water swirling around your legs

You wade through the water until you’re chest deep, then kick up your feet and float on your back

There are no breakers, nor boats allowed, in the calm waters of the bay, so you float in the soft blue for a little bit, content to just let the tide wash you back to shore in whatever timeline it sees fit

You reach out at the line between sea and sky, meeting the skin of Wooyoung’s arm

He’s still standing, staring in wonder at the paradise around you, but he takes your hand without thinking

He’s your anchor, letting you float without drifting away

You spend the next several hours going back and forth between the sea and the sand, finding beach chairs to lounge on while you lay in the sun

As the sun starts to fall in the sky, you decide to head back to the room to shower off and get dressed for a fancy dinner

You’re minding your business, rinsing the shampoo out of your hair, when the bathroom door opens and Wooyoung pokes his face inside

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all. It’ll save water,” you respond, smiling

Woo sheds his swimshorts and joins you, slipping in as fast as he can to keep the steam inside the glass door of the shower

You massage shampoo into his hair, enjoying his little hums of appreciation

He rinses it out while you wash your body, and you stand behind him as he washes off too

His back is to you and you openly stare at the water running down his back

You feel heavy, relaxed, from spending all day in the sun, but there’s one thing that could make this afternoon even better

Once all the soap is off of him, you step forward and kiss the spot between his shoulder blades

Never a stranger to your unspoken wishes, Wooyoung leans his head back as you kiss your way up to his shoulder

When you can’t reach any more, he turns and kisses you, hard

He’s got one hand snaked around your waist and the other holding your face to his

Your arms are around his shoulders in a heartbeat, and he backs you against the tile

It’s cold, but the warm water is still running between your bodies, giving you shivers

Wooyoung breaks the kiss only to kneel in front of you, throwing your leg over his shoulder

He brings you to the edge with his mouth, then stands again, keeping your leg hitched over his hip

When he fucks you, you’re worried that people are going to see the scratches on his shoulders the next day at the beach

But eventually, you can’t be bothered to think about it, and you lose yourself in his touch instead

You come apart shortly after, chests heaving and skin pressed to wet skin

A little while later, you’re toasting one another over dinner

The restaurant offers many amazing local delicacies, and Wooyoung insists on hand-feeding you at least half of them throughout your trip

There’s live music every night at the resort’s restaurant & bar, and Wooyoung doesn’t think twice about pulling you with him to the dancefloor

You’re not overly confident in your dancing skills, but Woo pulls you close and shows you some simple steps as other couples join around you

After a couple of songs, you’re able to get into the groove of the funky music that the island loves so much

Wooyoung’s smile is all you need to know you’re moving the right way, and you dance to a few more songs before going back to the bar counter for more fruity drinks

The two of you continue to get tipsy, then walk to the beach and make out in the sand like a couple of teenagers

You’re both giggling between kisses, digging your toes into the sand, and existing purely in the moment

Everything is sweet, from the taste of pineapple on his tongue to the heady aroma of plumeria blooms in the trees

Every day is a beach day in this place. You’ve never had this much fun, splashing and playing in the water, laughing nonstop

One afternoon, Wooyoung is passed out on a beach chair under an umbrella, lulled to sleep by the day’s warmth and the sounds of the ocean

After taking a picture of him to giggle at later, you get an idea

The air is fragrant with the sweet smell of the thousands of flowering bushes that are planted throughout the resort’s grounds

Nobody would miss a few of those flowers, would they? If you were to, say, pluck some and decorate your husband with them?

You slip away from the chairs and your sleeping Woo to gather a few blooms from the nearest row of landscaping, returning with sweet-smelling handfuls of them

You giggle to yourself, putting the flowers all around Wooyoung’s head like a little halo of yellows, whites, and pinks

He doesn’t even notice them until he wakes up, gets back in the water, and sees a bunch of petals in the surf around him

You laugh and take photos of all of it

Being on a catamaran at sunset, sitting side by side with your head on his shoulder

The sky is painted in vivid oranges and reds, and Woo’s hand rests on your thigh, his breathing slow and even next to you

The wind is a bit cool on your wet skin, but the sun still delivers warmth, and you inhale the smell of saltwater on Wooyoung’s skin

He turns his face slightly to kiss the top of your head, and you smile knowing that his love for you comes without him even having to think about it

As the boat smoothly cuts through the water, you feel completely at peace

You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, and it’s hard to think about your life turning out any other way than this moment, with this man

Jongho

Buenos Aires, Argentina

Incredible local food, soccer matches, constant music, breathtaking city scenery--it’s a neotropical dream

First of all, Jongho is amazing to travel with

Being the eldest of his family, he’s well-prepared with a bag full of snacks, meds, toiletries, headphones, and neck pillows for both of you

He looks so cute on the flight, snuggled up in his complimentary blanket and neck pillow

He’s pouting in his sleep and you take several photos just because

When you get to the hotel room, he bravely offers to carry your luggage up the stairs for you

But he makes you wait at the bottom of the stairs so that he can come back and scoop you into his arms

Because he insists on carrying you bridal-style at every opportunity, starting with your arrival to the room

It’s a suite on the second floor, with its own balcony overlooking the main walkway below

You can look out over shops and restaurants and bars, all the nightlife in one place

You change out of your airport clothes, then venture out to grab some drinks and go shopping-- the boys had bullied Jongho into promising that he’d bring back gifts

The two of you are buzzing by the time night falls, but your feet are sore from walking and you’re exhausted from the flight

So you grab some food to-go from one of the restaurants and take it back to the room

You chow through dinner with the balcony doors open, allowing the music and chatter of the streets to carry in on the soft, warm breeze

Going into food comas immediately after eating, you and Jongho pass out on top of the covers, facing each other with hands clasped in the middle

You wake up to brilliant sunlight and Jongho’s arm thrown over you

He’s your life-size teddy bear, and you snuggle closer to him for warmth and comfort

When you both get up and around, you surprise Jongho with tickets to this year’s Superclasico-- only the biggest soccer match in Buenos Aires!

Jongho tries to play it cool, but you can tell he’s absolutely giddy at getting to attend a sports game while he’s here

He loves soccer, after all, and he can’t stop smiling the entire way to the stadium

He practically drags you by the hand to your seats, which are so close to the field that you can hear the footballers yelling to each other

Jongho doesn’t sit down a single time during the game, shouting excitedly in Korean even though he doesn’t know anything about these teams or who to root for

He’s just glad to be there, and it’s an absolutely fantastic match

On your short walk home, he’s got so much energy from being amped up by the game that he stops you on the sidewalk and tells you to get on his back

You blush profusely, but who are you to say no? Besides, you love seeing him be this carefree

The two of you stick out like a sore thumb in the streets of Argentina since you’re giggling like crazy and he’s singing to you in a language that definitely isn’t local

You indulge in some amazing street food before going back to the hotel and getting ready for the evening

He got tickets to a theater show, and it gives you an opportunity to get all dressed up

Your husband looks so handsome in his casual suit, and when you walk out in your dress, he’s holding roses

The show is wonderful, and you’re both part of the standing ovation it receives

You throw off your shoes when you get home, but there’s so much excitement outside that the night is hardly over

Standing on your balcony, listening to singing in the streets and bars below, with Jongho’s arms around you from behind

This man clearly did his research before coming here, because he actually knows some of the songs in Spanish and you bet your ass he serenades you as musicians pass by below

There are fireworks some nights for no apparent reason other than that the city exists to be a technicolor celebration of life

There is no better place to start this marriage, and no better person to be married to

#ateez #ateez headcanons #ateez fic #ateez hcs #ateez fluff #ateez smut #seonghwa #hongjoong #yeosang #yunho #mingi #san #jongho #wooyoung #kpop #Kpop hcs #fic #writing #my writing

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot.

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.

A bonafide, absolute idiot.

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.

There's no way you think this one looks bad.

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…"

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.

But alas, she doesn't.

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.

You can get your own revenge.

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now.

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.

"What's wrong?"

There's that voice again.

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.

When did that happen?

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.

"I'm Lisa."

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.

"Likewise, beautiful."

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.

"That sounds wonderful."

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.

She does a twirl, looking around.

"It's gorgeous."

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.

"Maybe, but it's the truth."

"Sure, Lisa."

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.

Turning Page, you recognize it as.

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud…

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.

"Please…"

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

317 notes · View notes

nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Note

Could I request a oneshot with Remus Lupin with the promt "kiss me so i can feel alive again". Also congratulations on 1000 followers 🎉✨💕

ALIVE AND TRUE

PAIRING: Remus Lupin x reader WORD COUNT: 2k (whoops) SUMMARY: Having found a lost friend, living in the countryside of Yorkshire, feelings of once hidden affection start to bloom in the need to be alive and good things to be real. A/N: Thank you for requesting and I’m so sorry for taking so long! This is one of my favorites because it’s so soft and romantic and I adore this request. Please tell me what you think of it xo. WARNINGS: Angst. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

It’s the house you see from trudging down the walkway that forces you to double take your previous steps. Silent and empty, it seems to twist into the forest from afar. Bent trees adorn the lane with overgrown greenery at its feet and ancient brick walls that run along with it. The fields in Yorkshire are vast and immaculate but right now, you are alone and suddenly the far stretch of land doesn’t seem to have the shine of the countryside. Your eyes shift to the house that sits behind a rusted gate, joints barely holding together from the years of rotting and exposure to the heat and rain. It’s barely a house but more of a cottage. No, it’s not even a cottage. Semi-derelict and tumbledown, it looks more like the ruins of what used to be a home.

You look down to the note in your hand, parchment torn at the edges with the cursive words of your handwriting that make up an address and coordinates. Visually, there’s no indication of where exactly you are but according to the coordinates, you are precisely where you need to be. For the past three years, your investigation into finding your friend has proven to be impossible and almost met with the acceptance that you will never see him again. Yet, after an anonymous tip had been owled to your doorstep, indicating the suspicions of the presence of a werewolf somewhere in Yorkshire as overheard by the locals of a nearby town, gave you a tinge of hope to reconnect with someone you lost.

The sight bears a high chance that he may be hiding here, unfortunately. It makes it hard to believe that someone you saw had so much life in him, is living in this condition.

Anxiety starts to creep onto you as you push the worn-down gate. It creaks with the rustling of the wind, a sign of an imminent storm. The sun doesn’t shine anymore, clouds of grey congregate in the skies above in the chorus of rainfall. You don’t do too well with apparition, thankfully having only lost half of your hair during the war. Hence, if the anonymous tip turns out to be a fake, you would have to make your way out of the countryside in the rain or even worse, take the Knight Bus.

You hate the Knight Bus.

Attempting to conjure up whatever courage you have left, you steadily make your way into the compound, plodding through the overgrown grass. As you grow closer, the cottage looks even worse than it was from afar, climbing plants of dull green embellish the walls of the ruins.

Then, in your periphery, you catch a glimpse of violet—Bluebells. The same flowers that used to grow on the forest floor of the forbidden forest. You remember him telling you about how he had seen a white bluebell, rare to its nature.

Warmth fills your chest, you know he is here.

The door is wooden, climbing plants seem to have made their way to it, branching around its handle.

You knock once. No answer.

You knock twice. There’s footsteps, they’re heavy.

With the swing of the door, you are met with none other than Remus Lupin. He looks older, dark circles below his eyes that have lost their intensity of blue, hair unkempt and shabby, and a beard, tracing along his jawline. He has his wand directed to you in defense. Probably because no one ever visits.

The smile on your face is impossible to suppress. It's bright at the recognition of the familiarity of his face. “Remus,” you breathe, eyes crinkling and gleaming with the bliss from the effort and worth of your investigation to find this very man, who stands just a couple of inches away from you. You swallow, not wanting to blink away the possibility that this may all be a dream. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He says your name through a whisper like it’s the answer to the millions of prayers recited and uttered from his lips as he drifts off to slumber under the moonshine, beaming through the shattered glass of the windows by his bedside. He dreams of you, often in times when his body is too weak to endure the aftermath of a full moon.

Yet, you're here and very real.

Then, he watches your grin falter and how your eyes move around the curves of his face. The deep cuts are there and visible. Although magic heals, time and energy play a crucial factor in healing wounds. In an instant, his apprehension creeps in, and suddenly, he feels small. The memories of you are forever intertwined with the rest of his friends, memories too painful to endure.

Your hand reaches out for his face but he staggers back in his step.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He doesn’t mean it. Remus really wants you here. To feel your warmth, your touch, the smell of your hair and to hold you but he sees the way you bring your arm down to your side, shoulders slump in near defeat. In reality, you would never let him go that easily.

“Don’t say that, Remus.”

The crinkle of your eyes is gone, now sharp with the frustration of his tendency of locking himself away from the world out of paranoia. It’s been a minute since you’ve seen his face after three long years and he’s already trying to chase you away.

Typical Remus.

An odd sense of nausea takes over him, knees buckling as his surroundings begin to spin like he is on a sailing boat at sea. His body is frail and with a blow, he will fall. His eyes are trained on you as he feels his feet give way and his body drifting towards the ground. Just then, he feels your touch, arms around him like an embrace. You’re holding him in his weakened stance, stabilizing his balance by moving his arm to hang around your shoulder. He immediately shifts his weight on you, uttering a soft apology.

“You don’t have to apologize for something you can't control.” Your voice is soothing, speaking so close to his ear. Your tone is laced with knowing and care. You both know those words have been articulated from your very lips many times before. And your hands are gentle upon the curve of his waist, against the rough material of a dress shirt but your grasp is strong—the true touch of a healer’s hands, precise and careful. Remus always knew you would turn to become a highly-skilled healer.

With every cautious step, the creaks of the parquet flooring are loud and lasting. It’s as if the house itself cries for its condition, like a child with a wound to their knee after taking a nasty fall. The wailing wind outside doesn’t help with the fact that everything seems to be falling apart.

You guide him to the armchair by the fireplace, pressing him by the shoulders to sit. He plops onto the chair with a heavy sigh and feels a sense of regret sinking in his chest at the sight of the visible scowl of your lips and the turn of your brows.

Your open palm finds his cheek. He hears the drag of your deep exhale. You don’t say anything, only to pull out your wand from your back pocket. Yet, Remus is quick to grab your hand, halting you in your movement. Your frown a little deeper, sharp eyes finding him.

“Just let me heal you. It’s the least I can do.”

It’s a promise, a vow, uttered from your very lips filled with dignity and hope. So, he lets you, just to feel you close to him.

—

The rain is yet to arrive. Thunder booming through rolling clouds above and still not a single drop of rain but there’s a peak of sunlight between the cracks of the storm. Maybe, it’s because you’re here and sunshine always seems to trail your steps, no matter where they lead.

Now, Remus is seated on the toilet seat facing you, who has settled for a shaky stool to perch on as your gentle hands hold the edge of his jaw while the other grips onto a straight razor, gazing along the cheek. He cannot take his eyes off the crease between your brows and the way your eyes slowly shift along with the moving blade.

Magic is meant for convenience in small but necessary tasks like these yet you insisted on doing it in the traditional muggle way—using your fingers. Your hands work wonders, beautifully moving as a paraclete. You hold him like you’re maintaining his strength, to keep from fracturing into pieces. You look at him like he’s your masterpiece, carving every curve and bend of his skin and structure.

You lift the blade away from his face, dabbing it onto a rag cloth hung by the sink. Remus finally finds the time to speak. “You don’t have to do this.” You simply laugh and it comes out like a puff of air. Your eyes are still trained on cleaning off the razor. “Of course, I don’t. But, I also don’t want you competing with Dumbledore’s beard.”

Remus laughs, truly laughs. It’s loud and echoes within the walls of the tiny toilet. “I could never beat him.” You’re laughing too, grin wide as ever. Then, after a beat of silence, your grin suppresses into a small smile, lips pressed together as you place the razor aside. You’re clearly in deep thought.

“Come away with me.”

Remus blinks. “What?”

You turned to him, eyes glinting with expectancy. “Stay with me. I live a few blocks from St Mungos...and you get to see me at work.” You watch how his mouth is now agape, half of his chin still in shaving cream.

“And I’m sure you look magnificent in green but you know I can’t—”

“You can, Remus. You can come here a week before the full moon and then come back to my place. I’ll help you heal, a lot faster and you know that’s true. Maybe, I could get hold of aconite for Wolfsbane at the hospital— ”

You hadn’t realized your rambling until Remus began to shake you by the shoulders, calling out your name with an odd sense of serenity and hint of urgency for you to stop. So, your words immediately halt with a turn of your head to meet his gaze. Your expression is soft. His hand drifts to yours, holding it in his. “You know I can’t because if they find out you are living with someone with lycanthropy, you will lose your job and I don’t want you to lose it for my sake,” he squeezes your hand with assurance. “But, thank you. Thank you for always being so kind to me.”

The candle flickers from behind you, sitting idly on the ceramic shelf above the sink. No sunlight beaming through the room and only the hues of flame, beginning to shrink with the melting of its wax. Your hair presents an illusion of golden threads against the candlelight, face as warm as your hand on his as you shift your fingers to the back of his palm. Gradually, you sigh whilst raising his palm to you and press your lips to the arch of his hand. It’s quick but affectionate.

Your stare is strong and his heart stutters for the millionth time since your arrival.

Remus is drawn to you and the thought of how your lips should be on his. He drifts closer, eyes roaming your face, feeling your breath against his skin.

“Can I kiss you?” your question is soft, a whisper, only for his ears. A secret so sacred that you’re afraid nature would hear the words of your confession that was solely reserved for your mind and the man you are confessing to. He nods, it’s slight but it’s true, feeling like this is all a dream. He doesn’t want you to dream anymore. For you are here, hand tangled in his, thinking about his lips on yours.

Then, he whispers as the candle flickers once more. “Kiss me so I can feel alive again.”

So, you do. You kiss him, gentle and sweet, your hand still in his.

#happy 1000!#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #the marauders #marauders #harry potter #harry potter imagine #marauders x you #marauders imagine

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s-brant · 3 years

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Pirates and Princesses (8/8)

(gif: @beccs) (PART SEVEN) (SERIES MASTERLIST)

Summary: JJ must confront his childhood trauma when returning home for the first time since his dad went to jail and prevent it from sabotaging his new relationship. Meanwhile, something sinister happens at the Chateau that brings Y/N face to face with her grief over John B’s death.

Word Count: 13.4k

Warnings: Angst, implied sexual content, strong language, parent/child abuse, mental illness, post-traumatic stress disorder, grief, and fluff.

A/N: Welcome to the final chapter of Tokens! This one has a little bit of everything in it, but it also has detailed scenes about JJ and his dad, so proceed with caution if you’re easily triggered by that topic. The love you guys show this fic warms my heart so much, so thanks to anyone who stuck with this story until this chapter. Hope you enjoy it!

Now that she has been sentenced to both punishments, one as a consequence of the fight with Kacey and the other as a consequence of the stunt she pulled with JJ to break out of ISS, Y/N can confidently say that out of school suspension is superior to in-school suspension by a long shot. Instead of sitting in a humid room with Alec for the duration of multiple school days, she's allowed to stay home, go out surfing, and do whatever she wants in lieu of doing classwork.

She promised herself not to make it a habit, promising the invisible presence of John B that she likes to pretend follows her around that she will never get herself into trouble again, but she sees no problem in enjoying her suspension while it lasts.

For the first few days of her suspension, JJ skipped school to spend it with her. Their memories of the conversation they had at three in the morning on Sunday were fuzzy, but not missing entirely. She noticed a difference in his behavior for the first few hours after they woke up under the tree together for the second time in one week. It wasn't a difference in their relationship or how he treated her, it was a difference in him.

He was quieter than usual as they cleaned up cans of beer and tossed them into the recycling, sending pictures to Kie while she was in class after she made them promise not to throw them in the trash. Rather than cracking jokes or making casual conversation with her, JJ made his way around the yard with the recycling bin in his hands and his head in the clouds. It disappeared as the day progressed, but for a little while, he wasn't completely there.

Today, he went into school instead of ditching to spend extra time with her in between shifts at work and time spent with their friends. Since they can't exceed three consecutive absences without a doctor’s note and he doesn't own a printer or laptop to forage the header from a doctor's office, he had no choice but to part from her this morning.

He bites his lip to contain his smug facial expression at the recollection of her wake up call for him. The hand holding his locker door open for him to lean on in the midst of his not-so-wholesome thoughts of her squeezes the metal hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

The curtains weren't shut all the way when they fell asleep before midnight last night, allowing a shaft of sunlight to shine in and land on his face. But that wasn't what woke him up from the dream he was having. In fact, the reality he opened his eyes to was a hell of a lot better than any dream he remembered.

Most of his memory of those moments spent suspended between consciousness and unconsciousness consisted of feeling her pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then her hands rubbing up and down his waist to slip lower and lower until they settled on the waistband of his underwear. It was then that he woke to find her looking up at him for permission from where she peppered kisses along his chest.

Their eyes met right as she kissed the edge of his nipple with this pleading, needy look that he took pride in causing without actively attempting to. She woke up on the brink of coming undone from a pleasant—to put it tamely—dream about him. With a glimpse at the time displayed on the alarm clock, it didn't take much for her to roll over to wake him up.

It ended with her beneath the sheet, finishing what she started Friday afternoon until he was clutching the pillow beneath his head in the midst of his orgasm. It happened so fast, a fault of how hot he found it to wake up to her wanting him so badly, but it felt slower than it truly was in the early morning haze of exhaustion they felt.

The memory as he relives it is as heady as it felt the first time around. He sees it in fractions; her eyes looking up at his, warm palms finding the familiar planes of his muscular body with the exploratory touch of someone who's never traveled it before, and the intense sensations he felt at the end...It's easy for him to stand here and lose himself in it. Despite the class he has to go to, he bargains with himself for one more second spent in the paradise of his memories before he has to come back to reality.

Reality, as his shitty luck would have it, comes in the form of a familiar feminine voice chirping from behind his back as he replays his morning bliss.

"It's good to see you're alive and well, Maybank."

He decides, based on who he knows he'll see when he turns around, that he might invest in a sharpie to write "Bang head here" on the inside of his locker door for instances like these where he'd rather suffer brain damage than speak to someone he can't stomach the presence of.

When he turns to see Kacey with one arm still stretched to hold his locker open, he doesn't bother concealing the genuine reaction from his face for the sake of her feelings. Any care he had for her and her feelings was thrown to the wind as soon as she decided she could steal from and put her hands on his girl last week. However, after a second of thought, a condescending smirk finds its way to his face.

He says, jerking his chin to vaguely gesture at her bruised up face, "Purple really suits your complexion. It makes your eyes pop, don't you think?"

Though the swelling of her black eye has deflated in the days since the fight that’ll soon tally up to a week, the verbal jab hits right where it intended to if the light leaving her eyes tells him anything. She bounces back after a second, though, ever the relentless pest they've come to see her as.

She offers a sickeningly sweet, yet fake smile to mirror the one gracing his striking features and spins so her back meets the locker beside his, allowing herself to invade his space further.

A collection of Y/N's stickers decorates the inside of his locker door that he briefly entertained the idea of designating as a place to bang his head against. They range from girly, glittery ones to those he willingly picked when she gave him the choice. Whenever they're at his locker together, she sticks one on the inside, and the evidence of the habit catches Kacey's wandering eyes.

Her fingertips brush against the surface of the sticker-covered metal while she ignores his protest of, "Can you not touch my stuff?" to inspect them. Since one of the Pogues in particular is famous for her endless supply of stickers, her expression sours at the thought of the girl responsible for them.

She spares him a quick glance out of the corner of her eye as she continues to analyze the sticker collection against his instructions not to, asking, "Why weren't you at the bonfire?" A failed attempt at a seductive look in his direction makes him fight not to roll his eyes. "After how last year's ended, I thought you wouldn't miss it for the world."

JJ doesn't bother to take a second to think things through before he reaches to slam the door closed with her hand still outstretched inside of it. Watching her pull it away just in time to avoid jamming it in the locker probably pleases him more than it should, but he can't help it. His hand catches on the edge of the door, halting it in place right before it closes where her hand previously rested.

She doesn't look too happy with him when he opens the door with no harm done except for the drop of her stomach when he initially pretended to swing it shut on her bruised knuckles. She didn't get many shots in on Y/N when they fought, but apparently it was enough.

He doesn't bother with the fake niceties she's giving him after the disrespect she showed him, his friends, and, most importantly, his girlfriend. The fact that she thinks she has any right to breathe in his direction, let alone flirt with him, after she stole JB's bandana is criminal. 'Cause not only did she mess with Y/N, she messed with John B on multiple levels, and his loyalty to his best friend hasn't disappeared with death. Kie and Y/N told him everything she said about their departed friend in the locker room last Thursday.

But he's smart enough to know what'll hurt her more, so he doesn't go for the general scolding he imagined giving her in his head. Since he was told everything about the encounter in the locker room, he knows she's still holding their history together near and dear to her heart.

"We stayed home," he says, casual and cool as always, with added emphasis on the first word, "You know how it is, my girl doesn't like parties. Especially not ones with kooks."

Hook, line, and sinker.

She scoffs, "Your girl?"

Looking at her now, he wonders if she was always this stupid, or if this is a new development she's had in the year since he last spent more than a minute or two at a time with her. It’s easier to trick her than it was with Kie and Y/N a few days ago, and those poor girls flew into that trap like moths to a flame.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

The ire is visible in the way her face tenses up in places, her lips pressing together a little more firmly and her forehead creasing between the brows.

"Doesn't your, um, history bother her?" she asks, and he's gotta give her credit for being a sneaky little shit when given the chance. The girl takes every possible opening she can to strike for a potential weakness. "No offense, but you kinda get around."

He shrugs this time, deciding to drop his casual act and aim straight for the jugular.

"She likes having someone who knows how to fuck her right, actually, but I really appreciate the concern."

Much like Kie's reaction to their matching tattoos in the hot tub the other night, her jaw is unhinged to meet the unswept hallway floor they stand on. It makes him wish Y/N weren't suspended in order for her to see the gobsmacked reaction Kacey has to the harsh dismissal. Though he wouldn't want to incite an extra round of the Kacey vs Y/N WWE showdown by having her watch another girl flirt with him and essentially call him a slut upon rejection, he knows she'd get a kick out of it.

This one's for you, baby, he thinks with a quiet laugh to himself and turns his focus to the sticker collection she so lovingly crafted.

There are plenty of summer themed ones left over from the same pack he gifted her for her birthday with the surfboard sticker she used to tease him, as well as a newer genre of Valentine's Day stickers she started using the closer they grew since first getting together. They're mostly different colored candy hearts with corny phrases ranging from "U SXY THING" to the classic "BE MINE" and one printed with "ANGEL" on it—his favorite by far.

However, others are random ones from her endless stash built up over the years from birthdays and holidays deemed worthy enough by her dad to stop by Dollar Tree for a new pack, so the one he sets his attention on is likely meant for teachers or coaches to give to their students. The opportunity appears too good to be true to him when it clicks, but it isn't.

He peels the sticker off of the locker door, careful not to disturb the ones around it, and leans in closer to her to place it on the front of her tank top.

"Leave us alone or I won't stop her next time," JJ says lowly, past the point of civility, then backs away to slam his locker shut for real this time as his voice raises back to a normal volume, "And keep John B's name out of your mouth, got it?"

All she can do is look down at the sticker placed on her shirt with squinted eyes to try and read it while he walks off in the direction of his next class. It tears away from the fabric with a soft noise, and when she finally reads it, she rolls her eyes.

“Good Try!”

Walking out of school to see the Twinkie parked in the usual spot Y/N takes when she isn't suspended is a delightful treat he didn't know to expect after a rough day in class and his run in with Kacey. His head was hung low on his way to Kie's car to hitch a ride to his house before going home to the Chateau, since he had some things to pick up with his dad out of the picture for the near future, but then he heard her greet them.

JJ's body melts into hers upon contact, and he nearly pushes her up against the closed passenger side door of the van with how hard he hugs her. Though he doesn't want to acknowledge it, his dad has been living in his thoughts more than usual today. Ever since he texted him goodbye, he's been withdrawn inside of his head more and more, and after today's inconveniences, the rising anxiety of his plan to visit home has him two seconds from losing his mind.

Her eyes widen at his zeal, meeting Kie's concerned gaze from over the shoulder she rests her chin on. She stands with her keys swinging around her finger as she watches the couple embrace one another. In an answer to the silent question Y/N asks her in their stare, her lips mouth the words, "His dad," to her.

Deep down, Y/N had a feeling.

It began with his impromptu request to run away with her a few days ago and extended into his uncharacteristically reserved attitude the next morning that receded somewhat, but has yet to fully disappear. There is a part of her that's upset that he hasn't come to her to talk about it, to communicate the way they swore they would, yet she also knows it isn't that simple.

She has to remind herself that she knew what she was getting herself into with him. That's not to say that dating her must be a walk in the park for him, it isn't.

She knows based on the amount of times he had to hold her as she cried, or the time he curtailed her panic attack in this very parking lot, that she hasn't made it easy for him in the aftermath of John B's death. But it's because she knows how it feels that she has such patience with his communication issues.

It's not a conscious choice most times, it's an involuntary blockage preventing the words from being spoken no matter how desperately they long to be. They may have made a promise, but she won't chastise him for succumbing to the same pitfalls as her. It’d be hypocritical.

"Bad day?" she asks.

Her voice is tender with him, prodding gently for a clue as to why he pounced on her on sight. He sinks further into her arms at the sound and lets the sanctity of her touch sway him into submission. Everything about her sets him at ease, if only for a second. Her hand lifts the beat-up red hat from his head to allow the other to brush through his hair.

There's a hum of agreement that she feels vibrating through the center of his chest into hers, and her arms pull tighter around his shoulders in response. This time, when she looks up to see Kie there, she's waving a quick goodbye and setting off toward her car, clearly giving JJ the space he needs.

"We can go to the beach," she says softly, "I have a towel in the back of the van, we can just lay there and talk about it if you want."

The idea of her kind offer to him should add to the comfort he finds in her embrace. It should make him nod and whisper his gratitude to her for being the one person that knows him better than anyone, but it brings him back to the gloomy headspace he was in before seeing her.

It started as a minor distraction when he first arrived at school after carpooling with Kie. It followed him in the quieter moments, only making appearances when he wasn't distracted with more pressing matters. It began as that and built the closer the day came to ending. The sooner his inevitable visit back to his childhood home came, the more he lost himself in his fear, reverting back to a state of helplessness he now occupies with no small amount of shame.

His bottom lip trembles with the urge to cry.

"Can we stop somewhere on the way home first?"

The last place she expected him to drive the Twinkie is here.

As they made their way down each street, taking each turn necessary to bring them closer to the house he seldom let her go to over the course of their lifelong friendship, she felt her heart begin to race. And now, as the van rolls to a stop in the yard in front of his house, she has swallow back the lump in her throat at the sight of it.

She has only been here a few times.

The first time, she was seven years old.

It was a sweltering summer morning in the Outer Banks for her and John B as they set off to retrieve their friend after he missed their plans to meet up at the Chateau for a day of having fun, riding bikes, and playing on the boat. Pirates and Princesses was her favorite game to play with them because JJ would switch roles with her halfway through when she grew tired of being the damsel John B had to rescue from the most cruel and vicious Captain Jesse James Maybank.

The HMS Pogue would rock beneath his feet as he marched across the deck of the boat and took her place as the kidnapped Princess Routledge. He handed off his "sword" to her, a stick he found in the yard, and stood at the edge of the boat with his hands behind his back as though he were a tied up damsel in distress for her to hold captive. The sun setting behind them laid a picturesque backdrop that made the scene all the more vivid to their imaginative young minds.

The boat floated in the afternoon current as John B approached the pair with his best pretend face of worry for the fair Princess Maybank, who had the sharp sword of the pirate queen pressing into his throat with the threat of death should he have tried to escape.

Sometimes, she'd let John B advance on them and tie make believe rope around her wrists and ankles while he and Princess Maybank claimed their victory. Other times, they'd get backed up until the heels of her sneakers hung off the edge of the slippery deck. One move from her brother would have her yell something along the lines of not taking either of them alive, then she'd let her and JJ fall back into the marsh together with gleeful laughs infiltrating the humid air upon their return to the surface.

On the day he didn't show up, none of that happened. She and John B rode their bikes together along sidewalks until they pulled into a driveway marked with the address number he remembered from the other time he sought him out to play before.

Y/N didn't understand what they were hearing when they pushed their kickstands down and called out for their friend, but John B's little face blanched at the sound flooding out of the opened windows of the dilapidated yellow house. It was a combination of banging against the walls, glass shattering, and childlike shouts of frustration and pain. Her big brother placed himself in front of her protectively when the front door opened and smacked against the side of the house, but it wasn't his dad storming out of the house, it was JJ.

His eyes widened at the sight of the siblings standing there, and his heart dropped to his stomach at the realization that they heard it. Maybe not all of it, but based on how the girl peeking out around John B's shoulder looked at him, they heard some.

The van is parked in the exact same place their bikes once were, the exact place she and John B stood years ago when they were first confronted with the harsh reality about their best friend's home life, and he looks like he has fully backpedaled into the state of mind his childhood self inhabited. Even when he turns the key in the ignition and lets the rumbling engine sputter down in silence, he sits in the driver's seat with his lip drawn between his teeth in thought.

Yet as soon as she summons the courage to say something, he takes a deep breath and opens the door without a warning or the typical instruction for her to stay in the car. He doesn't tell her to follow him in, nor does he order her to stay out as he used to when his dad still lived inside. He gives her the choice to make on her own, and, when faced with the opportunity to support him or stay outside like the confused little girl she once was, she chooses the first option.

Her swift steps kick dirt up from the earth onto her ankles as she follows him out of the van to the front steps of the house. She tries not to make her concern for him as evident as it'd be without her intervention on her way up the porch, but it's impossible to erase every sign of it from her face.

It isn't a particularly special or scary house. It's a normal home that'd likely look more inviting if JJ were still living here to mow the lawn and tend to the household upkeep his father saddled him with since he was old enough to be put to work. But she knows better than to trust the street appeal. As he takes her hand to lead them through the threshold of the haunted structure, she is overcome with a sense of creeping trepidation that she can't shake.

"You're sure he isn't here?" she asks.

The entryway is crowded with stacks of mail his father wasn’t bothered to open, as well as empty cardboard boxes that once held cans of beer that are scattered, empty, in various places around the house. Her question is answered by the state of the rooms they breeze past in the direction of his bedroom, but she needed something to say to fill the silence. With them, they usually don’t feel uncomfortable not speaking to each other, but this feels different.

The way he stares out in front of him with his hand squeezing hers hard enough to cut off circulation unnerves her more than the tainted energy of the house itself. He isn't himself. He's a shell of the JJ they know and love, the JJ who is most comfortable tucked away in the safe walls of the Chateau with their friends, not here. If anything, how he is while he's here is the antithesis of his behavior while living with her.

Ever since John B died, he's practically moved in with her. When they're hidden away in her house without the reminders of his home life in sight, he's usually the caretaker of the relationship. It comes naturally to their dynamic, both with him being slightly older and his promise to take care of her, but everything is flipped here. It's an alternate reality for him, or, perhaps, actual reality smacking him in the face after a carefully constructed two months in utopia with her.

They come to a stop in front of his closed bedroom door.

"He's gone," he says, not even sparing a glance at her for reasons she can't decipher, "He texted me a few days ago to say goodbye."

With that, he turns the doorknob and lets the door swing open to reveal the bedroom she only saw one other time.

The second time, she was thirteen years old.

It was a Friday.

Since his dad was supposed to be at work, they stopped at his house on their way home from school exactly like they did today so he could share with their friends what he got from his cousin the night before. Being the good girl she was, she didn't even know what he was showing her when he dug it out of the backpack in the bottom of his closet.

Her brows furrowed at the ziploc bag, more specifically the contents inside of it. She was knelt down on the floor in front of the opened closet door with her shoulder pressed up against his to inspect it. The dried green cluster of a plant didn't look like anything she'd seen before, and she couldn't help but ask him what the hell it was rather than react the way he knew the others would.

"What is it? It looks like dried up moss."

JJ laughed and pulled another bag with rolling papers and a grinder stowed inside.

"It's weed. My cousin Ricky gave me a discount since—"

He halted mid-sentence abruptly enough to startle her, his head turning in the direction of where he heard a trunk pulling up to the front of the house. Her stare was still set on where he was holding the plastic bags in his hands, and she noticed, after he stopped speaking in reaction to his dad coming home, that his hands began trembling. It was so minimal, she almost didn't catch it until she saw the bag wavering under the light coming in from his window.

Before she could open her mouth to say anything more, she felt his hands on her shoulders shoving her into the closet. He followed in closely behind her and crawled in until they were both crammed into the confined space together. With the closet doors shut in front of them, he clamped a hand over her mouth, whispering in her ear for her to be quiet.

She stands with her arms crossed over herself in the center of his room, and though nothing has yet to be said or done to convince her anything is wrong, that's the exact reason why she feels so unnerved by the entire experience of coming here.

He's silent.

The closet doors are wide open as he stuffs the rest of the clothes he had yet to bring to the Chateau into the biggest bag he could find. He rips through his belongings in a fit of melancholy driven anger. His thoughts are swirling with similar memories to the ones she conjures from being here again, but his are tinged with a darkness hers don't have, even with hearing him crying in pain as a child and hiding in the closet with his hand smothering her mouth to evade his dad.

JJ visibly grimaces at the memories he's forced to relive in flashes with every glimpse he gets of the room he spent so much time hiding in. It used to be more tolerable to be here, or at least easier to suffer through. At least he was used to it before, but he got so accustomed to life somewhere else that the second he was confronted with coming back, he started to fall apart.

Whatever he can't live without, he finds space for it in the bag and prepares to leave the rest behind. But every object he touches and step he takes around the room brings him back to the person who he spent his adolescence simultaneously fleeing and wanting more from. More notably, it brings him back to the train of thought that has been nagging him ever since he texted him over the weekend.

The third and final time she came here was over the summer.

It happened right before Hurricane Agatha waged war on the island, when none of the Pogues heard from JJ for two days after he said he had to go home to help his dad with something. She didn't want to track him down to his house after they went over twenty-four hours without a single message. She didn't want to have to go back to the house that gave her chills to think about, let alone go to again after they hid in his closet when they were younger, but he gave her no other choice.

What was she supposed to do except go check on him where he last said he'd be? After all, if she lived in the hazardous environment he did, he'd do the exact same for her. If their friends were involved in her thoughts at the time, they would've gone out on a limb to say he would've gone beyond what she did to protect her if the situation were flipped. If he knew someone was hurting her, he would've come in swinging first and asked questions later, but, in her defense, he strictly told her to never come back to his house. By walking over in the first place, she was breaking one of the fundamental rules of their friendship.

Nevertheless, she found herself crouching around the side of his house to find his bedroom window and check if he was in there. Kie and Pope weren't aware of what was happening with his dad yet, but she and John B accidentally found out years ago, so she wasn't wondering why he wasn't answering them, she was wondering if he was alive.

Part of her truly thought underneath it all that Luke might've killed him. He might've been too drunk or high and went too far when beating him, too far to the point where he didn't want to risk going to jail to take him to the hospital for help. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't check, and if he got pissed at her for showing up against his wishes and didn't want to speak to her ever again, she could live with that.

She knocked on his window in a cadenced beat loud enough for it to heard through the room but not any further. After the first series of knocks, no one came to the window. It ripped her heart to pieces to wonder if she'd see him again as she continued to knock and allowed the sound to increase in volume in hopes that maybe he was asleep, but it didn't bring anyone to the window.

It wasn't until she turned back around to go to the front of the house again that she bumped right into the solid wall of his chest and was pushed back up against the house. The question of what she was doing there was on the tip of his tongue, but she said something that stopped him from asking it.

Her arms were thrown around his shoulders in a desperate bear hug.

"Oh God, JJ, you scared me half to death!" she cried into the front of his shirt, "I thought he killed you!"

He can't help but think of it as he packs his belongings away for a final time to bid his hellish childhood home goodbye: What kind of life are they going to have together if they can't get off this island? Running away may have been an idealistic drunken fantasy for him to entertain after his conversation with Pope got him to admit his true feelings for her, but they both know his consistency can't be trusted.

One moment, he's planning to tell her. The next, a day like today comes along, sweeps his legs out from beneath his body, and he's questioning whether it's worth it to force her to put up with his fickle commitment to her. It isn't fair to her, is it?

Right now is just about when he'd normally start to hyperventilate with an oncoming wave of panic, and he does, but he can't let it fully sweep into him with her here. He fights the urge to smack his head with the heel of his palm, as if that'd forcibly remove the poisonous thoughts infiltrating his mind and ruining the careful work they've done together to remedy their issues with communicating their feelings.

Just like you ruin everything, a thought whispers in the corner of his mind. What made you think this would be any different?

His actions around the room have turned somewhat aimless and distracted, which she notices as soon as he starts to disintegrate into a mess of heavy breaths and self-sabotaging thoughts. She picks up on the shift in his energy as soon as the anxiety starts to wash over him, and she'll be damned if she continues to stand here quietly to let it happen.

It's one thing if he's being silent because being here upsets him, or if he simply doesn't know what to say, but she refuses to let him tailspin into a mental breakdown without doing something to stop it. Whether he knows it or not, after what they went through with him trying to push her away last week, she knows what's occurring within his mind right now.

He flinches at the feeling of her hand grabbing his shoulder to turn him to face her at first, and when she reaches again with her other hand to try to hold his hand as he cries, he shrugs off her touch.

"JJ..." she lets the solemn sound of her own voice murmuring his name trail off, "it's just me."

His head shakes at her consoling words. Everything else inside of his mind is so earth-shatteringly loud, he can't drown it out with logic or reason to bring himself away from the memories of his dad. Those intrusive thoughts keep attacking him with doubled, then tripled force the harder he tries to resist them, and he's so exhausted from it. All of it—the memories, his dad going to jail, and his inability to accept her love to its fullest extent without convincing himself she'll abandon him—is exhausting.

This time, when she rests her hand on his shoulder, he swats it away as the frustration of today crushing him with the force of an avalanche. Not to hurt or scare her, but to get her hands off of him before he bursts out of his skin with the sickness it stirs in his stomach. So detached from himself, he anticipates pain from every touch she gives him, and he knows it hurts her.

JJ hardly recognizes his own voice as he backs away from her a step and says, "Don't."

He can tell it hurts her based on how she looks at him immediately after, but he can't handle being touched right now. How did this happen so quickly? It was overwhelming when they first parked outside, but as soon as he stepped foot inside, it was as if a switch was flipped inside of him and all of the buried feelings he kept hidden over the past two weeks exploded into this.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You need to leave. I just-I can't breathe and"—He still refuses to look up from the ground or see her face as he paces around the room with no real intent in mind—"You can't see me like this."

That is what breaks her out of her soft spoken, timid attitude to handle the situation the way it needs to be handled. Their natural dynamic worked best for him to take charge when she had her panic attack because JJ acts first and thinks later. He saw that she was in distress and jumped in to help her before things got worse rather than allowing her to keep him at an arms length where he couldn't do anything about it.

Taking a page from his rule book, she takes action.

The room surrounding them is in a state of disarray from him searching through it for the items of clothing and objects now stashed in his duffel bag. There are multiple obstacles in her way as she steps between them like navigating a minefield to reach him after he backed away in instinctual fear, but they don't stop her from reaching him. Nothing could.

Y/N walks right up to him and reaches to grasp his face between her hands, forcing him to stop pacing around and actually look at her for the first time since they arrived her so he hears what she says. To say the least, the way he looks right now is enough to make her cry. There are tears welled up to the brims of his blue eyes, his lips are downturned with his sobs, and he's staring at her like she's about to strike him.

She says it as slowly and clearly as she needs to get it through his head, "He's not here," and before he manages to squeeze out another word of doubt between his rapid inhalations, she cuts in, "Take deep breaths."

He isn't listening to her.

The movement of his chest that hits hers from how close they stand to each other has yet to settle into the familiar pace she remembers from nights of falling asleep with the rhythm of his breaths beneath her head.

Her eyes search his face frantically, from left to right and top to bottom, for any sign of the person she's known for years, but she doesn't see him. Instead, she sees the same panicked child her and John B saw the first time they visited this house. It's uncanny how similar the expression in his face is. It feels to her as if she's been hurled back in time to the moment itself, and when she tries to think about what would've worked with him back then, she doesn't know what else to do except help him escape.

So, with the helplessness of having to watch him turn into a sobbing, incoherent mess, she decides to step into the darkness with him and do what seven year old Y/N would've done. Just like their games of make believe, of pirates and princesses, she assumes the role John B would have and rescues him from what holds him captive. It’s his own mind in this case, but, in the physical sense, it's the house.

She drops her hands from his face and takes his hand in hers to drag him out of the room. The packed bag sits on the floor in their wake as she pulls him back through the bedroom door and into the living room, not caring about what they came here to do.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The various rooms of his dad's house pass by them in a blur as she leads him down the hallway to the front door with one sole objective in mind: get him out of here. If he wants his stuff to bring back to the Chateau, she'll go back inside and get whatever he needs her to, but she isn't letting him inside of this house again. Not under her watch.

Thankfully, since he is undeniably stronger than her and she wouldn't have stood a chance, he doesn't fight it. He stumbles after her guiding hand the same way he always has, just like how he followed her back to the Chateau after she and John B saw him that day when they were kids. She led the way as he sat on the handlebars of her brother's bike, and he watched her hair flutter in the wind with the momentum of their bicycle spokes until the tears dried up.

He watches her drag him out of the home until they've reached the safety of the yard at the bottom of the porch steps, and as soon as the soles of her shoes meet the dirt, she feels his hand slipping out of hers.

"JJ?"

She turns around to see him clutching his chest, rubbing his hand along the front of his shirt over his heart as though it'll loosen up the tightened muscles preventing him from catching his breath. His body weight is leaned onto the railing of the porch steps for support. He's partially slumped on it, looking at her desperately, like she somehow knows the answer to every question screamed inside of his head, and she has never felt as useless.

"You're gonna leave," JJ says through the gasps and cries that leave his cheeks stained with tears.

When she reaches out again to help him remain upright without leaning over the railing, he doesn't shove her hands away as he did inside of his bedroom. It's a small battle won, but she takes it as a win nonetheless.

"What are you saying? I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere—"

"You're gonna leave! Everybody does! My mom, John B, my dad, and you"—his head falls to look at the ground instead of her, and she watches him work through it in his head—"I mean, look at me. You don't want this."

"Don't tell me what I want," she says.

Her voice remains as steady and calm as she can force it to be amidst the turbulent situation, but the way he said it...It takes her right back to sitting in the back of the Twinkie with him at the Cherry Bowl, except it's ten times worse. That felt like a break up, but based on what he's saying, this is one. She hasn't prepared herself for the heartache she feels in response to it.

"You don't want me, you just think you do 'cause I was there after John B died, but you don't. You're gonna go off, find some perfect guy that isn't as fucked up as me, and have a great life somewhere else, but it ain't here," JJ says, his breathing evening out with the distraction of the argument to keep him tethered tor reality, "And it won't be with me."

He can see it every time he's looked at her and debated saying those three titular words that have been floating around in his head since he first met her.

How could she want someone who can't walk into his childhood bedroom without breaking down, or someone who still has years-old scars from cigarette burns on his skin when she touches him? Her bright future contrasted with his pre-designated fate on the Cut, her personality better matched with someone more similar to her, her life continuing on whether he's there or not—it's his worst nightmare, but he's prepared to see it through.

What he doesn't expect is for her to hold her ground.

"You honestly think I'm buying into that bullshit?" she asks.

"What?"

She doesn't put it softly, she states facts with as much harshness as his cruel fantasy had, "You're trying to push me away and I won't let you."

Her typically sweet, soft features have hardened into a bitter expression he's sure he mirrors. The arms holding his waist to keep him upright move to climb up his chest and cup his face between her hands with all of the gentleness her face and voice don't have right now.

She sees right through him.

When he tries to look away again, to avert his eyes to make what he's trying to do easier on himself by not having to look at her when he does it, her grasp on his face holds firm. Her hands guide his chin back up so they're face to face, and he realizes what a mistake everyone makes in assuming her this dainty, broken girl whose only source of strength came from the brother she lost. She's a forest fire.

"You're not hearing what I'm saying—"

Y/N interjects, "I am hearing what you're saying, I'm just saying it's bullshit."

She refuses to let him off the hook, and though it frustrates him on the surface, deep down, it makes him fall in love with her all over again. Her insistence against his speech about her leaving him proves him wrong more than anything else could, 'cause he gave her the perfect chance to dip and she shot it down instantly.

The house looms behind them as a menacing presence that threatens to take control of him again, but she doesn't let it. She keeps his eyes on her no matter how many times he tries to look away and doesn't let anything get in the way of what she says next.

"You think that if you push me away and get me to leave you right now, it'll hurt less than it would if I did it later, and I don't accept that. I won't take the bait and let you torture yourself anymore, okay? I can't speak for anyone else, but I know I'll never leave you. Not willingly, anyway."

She looks into his eyes, and this time its softer, more loving, and he's never felt as understood as he does when she continues to speak.

"I'm in love with you. Whether it scares you or not, it's the truth, and I'll never stop saying it. If you think that your issues with your dad are gonna change that for me, you've officially lost your mind." Their noses brush as she leans in to ghost a kiss over his mouth and pulls away a second later to whisper, her forehead pressed to his, "I love you, JJ. Stop being so stubborn and just let me."

His next breath in trembles as he lets her words sink in, and he's stuck at a crossroads inside of himself without a clue of what to do.

The breeze blows her hair away from her face, the afternoon sunshine painting her golden, and when he sees her hair flutter in the air like it did so many years ago, he can't help but feel as calm as he did during their bike ride home. The further away he got from his dad and the house where it all happened, the calmer he grew, and it hits him at this moment that he's so taken aback by her confession to him, he forgot why he was so upset.

It's sobering. The intoxication of his panic hurtled him back in time to the frightened, childlike state of mind his dad's violent abuse often sent him to, but it was hearing her say those words he's feared for weeks that brought him back. Like the jolt of a defibrillator, he's roused back to life with more clarity than before.

She loves him, but, perhaps more importantly, she said she'd never leave him, and that is what he needed to hear more than anything. That is the statement worth more to him than the four letter word he has agonized over endlessly. No one else every attached the promise of "I love you" with the stipulation of it lasting forever. They said the empty words and contradicted it with their actions, but she hasn't done that. Her actions spoke the words long before her mouth did.

He sighs.

It's a deep, yearning sigh that sends him melting into her with the acceptance of what he's denied for too long. He savors the hands cradling his head, as well as the body pressed up against his that he has memorized down to every beauty mark and imperfection, and makes the right choice.

It isn't like it was the night at the Cherry Bowl, or the night he spoke to Pope about it. It still takes more bravery than he possesses to form the words, but there isn't a physical incapability stopping him anymore. It's just him against the trauma beckoning him into its trap again, and he won't let it lure him back into that house.

"Alright," JJ says to her through a sniffle in acceptance to her command, as if he were agreeing on afternoon surfing plans rather than something as monumental as allowing someone to love him, then continues onto with a timid tone, "I love you too."

Before he can watch for her reaction, she's surging forward through the few inches of space left between them to connect their lips in a kiss.

It's vastly different to the kiss they shared in the hallway at school last Friday. In contrast to that one, the reigning emotion within him that drives the kiss after the hesitant beginning doesn't lead them into increased intensity, it gets gentler. It doesn't explode into chaos and passion, it's a tired kiss that he never wants to retreat from. It's the physical manifestation of his feelings for her underneath the guarded exterior he uses to protect himself: gentle and yielding, yet undeniably powerful.

He feels her smiling through her tears against his mouth. In the face of everything that happened this afternoon, he doesn't feel like he should be smiling back at her, but he does. He smiles while kissing her with tears streaming down his face, still reeling from his traumatic response to coming home for the final time, and wonders how a person can feel such contradicting emotions all at once.

Y/N is the one who starts to pull away first, though it's only to check in on him. If she had it her way, she could stay here with him until the sun sets, but he did just come back from the brink of a full-blown panic attack, so she can't in good conscience ignore his well-being for the momentary bliss of their love confessions.

Her thumb brushes over his bottom lip, her smile drooping with worry as she asks, "Wanna spend the rest of the day on the boat? You always say being on the water makes you feel better. Maybe it'll make it easier to talk about it."

His Adam's apple bobs with how he swallows the lump in his throat.

"Can we maybe take baby steps for now? I don't think I can handle telling you all that shit yet."

It was already enough to allow her to follow him into the house, watch him break down into a fit of panic no one else has seen him in, and tell her he loved her, but it'd cross the line into uncharted territory to talk about everything between him and his dad so openly. Between the minor annoyance of dealing with Kacey to this hellish visit home, he thinks he's reached his quota on feeling uncomfortable today.

She nods in agreement.

"Baby steps."

Drawn back to each other by a force stronger than gravity, they collide again, but it isn't a kiss this time. It's a hug charged with all of the previously unspoken emotions they've buried inside of themselves for years, the same hug she gave him the last time she came to this house with the fear of his potential death lingering in her thoughts.

She throws herself at him with the same desperation she did that day and relishes the feeling of his muscular arms returning the embrace until their bodies are tangled together. She'd usually never refer to something as inherently affectionate as an embrace as violent, but it's the closest she can come to capturing how it feels as their bodies meet. It makes her lose her footing on the bottom step they stand on together, teetering on the edge she'd surely slip off of with the force if not for him keeping her steady.

He's about to say something, a thank you to her for calling him out on his bullshit and not letting him go that easily, when the grating sound of her ringtone blares from the back pocket of her denim shorts.

The contact popping up on the screen along with a series of frantic messages when she pulls away from him to answer shows Pope's name.

Pope You and JJ need to get back to the Chateau ASAP!!

The van doors slam shut behind Y/N and JJ as soon as it rolls to a stop in front of the Chateau.

Under the assumption that something dire happened, as in injury or death or catastrophic damage to the house itself, they bolted off of that porch faster than they knew they could move. She only turned back when she remembered the packed back of JJ's things they abandoned on his bedroom floor and, not wanting him to reenter the house, she brought it back to the Twinkie in record time.

They're preparing to trample up the porch into the house like a stampede of animals when they hear Kie calling them over to the backyard and change direction.

"No one's hurt!" she shouts, knowing that was likely where their minds went after everything they went through during the summer, "You have to see this though, I don't know who did it!"

Sticks and fallen leaves crunch beneath her feet on her way around the side of the house. Her mind races with the possibility of what could've happened that didn't hurt their friends but necessitated a series of texts and calls as frantic as the ones she received at JJ's house. She drove over here in defiance of the speed limit, something she rarely does, and prayed nothing terrible was happening.

It gave her flashbacks to when she found out John B and Sarah died in the storm. The pedal beneath her foot brought the van to an uncomfortably swift speed, then she remembered the sound of Shoupe's voice when he gave them the news. JJ warned her to slow down, then she remembered how it took multiple people to help her restrain him from attacking the new sheriff for letting his men drive their friends into their deaths.

At first, she doesn't realize what's wrong.

Kiara and Pope are standing and waiting for them across the grass near the large tree that sits as a centerpiece to their yard. Based on the body language screaming their frustration and the tears in their eyes, she can tell something bad did happen, but it's not clear what it is until she looks past them to the tree. More specifically, until she looks at what's on the tree.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

Her hand is already up to cover her mouth and conceal the instantaneous frown besmirching her previously relaxed face. They both are stopped in their tracks halfway to where their friends are standing, and she can’t hear JJ's reaction over the rising volume of her hysterical thoughts.

Spray painted in red on top of their memorial for John B are the words "COP KILLER" in bold letters that conceal what they burned into the tree trunk for his gravestone. It sticks out from the beauty of the greens, browns, blues, and swathes of other earthy tones composing the scenery around the Chateau like a thorn amongst flowers, so much so that she wonders how she didn't instantly see it when they rounded the corner to come back here.

Yet that isn't the only thing amiss in the peaceful sanctuary they call home, there are random things strewn around the ground around the tree. An old t-shirt spray painted with the word "murderer" on the front, four ripped up envelopes, and a gorgeous mahogany jewelry box...broken on the grass.

The freshly turned dirt they had the contents of the box buried beneath is scattered around the trashed area as well. It clicks with her a few seconds late that whoever came here to do this must have seen the pinwheel she put in the ground to mark the "grave" and dug it up to add insult to injury.

She moves forward without consciously realizing it and stumbles until she reaches the first object of the debris field. Before this, she was doing a masterful job of holding in her cries, but as soon as she crouches down to pick up the pieces of the jewelry box, the lid snapped clean off the hinges to separate it from the bottom section, it comes rushing out of her against her will. The first unrestrained keen is the first thing to snap JJ out of his shell shocked trance.

He walks after her as fast as his legs will take him without breaking into a run, but she isn't letting him get close before she puts the box back down and shuffles forward to collect the torn letter remains. She doesn't want them to get blown away by the wind anymore than they already might have been, so she scrambles to gather the pieces until they're cupped in her hands to protect them.

"Why?" she asks and looks up at Kie and Pope with tears dripping down her face, "Why would anyone do this? Who would do this?"

Pope says, "My guess is as good as yours. We didn't see anyone leaving when we got here, so it must've happened before school ended. This is all we saw before we called you guys."

For a second or two, JJ is grasping at straws for why this happened and who did it like the rest of them are, but then something Pope said makes it click into place. It sets off a domino effect in his mind as he brings back the memory of a certain offspring of satan being absent from gym this afternoon despite being at school earlier, since his encounter with her before Physics made him, unfortunately, aware of her existence again.

His face is set in anger, jaw clenching with the tension of him grinding his teeth together, and he takes his hat off to fidget with it between his hands for a second. Their friends are too focused on her crying to see him contemplating it, but as soon as he speaks, they look up to see him setting his hat back onto his head in preparation to leave and track Kacey down.

Y/N's head snaps up from the torn letters in her hands to the sight of him storming off across the yard with his only goodbye being the words, "I'm gonna kill that bitch."

Her and Pope stare after him in shock, unable to put the pieces together about who that "bitch" is, but Kie doesn't miss a single beat. While Y/N is crumpled over on the ground in tears, she's rushing after JJ before he can approach the bike parked in front of the house. He doesn't even make it five steps before he feels her hands latching onto his wrist to stop him.

She asks, "Who the hell are you talking about? And why would they do this?"

His eyes narrow at her. His unreleased frustration for the situation in general and having to watch Y/N cry after an emotional afternoon together comes rushing out when he snaps at her.

"Kacey. She talked shit at school and I put her in her place. Now, if you don't mind, I'm gonna pay her a little visit."

He yanks his arm sharply towards himself to free it from her grip, but she's a step ahead of him. Quicker than he can think to stop her, Kie swipes the keys hanging out of his back pocket away and throws them to Pope, who, bless his heart, can't catch to save his life. The key ring jingles with its contact at the dead center of his chest, and she mouths an apology to him before turning back to face JJ.

"What the fuck, Kie?"

He makes to stomp past her and retrieve the keys from Pope only to be stopped by her hands reaching out to grab his shoulders.

"Listen to me, you can't go anywhere. Look at her," she whispers lowly enough to keep Y/N from hearing, pointing behind her to where she sits on the ground with Pope knelt beside her, "I wouldn't put it past Kacey to pull a stunt like this. I'm just as mad as you, but revenge can wait and you know it. She needs you."

The fury visible in his expression is subdued by looking past Kie's shoulder to see Y/N crying softly to Pope about the vandalized memorial.

The last time he saw her so distraught over something, it was the day they made the memorial and buried the box in the first place. She sits on her knees with her mom's broken jewelry box between them, shuddering with the sobs she has no control over, and pours the torn paper into the empty bottom half of the box. Exhausted to the core, she looks more like a sullen, kicked puppy than she does herself.

It makes his anger-fueled instincts that urge him to hunt Kacey down and do something, anything he can to make her feel the pain they do right now bubble down into sorrow. It's visible in his eyes when he looks at her.

Kie knows she's gotten under his skin when he sighs, sparing a parting glance to the bike in the driveway, and nods once at her before setting off back to where they're sitting in the grass.

Meanwhile, Y/N is stuck staring down at the disarray of her backyard with nothing but pain aching through her to the bone.

Her brother did wrong things sometimes as a consequence of being human, but never this, never something worthy of having his name dragged through the mud and being branded a murderer after his death. He stole scuba gear from Ward and broke dozens of laws in their hunt for the gold, but he never crossed that line into moral bankruptcy. Rafe did, and it kills JJ to see someone like Kacey do this to his best friend while hanging off of Rafe and his friends like a leech.

The fabric of his worn t-shirt is tarnished by the dried paint clinging to the front of it to the spell the lie written there, and her vision blurs with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the span of an hour. First, it was JJ. Now, it's John B, and she can't help but wonder if the heartache will ever end. It began to feel better over the course of the week, her grief for him slowly beginning to slip from her mind until now. Until the storm clouds converged again to batter her with another wave of it.

Through the deafening volume of her mind racing with thoughts and feelings to process what's happened, she hears Pope shuffling around to stand on his feet. Then, another person sits down in his place and scoots closer until their bodies are touching, and she knows it's him. She doesn't have to wait to hear his voice or look to see his face, she can tell based on the feeling of his touch and the smell of him she's so intimately familiar with, yet couldn't describe it aloud if she tried.

He doesn't smother her. He sits close enough to touch her and doesn't push it any further.

The background of the pale, cloudless sky frames him in the foreground like the subject of a painting—a living, breathing painting that she could study endlessly. The other trees planted in the yard's leaves flutter distantly behind him and try to draw her gaze away, but she keeps her eyes on him.

Maybe that's how it is, she thinks.

Maybe it'll get better and worse in a dance that'll only stop when they're no longer here to agonize over it. Maybe this is what moving on from John B will always be like. It'll feel like they've made strides in the right direction, then something will come along to shatter it to sharp pieces that'll reopen their stitched up wounds. If that's the case, at least the four of them have each other to lean on when it gets worse again.

JJ sits with her and lets her crawl onto his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, until the sun sinks below the horizon.

The gentle bobbing of the HMS Pogue at the surface of the water steadies her amidst her eddying thoughts. It keeps her present to the moment the way the ropes tying the boat to the dock keeps it from floating adrift into the marsh. It's a motion engrained in her from the start of her life until now from countless days spent on the water. Whether it be for fishing, swimming, or playing make believe with her boys all those years ago, it's as much a part of her as her personality or body itself.

JJ was right about one thing: being out on the water makes it easier to think.

He hasn't followed her out since she woke up before sunrise and snuck out of bed to come here. Despite her efforts not to wake him, he woke up when she disentangled her body from his, silently cursing the fact that they always cuddle so closely, and he tried to pull her back to him with a whine of displeasure in his groggy, half-asleep state. Sleep finally found them after hours of staying up together to talk about what Kacey did, unable to relax from the chaos of yesterday, so he wasn't prepared to wake up that soon.

"Go back to sleep, angel," she whispered as she hovered over him, brushing a chaste kiss to his lips that he was too tired to return.

That was the last time she saw him since this morning, and now that the sun has risen to its peak in the sky without her moving an inch from her perch atop the bow of the boat, she's begun to wonder if he's awake yet. It isn't uncommon for them to sleep in for half of the day when there isn't school or work, so it isn't surprising to her that he's just now waking up when she hears the back door to the Chateau opening and closing.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ has been awake the entire morning since she left bed.

They were so attached to each other yesterday night, he didn't have the time to put it together without her seeing and ruining the surprise, but once he heard the door to the porch close to signify her leaving, he kicked the blankets off of himself and got to work. He wasn't originally planning on starting so early, since they stayed up late into the night together, but once he woke up to the feeling of her sneaking out of his arms, he was too awake to fall back asleep.

The sound of his footsteps on the dock warns her of his approach, but she doesn't raise her head from where she rests it in her palms to stare out at the water.

"I was wondering when you'd finally wake up," she says.

There's another few steps, then the boat jostles with his weight stepping onto it.

He doesn't say anything to her in response. The only clue she gets as to what he's doing are the footsteps on the deck that lead closer to her until she feels him sitting down on the bow next to where she is. And she's about to open her mouth to ask if he's okay when he sets something down in front of her.

It's a shoe box.

Y/N turns to see him, eyes flickering over his tired face, and looks back at the box with furrowed brows.

"What is this?"

His hair is messy, exactly how it was when she left him in bed this morning, and if she weren't more focused on the mysterious box he plopped down in front of her, she'd be combing through it with her fingers. He's gotten used to those casual displays of affection from her; how she runs her hands through his hair on mornings before school when he forgets to brush it, or when she fixes a button on his flannel that he missed.

JJ's lips are tipped in a smile, and she can't help but blush with how he looks at her. She never used to see it, but he has always looked at her like this. Like he's hopelessly, utterly in love with her. Even before they lost John B, back when he'd expend all of his romantic and sexual attention on girls he hardly knew, he still looked at her this way.

He gestures at it and says, "Open it."

The lid of the box is coated in a freshly dried layer of blue paint to match the shade of the sky overhead. She knows instantly that he must have dug through the arts and crafts box she specifically labeled with a warning for him and John B to stay out. It's painted with aimlessly sloppy brushstrokes and stickers placed at every corner of the cardboard box, all of which she recognizes from the stash she kept under her bed alongside the India ink he borrowed last Friday.

As she gives him a skeptical look and reaches to lift the lid off of the shoe box, she makes a mental note to rewrite the label on the arts and crafts box without the warning for him to keep out. Since John B isn't here to steal anything from it and JJ never follows that rule anyway, it's redundant at this point.

Any skepticism is washed away from her face as soon as she flips the lid open to reveal what's inside. It leaves her speechless as she looks down at it all.

"JJ..." she murmurs in awe.

Sitting at the bottom of it is a folded up t-shirt she saw JJ wear multiple times, but never again since John B died. He refused to glance at the shirt his best friend gave him the year before they never saw him again, let alone dig it out of the corner of her closet where he keeps his things...until now.

But that's a scratch on the surface of all of the things about his gift that stuns her to silence. The next thing to catch her immediate attention is a picture she hasn't seen in years.

It's one that Big John took of the three of them together right where she and JJ are sitting. She was much younger in it, flashing a toothy grin with her arms thrown over both boys' shoulders. To her left, John B was leaning his head on her shoulder. To her right, JJ was wearing an eyepatch they crafted out of an old black shirt he stole from his dad. It was cut with the kitchen scissors and tied around the back of his head in a knot.

She brushes her thumb over John B's face, then sets the crinkled photograph back down atop the folded shirt and moves her attention to the last surprise.

Letters.

Torn up pieces of paper painstakingly taped back together sit one on top of the other, some missing pieces here or there, and it makes her mouth part in shock. Her hands shuffle the letters apart to see each one and recognize the handwriting: Kie's bubbly, swirling letters, Pope's neat cursive, hers, and JJ's chicken scratch writing that she's able to decipher from years of proofreading his essays.

She pictures him at her desk all morning while she was sitting out here, ripping tape off of the roll and arranging the puzzle pieces of the ripped letters until he was sure he got it right. It made him want to rip the hair from his scalp, but he sat there and pushed through the frustration to make it as perfect as he could for her. The missing pieces were primarily from Kie's letter, which fluttered away on a balmy breeze when Kacey tore it up and threw it to the ground, but the one he wanted her to have the most wasn't missing more than a single piece.

Y/N looks up from the letters held like a precious treasure in her hands to see him watching her with that same classic JJ smile on his face, but he doesn't let her get a word in yet.

"Go on," he says, leaning closer to pull his letter to John B out and place it on top of the pile for her to read, "I want you to read it."

"You didn't let me read it when I asked before though, are you sure you—"

He interrupts her before she can worry herself over it, "Dude, just read it. I promise I'm fine with it. I want you to."

The letters crinkle under her touch as she looks back down and smooths them out on the deck enough to read through the clear tape. With one last confirming glance to him for permission, she takes a deep breath and reads the first line.

Dear John B,

You really know how to keep a guy on his toes, don't you? You really outdid yourself on this one. I was so sure we were gonna make it, but I guess you had to go all Romeo and Juliet on us, huh? As long as you and Sarah are happy macking on each other in heaven, it's okay.

In all seriousness, I fucking miss you, bro. I miss you more than I realized a person could miss another person. Whenever I need to talk to you again, I don't know what to do. I guess that's why it's good that Y/N made me write this.

Also, I'm really sorry for—

"What does it say there? There's a whole chunk missing," she murmurs.

He scoots close enough to her that she can feel his body warmth radiating onto her through the shoulder of his flannel. Sunlight reflects on the silver rings decorating his fingers as he holds one side of the paper to tilt it enough for him to squint at.

"Macking, I think. It's supposed to say "I'm sorry for macking on your sister."

—macking on your sister. You can totally kick my ass for it, but before you come back from the grave to murder me, let me defend myself, okay? She isn't just another girl for me, John B.

I think you knew it before I did.

Last summer, you asked me straight up if we were hooking up behind your back after I kissed her in front of you on the porch. I laughed in your face, but you were right.

You saw everything before me, man. You knew I loved her since we were kids and waited for us to come to you about it, so that's gotta mean something, right? I hope it means you wouldn't be mad at me for this.

I swear I won't fuck it up with her, but you already know that. That's why you asked me to take care of her,. I didn't know why at the time but I do now. I won't let you down.

I'm keeping my promise.

- JJ

P.S. Don't miss me too much. We'll be shotgunning beers together up there before you know it.

There are tears blooming in her eyes when she lifts her gaze from the tattered paper to look at him again, but they aren't sad. For once, the tears slipping down her cheeks are happy tears, not born from grief, sadness, and pain, but bittersweet happiness.

They're caught staring at each other for a second before he asks her shyly, "It isn't too sappy or anything, is it? 'Cause I thought it—"

"C'mere," is the only thing she can get out before she's tugging him forward by the front of his shirt to kiss him.

JJ stumbles a little with the unexpected force of her pulling him to her, but he takes it in stride. He steadies himself and lets his hands shoot out to grapple for purchase on her waist, keeping her pressed up against him tightly as he kisses her back.

And it doesn't get much better than this, does it? This is it for him. He meant what he wrote to John B, he won't fuck it up with her, especially not because of his trauma with his dad getting inside his head and sabotaging his relationship with her. This is what makes everything worth it.

It brings happy tears to his eyes too.

She can taste the salt of them where their lips meet in the middle. It makes her smile, wrapping her arms around his neck and clenching the letters he mended for her in her fist to keep them from blowing away in the wind, and they both start to laugh into each other's mouths at the poignant feeling they both share but can't quite place.

They pull away from each other to catch their breath after another moment of it, and she can't help but stare. How could she not when she feels like this? It’s less like he’s her boyfriend and more like a piece of her soul has attached itself to his with no hope of letting go in the near future.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," she whispers to him.

Plain and simple. No room for disagreement or a bashful rejection of the compliment. She's pulled back from him enough to hold his gaze and make sure he sees her seriousness, and there isn't anything he can do to refute her statement.

He brushes his nose against hers affectionately, dipping down to kiss her again, but when he leans back to see her face, he can't help himself.

"Ditto."

The rest of the day after their moment on the boat, locked away in their own little world where none of the monsters chasing them could sneak through and ruin it, melts away peacefully. After another half hour spent looking through the box together, of her thanking him over and over again, he hops off of the HMS Pogue onto the dock and extends his hand to her in the most gentlemanly manner possible.

His lips are curved into a smirk as he kneels down on one knee as though she's a revered royal and bows his head in subservience, "Princess Routledge."

Her hand fits in his warm, calloused palm as a perfect match, and she steps off of the boat onto the dock beside him with an expression to match his.

"Captain Maybank," she says in her most regal royalty voice.

Her stellar performance breaks into a laugh they share as he stands and throws his arm around over her shoulder to walk back to the yard. The cardboard box is tucked beneath one of her arms while the other slips around his side to hold him back, and her heart feels full with both the presence of JJ and John B alongside her.

They bury it together.

Tag List: @gabiatthedisco, @fangirlvoice, @black-syren, @apparrio, @particularcth, @planetdemon, @idk-ijustworkhere, and @krisphann

Also, now that it’s over, let me know what your favorite part was in the comments or tags if you’d like to :) I’m curious.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #obx #fanfiction #i'm gonna miss these dorks #🥺#I love how he tries to break up with her and she’s like ‘no❤️’#also totally do not put on ‘seven’ by Taylor Swift during the childhood flashbacks unless u wanna cry #cause I did and my sensitive ass was crying #that song is about John B and JJ okay #it just is

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twicecorner · 3 years

Text

NSFW Tag Game

Roleplay in the boudoir isn't strange. Some of your partners even get costumes. Of course, some of those costumes see more use than others. Now you can't help but get at least a little horny whenever you see someone dressed like that. Who was it that forever changed how you see these ones?

How it works:

Go to “Random.org”.

Click on “Lists & More” and then “Lists Randomised”.

Enter the names of 18+ people/characters.

Use the first 8 to find out who really loves these outfits.

Tagged by @nsfwporty ; idk who to tag sooo if u see this and wanna do it go for it !

A/N: i added another category so I could get all 9 Twice members in lol I hope that’s okay. I also did the same sort of thing as @sinswithpleasure with the lil scenarios jumping between real life and purely roleplaying situations :) also sorry its so long and may sound repetitive.. I haven’t done something like this before TT

Police Officer - Nayeon

“You have the right to remain silent,” Officer Im Nayeon said, as she handcuffed you to the chair. “I already told you everything I know. I don’t know where she went, she knocked me out, took my car and left.” Nayeon slammed her fists on the metal table. She thought for a moment before saying, “Maybe there’s a way to get something we both want. I’ve been seeing you eyeing me ever since I walked in here.” You were confused as to why she’d bring that up, but you couldn’t help it, with a body like that and who doesn’t love a woman in uniform.She stepped out of the room for a moment and came back in with a totally different mood. Nayeon pushed your chair back and lowered herself onto her knees, unzipping your pants and pulling out your cock. Officer Im started to slowly stroke your length with her long, slender fingers, bringing it to stand at full attention. Your wrists were handcuffed behind you and the metal dug into your skin at her touch. Soon she brought her mouth to your tip and began furiously devouring your length.

You watched and moaned as your rod moved in and out of Officer. Im’s wet mouth, “Fuck I need more, Officer.” Your attempt to jerk your hips in tandem with her movements failed when Nayeon completely removed her mouth from you. “You know, you’re not half bad looking and you have a nice big cock. But you’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna cum. ” She stood up, picked the small handcuff keys from her pocket, jingled them in your face, and walked towards the door laughing to herself. “OK wait! Before she left she may have mentioned a possible place or two she was heading to.” Officer Im stopped with her hand on the doorknob and spun around. “Now, we’re getting somewhere.. Tell me where she is and you’ll be released.. In more ways than one.” She said, returning to the spot on her knees in front of you. She started deep throating you fast, you were impressed at her skills and also a little worried about who could have been watching from the one-way glass, but that soon left your mind when you felt yourself nearing your edge. Nayeon’s tight throat closed around your length and with a few more bobs of her head you were seeing white “Oh fuck! She’s at her old dorm, Officer” You moaned loudly, releasing yourself and painting her throat. After swallowing your load Officer Im stood up, took off your handcuffs, said thank you and left the room without any other word.

Doctor/Nurse - Momo

You’d been sick for about a week with a little head cold and your girlfriend, Momo, was doing all that she could to take care of you, practically acting like your personal nurse. Finally feeling better, you were relaxing in bed when you heard a knock on the door before Momo, dressed in a makeshift nurses outfit strutted in. “It looks like my little Y/N is feeling better! Would you like a lollipop for being such a good patient for Nurse Momo?” You both laughed.‘“No, but I can think of something sweeter that I want right now.”

“And what would that be?”“I need the nurses special medicine to make me feel even better” You said smirking. Momo knew exactly what you meant before walking over to the bed hiking up her skirt and taking a seat on your face. Instantly you licked up her slit and gathered all of her nectar on your tongue. Momo always tasted so sweet. You ate her out, tongue fucking her and she planted her hands on your chest before grinding down on your face. She was a moaning mess and reached down with one hand slipping it under your sweats and began stroking your cock fast. You were both nearing your edge and with a few more licks and sucks at her clit she released her juices all over your face, at the same time you let go and let yourself erupt all over her hand and your stomach. “Maybe you should be sick more and I could be a nurse more often.”

Maid/Butler - Tzuyu

“Your dinner is ready, Sir”, “Thank you Ms. Chou.”

You sat at the small dining table looking out at the nighttime Seoul skyline from your apartment. Both you and Tzuyu liked the idea of one day living a lavish, wealthy lifestyle, and some nights you decided to roleplay around that idea. Tzuyu stood next to you in a classic maids outfit. “Ms. Chou, actually I think I’d like to start with dessert.” “And what would you like, sir?” You quickly got up from your seat and grabbed her waist pulling her in for a passionate kiss. “You”

Without wasting any time you picked her up and sat her onto the dining table with her long legs, hanging over the edge. You licked your lips as you pulled off Tzuyu’s panties, like unwrapping a piece of candy. Making your way to her center, you planted kisses up her thighs and pushed her skirt up. “Your desert is ready and waiting, Sir” she said, breathily.

You instantly tore into the delicacy before you, hooking your arms under her legs and around her hips to pull her body closer to you. Tzuyu was always sweet, but in her maid fit, she seemed even sweeter. It was like eating the finest fruit tart from a Michelin star restaurant. “Ms. Chou you taste so good” You say between licks. You sucked at her clit and lapped up her juices. She moaned and grabbed handfuls of your hair, pulling your head further into her. You began tongue fucking her, “Oh Sir, right there, that feels so good oh f-fuck im gonna cum, Sir” Within seconds of sucking and licking she squirted all over your face. You drank up as much as you could, some dripping from your chin when she finally released your head from her thighs. “Mmm, Ms. Chou, you’re the best desert on the menu.”

Fairytale Character - Sana

Sana was always a fan of playing dress up, especially in the bedroom. She came out of the bathroom in a short, tight green skirt with a purple bikini top on, her red-orange hair completing the look. “It looks like Ariel finally got her legs” You laughed. “Now all I need is my Prince Eric for a true love's kiss” She said, smiling and sauntering over to you. Sana blew you a kiss and you playfully acted along catching it and putting it to your lips. “Come here, then Ariel, I can give you a lot more than a true love’s kiss.” You pulled her in for a kiss as she sat on top of you. Your lips danced together while your tongues fought a fierce battle.

Before you knew it clothes were off, and Sana was on top of you bouncing up and down on your cock. The sound of skin slapping skin rang out through your room. Your cock slid in and out of her hole easily, it was practically drowning with how wet she was. “Oh fuck, I’m so close princess” You groaned, your swollen length pulsating inside of her. “Me too!” she said bouncing harder and faster, your hips matching her rhythm.

Suddenly Sana leaned forward, “I want my true love to kiss me while I cum all over his big cock” The second she said that and her perfect lips met yours, you both reached your edges, moaning into each other's mouths and riding out your orgasms.

CEO/Boss - Jihyo

Being the CEO’s secretary had its perks, sure the rest of the office made fun of you for practically being Park Jihyo’s pet, being at her every beck and call, but there was a damn good reason for it. Park Jihyo wasn’t known for just being a great boss, but with a body and a mind like hers, anyone would gladly take the same position as you. It was a Friday night and you were both staying late to finish preparing for a board meeting next Monday. “Do you have all the copies ready Y/N?” “Yes, they’re all on the conference table, the bottles of water and pens are also ready.”

“Always one step ahead, that’s what I love about you.” You had to admit you’d be lying if you said you’d never fantasized about taking your boss, especially when she showed up looking the way she did. Jihyo sat at her desk chair and swing her feet onto the desk, “Ugh this week has been so stressful, thank God we have a weekend coming up”

“Ma’am.. I hate to remind you, but you have a schedule for both days of that said weekend”, “Fuck… I can’t even have a moment to relax or get a massage.. I don’t remember the last time I had one.” You don’t know where your confidence came from but you sprung out of your seat and stood next to her, “I think I could help with that, boss” You said, snaking your hands onto her shoulders. Jihyo seemed to relax under your touch as you rubbed your fingers into her tight muscles, “Oh yeah that’s good, right there” She said, practically moaning, as you kneaded a knot in her shoulder. You could feel the warmth build up in your groin as your member came to life hearing her. “Fuck it.” it was like you blinked and there you were standing behind your boss who was laid against her own desk, her jacket and bra discarded, her pants and underwear pulled down to her ankles and her heels still on. Similarly your shirt was also gone and your pants were pulled down, your thick cock running between your bosses ass cheeks. “Don’t just stand there, Y/N, fuck me already.” “Yes, ma’am” you said, plunging yourself into her warm depths, she was suffocatingly tight and wet. You took a few slow thrusts at first then, “Harder, you little shit. I’m not paying you overtime if you aren’t putting in the work.” You’ve never seen Jihyo like this, but quite frankly you liked it. Both of you were relieving built up stress and you were happily pounding into her. You pulled her hair so her back was flat against your chest and you ran your hand around to grab at her tits. Massaging her tit and pinching at her nipple drove her over the edge and you had to hold her up as her legs buckled. Jihyo’s pussy pulsated and you erupted inside of your boss, her walls milking your worn out cock. The two of you fell onto the desk, “Shit, boss that felt so fucking good.” “It looks like we might have to do this more often, baby.”

Devil/Angel - Dahyun

It was Halloween, you and your girlfriend, Dahyun, were at a friend's party. She insisted you dress up in a couples costume, but didn’t plan on looking for one until the very last minute, of course the only one left at the story was the devil and angel. Dahyun kept bumping her wings into everyone while you both danced but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her. The white dress fit her well and there was something about the whole getup with you as a devil and her as an angel that was slowly turning you on. You grabbed her hand and brought her to the bathroom and lifted her onto the sink. She was about to take off the wings and halo, but you stopped her. “Keep them on. I wanna fuck my little angel.” Dahyun moaned at your words as you pierced her to the hilt with your length. “Oh God, yes” She moaned, throwing her head back and wrapping her creamy legs around your waist. Her heavenly pussy squeezed against your cock, her arms around your neck and gripping onto the plastic horns that adorned your head. The whole situation was sinful even if only halloween costumes. An angel being fucked by the devil, red and white flashes of movements, sounds of skin slapping skin. Dahyun was usually a conservative and quiet girl when it came to sex, but it seemed this situation also had a major effect on her. She was a moaning, mewling mess underneath you while you pounded into her. “I’m gonna.. Gonna cum” barely a whisper in your ear. “Cum for me, angel.” Dahyun’s body shook and convulsed with pleasure as she reached her peak. You held on to her and slowed your thrusts as she rode out her orgasm on your cock. You were close too and Dahyun knew it. She recovered and hopped off the sink, getting on her knees in front of you. She pumped your cock mercilessly, twisting and gripping it, massaging your aching balls until you erupted and painted her face. Spurts of cum shot out and marked her angelic face.

Athlete Coach - Mina

It was a normal day at the gym for you, you were a seasoned gymnast and had daily practices in prep for the Olympic Qualifiers coming up. When you got into the gym there was a group of girls also “practicing?” Although it wasn’t normal gymnastics, but rhythmic gymnastics. Gymnastics that also involved hoops, balls, and dance. You didn’t think much of it and went to the uneven bars to warm up. You lifted yourself up and from the peak of your pull up, someone caught your eye. The main dancer, it seemed, was standing in the middle of the other girls. She was wearing a black shimmery outfit demonstrating some move with the hoop above her head. She was elegant and seemed to know exactly what she was doing with every move of her body. After your practice you went over to find her. She was practicing alone in one of the dance rooms, “Hi, I’m Y/N I’m one of the gymnasts here, I haven’t seen you here before.. But your routine was really good!”

She shyly smiled and looked back at you, “Hi Y/N, my name is Mina, Myoi Mina. I’m actually a ballet dancer, but the girls asked for my advice on their routine so I’ve been helping them prepare for the tournament. I’m glad you like it. I liked your routine as well, you sure know how to catch a girl's attention with all of those flips and such.” You laughed nervously, thinking maybe it was too obvious, but regardless you did catch her a few times staring at you too. “Haha yeah your moves were cool too, I don’t even think I’m that flexible enough to pull that off.” Mina took her chance with that. “Here let me show you.” She brought her leg straight up doing a split in the air, you gulped and your eyes trailed her body. “Holy shit” You said under your breath. She wasn’t wearing any panties… “Are you just gonna look or are you gonna help me, help you. I’ll teach you what you need to know about flexibility.”

Soon you were full on fucking in the empty dance studio, watching yourself in the floor to ceiling length mirrors as Mina showed off just how flexible she was. First you pounded her standing up with her leg straight in the air over your shoulder, next you had your way with her up against the mirror, her legs wrapped around your waist, contorting her body in all sorts of way to bring you both pleasure.. Mina kept surprising you with positions, downward dog with her back deliciously arched, on her back with her legs pulled up against her torso. She came a handful of times but was adamant about you finishing in what she thought was the perfect position. Mina returned to her standing position with her leg above her head, she loved watching herself in the mirror and she loved it even more to see herself getting pounded into. You grabbed her hips and pushed her against the mirror, her juices were already dripping down her legs from her splayed lips.”Cum inside me, I want to feel you inside of me while I dance.” You were sent over the edge and released your seed deep inside of the gorgeous dance teacher.

TV Show/Anime Character - Jeongyeon

You and Jeongyeon had just finished watching the kdrama Mine and she had gotten pretty into the characters and particularly their style. Mine was about these women who are in the process of finding themselves and their own loves, however, the part that captured Jeongyeon’s interest was their lavish chaebol lifestyle. Of course it caught your interest too, the idea of being able to wear fancy clothes and drive a nice car with a mansion was always a fantasy. One night you both decided to test drive this fantasy for yourselves. You both got dressed in what was about the fanciest attire you had in your quaint apartment and went out for a dinner date. You had dinner at a nice steak restaurant where you had to make a reservation in advance and even have your car valeted. Dinner was amazing, considering the price, but it was worth it.

The drive home is when things began to heat up. It was about a 30 minute drive, feeling bold after some wine, you slid your hand over the gear shift to rest on Jeongyeon’s thigh. “That was a wonderful dinner, wasn’t it Ms. Yoo?” “Yes, it was, I say we go back to the Cadenza [a house name from Mine] and have some fun.” You slowly moved your hand up to just rest over her covered center. She held her breath as she grabbed your hand and pushed it towards her. You rubbed her through her panties and she did the same to you, stroking your covered length to life. “I don’t know if we’ll even make it home.” You said, taking a turn and drove to a secluded lookout point the two of you used to frequent in your younger days of dating. “I bet even the fancy and rich decide to get down and dirty sometimes” She said, while you hopped into the backseat. Jeongyeon pulled off her panties before climbing to the back and straddling you.

You pulled down your pants and let your erection spring free, until Jeongyeon lowered herself to the hilt. “You better not get any of your filthy cum on this dress. It’s expensive.” She said, pointing a finger at where your bodies were connected. “Don’t worry it’s expensive too and it’s not going anywhere but inside of you.” You said, grabbing her hips and starting to thrust up into her. She started bouncing on top of you and you both became moaning messes, erratically slamming your bodies together in the small space of the car. “Fuck I’m close” Jeongyeon moaned, “Me too” You replied, between thrusts. As your cock slipped in and out of her, you shifted your position ever so slightly and started hitting her g-spot exactly on point. “FUCK! Right there!” Jeongyeon’s orgasm caught her off guard as her movements slowed and her pussy pulsed around your cock, “Cum with me, baby.” On cue, you came pushing your dick as far as it could go inside of her, her pussy clamped shut around it milking you and not letting anything escape. As you rode out your orgasms she leaned into your ear and said, “You’re Mine.”

Waitress/Waiter - Chaeyoung

“Here’s your usual Y/N!” Chaeyoung smiled as she placed the plate of chicken and waffles and a cup of coffee in front of you. You were a regular at this diner near your house and for as long as you can remember, Chaeyoung had also been working there and serving you. She had this certain vibe to her that was different from anyone else in the town, from changing her hair color with the seasons, to having the most unique and fashionable outfits. The two of you had known each other for so long and you had a special relationship, one could call it something like a friends with benefits type deal. You finished your meal and Chaeyoung came with the bill. “You want the regular tip or the special tip today, Chae?” “The special.” She said, smirking. She told her coworker she was going on break and went into the storage room. You followed her a minute later. Chaeyoung was significantly smaller than you, but she was still able to push you and pin you up against the door crashing your lips together. “We gotta make this fast before the boss comes back.” You swiftly unbuckled your pants and picked her up.

The only perks of having to wear a uniform for the job was that the uniform was only a short skirt. She moved her panties over to the side and you ran your tip through her slit. “Mmm fuck, you’re already so wet Chae.” Before she could answer you slipped inside of her and started pumping in and out of her warm cunt. It wasn’t the first time fucking in the storage room, nor would it be the last, but every time it was exhilarating. The threat of getting caught, of people hearing, knocking over stock shelves or brooms, made it even hotter than it was. That’s what Chaeyoung was, a daredevil, she pushed the limits. She certainly was no stranger to pushing you to your own limits, “Cum inside me Y/N, I want it. Tip me good, maybe even some extra for special service. Fuck, you’re so deep.” Her words sent shivers down your spine and your knees almost buckled as you came and painted her deepest insides with your seed. She loved being filled, the sensation of thick spurt after spurt being let out inside of her sent her over the edge too. Chaeyoung came, clinging onto you, digging her nails into your back. You let her down once you both recovered and cleaned up. “I think that tip will last me at least the rest of the week… Come back soon!” She waved before straightening her skirt and leaving the room.

#tag game #twice #twice smut #twice fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #nayeon #jeongyeon #momo #sana #jihyo #mina #dahyun #chaeyoung #tzuyu

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