#because that's definitely a normal thing to name a fic

[smileysuh]

sage & stardust

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.  

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k

🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol. 

☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu. 

Prologue

Pandora lives in a little cottage in the forest. Even though she’s young, she knows the trees and ferns, the mushrooms and flowers. Who needs mundane playthings when you have four entire acres of wilderness to keep you entertained? 

Her mother is an artist, and steady hands run in the family. Pandora spends her evenings carefully painting a dollhouse model of the cottage that her father had crafted for her in his little workshop shed outside.

All in all, it’s a peaceful existence, and things are very predictable. Mother is in the studio solarium room, fingers covered in inks and colorful spots. Father is crafting something in his shed, fixing up the house as he engages in an endless war against the elements of the forest. 

Pandora flutters around, checking in on her parents, and exploring the immediate grounds around the cottage. Today, she’s following a particularly beautiful butterfly as it glides amongst the trees down by the pond. She’s so enamored with the pretty wings, that she almost doesn’t notice the fairy ring. 

A circle of mushrooms, one she’s scouted out before, is along the bank of the murky water. Pandora has heard tales of fairies and pixies, and has been warned not to enter circles like this. She sidesteps the ring, and that’s when she notices something out of place, something that hadn’t been there yesterday.

Just outside of the little circle, is a small creature. At first glance, the glossy wings look butterfly-like, but Pandora has never seen sage green wings like these on a bug. The small child pauses, hiking up her dress and kneeling down to get a better look.

Definitely not a butterfly. Where an insect would have a thorax at the joining of wings, this creature has a tiny little man. Well, he’s bigger than a butterfly would be, but it’s clear to the young girl that she’s looking at a fairy, and as she inspects him further, she notices one of his wings is torn.

Pandora has mended butterfly wings with her father before- she knows what to do, but she’s hesitant. Should she help this small fairy, as she’s helped many bugs before him? Is he simply resting and not in immediate danger?

She looks around, noting any predators in the surrounding area. A large bird circles overhead, and Pandora decides she has to act. Reaching for a leaf, she scoops the tiny fairy's body into the greenery, carefully carrying him back toward the cottage.

As she gets there, she sees her father getting into his work truck to head to town, and Pandora knows better than to stop him. She also knows better than to go interrupt her mother, who is on a deadline for a piece and has asked not to be disturbed.

No, Pandora will have to do this rescue mission herself, and she heads into her father’s workshop to find the glue.

She does her best to be gentle, even with her pudgy fingers, as she mends the torn wing. When she’s done, Pandora finds one of the many small boxes her father has made. It’s a cedar box, with a small, iron latch.

Leaving the fairy, she goes outside, collecting a little nest of moss to put into the box.

When everything is finished, she sets the fairy into the box, carefully closing it and latching it shut. He needs some rest, and as far as the small child is concerned, he’s safer in her little box than lying in the grass where big predators might hurt him.

One:

“I’m sure it’s no surprise that your grandmother left you the cottage,” the lawyer in charge of the estate tells you as he looks over the papers on his desk. “As you are the only artist in the family, Pandora wrote that she hopes the solace will inspire, as it had inspired her, and her mother before her.”

You nod solemnly. It’s a monumental gift, one your cousins would kill you for- but alas, you’d spent the most time with your grandmother in her later days, and the solarium studio is already set up as your own. To be young, and a homeowner now- this had never been your intention in spending time with her, but perhaps it’s a happy outcome, given the dire situation of her passing.

“She also wanted me to tell you, that you can finally open the box.” The lawyer looks at you expectantly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Do you know what she was referring to?”

“Yes,” you respond. “She’d kept this small cedar box. Her father had made it for her when she was a child. It’s on her nightstand, but she’s never opened it.”

“Well, that’s… interesting.”

“Yeah, Pandora’s Box, I know the story,” you let out a sad chuckle. “Part of me doesn’t want to open it, she always told me not to, I guess I made it this big bad thing in my head as a kid.”

“I’m sure it’s just jewelry or something of the sort,” the lawyer assures you, and you remind yourself that men of the law are never the superstitious type.

Two:

You’re a few glasses deep into your bottle of wine, and you find yourself looking at your grandmother’s small cedar box. Curiosity is getting the better of you, and liquid courage is doing wonders to calm your superstitions. 

There can’t be anything dangerous in the box, or your grandma wouldn’t have left it for you… right?

Taking a breath, you approach the box. It’s sitting on your dining room table, you’d gingerly carried it from the bedroom earlier, with the intention of opening it, and now, you will. 

You sit, staring at it for a few moments. Your hands shake when you reach for it, but you push away your anxiety. The iron latch is old and worn, but it clicks open after a bit of work. Taking another deep breath, you lift the cedar lid. 

Nothing happens, no surge of dark spirits releasing the worst of humanity, no hurricane or pestilence-

You lean forward, looking into the box, and you’re shocked by what you find there.

Half buried in a nest of mossy greens that looked like they were only picked hours ago, is a small winged man. It’s a fairy, you realize, with glossy wings-

He stirs a little, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

How could this be? Ignoring the moss that’s apparently been preserved for over seventy years, how is this tiny creature still alive after being shut away for a lifetime?

Part of you wants to close the box, to forget about it- but then the tiny man’s eyes open, and he stares up at you. You freeze immediately, as if paralyzed, your mind going blank in the face of the supernatural.

The fairy rubs his eyes, sitting up amongst the bed of moss. His hair is all messy, but in a way that’s kind of adorable. He gazes up at you, and then, he speaks. “Hello?”

“Hi?” It comes out a question, and you’re unsure how to proceed, so you say nothing else.

“Sorry, this is embarrassing,” he laughs, and you note the way his skin has turned pink. “Did you save me?”

“As horrible as this sounds, I uh… inherited you?”

“I don’t even know what that means,” the tiny man muses. “I remember being attacked by a large bird in my realm, my wing was damaged, I made my way to a fairy ring to come to your world and recuperate, but I must have passed out.”

You consider his words for a moment. “My grandma used to fix butterfly wings, is it possible she found you and fixed yours?”

The fairy extends one of his sage appendages, inspecting it. “It definitely looks repaired… Your grandma, you said?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I was told she’d had this box since she was a girl… have you been in here for a long time?”

“I was in hibernation, the dark and the moss- it was healing, I awoke because of the light.”

“So you have been in there for years,” you conclude, shocked. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“How many years is ‘years?’ You humans have a different view of time than I do.”

“Probably seventy or eighty?” you suggest.

“It didn’t feel like that long.” He cocks his head to the side, clearly thinking, then he looks up at you again. “How long have you had me?”

“I uh…” you swallow thickly at the question. “Well, I just inherited the cottage, and my grandma left the box to me in her will too… so, only two days.”

He nods, looking down, continuing to think hard about whatever it is that fairies ponder deeply on. 

“How… how do you feel?”

“Well rested,” he smiles, breaking the look of deep concentration. “I’m ready to get back to tinkering.”

Tinkering… that definitely sounds like a fairy word, and you don’t question him further. 

“Please don’t let me stop you from getting back to your home,” you tell him. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience of my grandmother keeping you in this box all this time.”

“It’s alright,” he yawns again, then pushes himself up from the moss. He’s dressed in a little green fairy outfit, and you do your best to commit him to your memory. His wings are truly beautiful, the way they shimmer even in the electric light of your kitchen. “I remember a pond.”

“Yes, there’s one right out the back way, must be a fairy circle there,” you nod.

“Thank you for the directions,” he smiles sincerely, and then, he begins to fly. You wonder how such delicate-looking wings could carry his body weight as he heads toward your open kitchen window. He lands on the ledge there, turning to give you one final nod of farewell, and then the fairy is gone.

You sit there for a few minutes, staring after him in shock.

How much wine did you have to drink?

Three:

It’s a Thursday like any other. You’re getting used to living in this cute cottage in the woods, spending your mornings waking up with the sun, heating a kettle for tea, and letting the creative juices flow in your mind before you ease your way to the studio to paint.

It’s the end of spring, and the promise of summer warmth is looming on the horizon. 

You’re just beginning to contemplate breakfast when there’s a knock at your door, and it makes your heart freeze in your chest.

Although you might be getting somewhat accustomed to the seclusion, there are still very real dangers of being a single woman out on a large property alone in the woods, and this fact makes you hesitant as you head to your front door.

You can make out a large man through the glass, and you take a breath before peaking your head out. “Hello?”

It takes you a moment to recognize the man, as he’s substantially larger than the last time you saw him. The fairy is no longer palm-sized, instead, he’s well over six foot, and he flashes an awkward smile down at you. “Hi.”

You take in his attire, the worn jeans and the green flannel… you also note that he’s barefooted. “You’re wearing my grandpa's clothes.”

“Yeah, I uh… noticed the box in your truck, figured you might be getting rid of them anyways, so I slipped in through a crack in the window. I couldn’t just show up naked.”

Good point. “You’re big now,” you point out.

“Can I uh… can I come in?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, surveying your front porch.

You take a breath. Part of you says this is a bad idea, but part of you is also saying that this is a fairy the size of a human man, and if you don’t hear him out, you’ll be wondering what could have been for the rest of your life.

You push your door open for him. “I just made some tea, follow me.”

The fairy’s footsteps are loud on your wooden floors as he shadows you to the kitchen. You give him your cup, pouring a second one for yourself before leaning back against your sink. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” the fairy sighs, taking a seat at your small dining table. He cups his large hands around the mug of tea, as if warming himself.

“Well, I’m y/n,” you tell him.

He smiles thankfully. “Mingyu.”

“Nice to meet you again, Mingyu, how about you tell me how you’re human-sized and your wings are gone?”

“Fairies can transform. In my own realm, keeping my smaller shape is easier, but here- it takes less energy to just… blend in. It’s a sort of, um, adaptation, for survival, I guess.” 

“It doesn’t make sense how you can go from tiny to massive,” you point out.

“Well, you see, I’m big for a fairy,” Mingyu laughs nervously. “It’s part of the reason I never fit in that well with others of my kind.”

You frown at his words, giving him the space to continue.

“Yeah, so anyways, I went back home, and I had been gone a while, and it just felt weird. I hadn’t fit in before, and I didn’t fit in when I got back, and I guess I just figured… you’re a girl, and you’re here alone, in the forest- I mentioned I’m a tinkerer right? I fix things? Was thinking maybe I could help fix up your place.”

Is he seriously offering to fix your house? You stare at him in shock. “I’ve never really thought about fairies being blue-collared.”

“Blue-collared?” he looks down at his flannel in confusion.

“Never mind, it’s uh, it’s a phrase, it means you’re a worker, you do building and stuff.”

“I’m really good at building and fixing things,” he nods solemnly. 

“So… you want to stay here with me? Room, board, food… in return, you’ll fix up the cottage?” you clarify.

“I guess.”

You study him. “I’ve heard about pixies and fairies who try to lure people into fairy rings-”

“It’s not like that, I promise.” He meets your gaze. “Look, what if I fix your little shed workshop thing, show you what I can do, and you can decide later?”

You consider it for a moment. “I guess that could work, but first, you’ll need some workboots.”

“If you think that’s best.”

God, he probably does most of his tinkering while fairy-sized and barely wearing clothes… which isn’t something you want to think about.

Setting your tea down, you head to one of the back closets, where you’d stashed away a few of your grandfather’s possessions, the important things, unlike the donation box currently in your truck.

You find Mingyu some shoes, and when you go give them to him, he flashes you a smile and heads outside to get to work. 

Four:

You’re doing your best to focus on painting, but your solarium gives you a perfect view of your grandfather's old work shed, where Mingyu is currently tinkering around. 

He’s fast, and it’s clear he knows what he’s doing.

Your grandfather’s shed has a whole stash of tools, shingles, and wood, and Mingyu has already redone the roof, ripped a few worn boards off to replace them along the sides, and completed general tidying work.

He’s even weed-whacked the tall grass around the workstation, and as lunch turns into evening, he comes back from the woods with a small tree on his shoulder, which he then begins to chop for firewood.

You can definitely see how he’d be helpful to have around… and you can afford to feed him if he’s going to fix up your home. He’s probably already done a couple hundred dollars of work, maybe even a thousand- work that you’d been meaning to hire someone to deal with once you’d settled in a little more. 

You get started on dinner. You’d planned on rice bowls, and it’s easy enough to make a plate for him. Then, you go outside, calling him toward you.

Mingyu’s sweaty, and he’s got some sawdust on his jeans- but God, does he look handsome and chipper.

“I made dinner,” you tell him.

He nods, smiling before following you inside. You note the way he takes off his boots at your door, brushing off his pants, careful not to bring any dirt into your otherwise tidy house.

The two of you sit down to eat, and he’s extremely verbal about how thankful he is for the food, and how good it tastes-

You come up with an avenue of discussion to distract him from his praises. “What would you living here entail?”

He pauses. “I hadn’t thought too hard about it.”

“I feed you, you do work, you live here?”

“Something like that.”

“How long do you keep your human shape?”

Mingyu takes a breath, setting down his spoon. “I’ll be honest with you, whether you see it this way or not, your grandmother saved me. I was wounded, I came to your realm, anything could have gotten me, but your grandma saved me, glued my wing, and kept me safe so I could hibernate and heal. I owe your family. My home isn’t my home anymore, please let me help you make this cottage your home.”

“No, I-” you release the tension in your shoulders, “you can stay, but, seriously, how long do you keep your human shape?”

“Is it a space thing?” Mingyu looks around. “I can be small when I sleep if it’s a space thing-”

“I mean, my grandma has a replica doll house of the cottage that her dad made for her, was going to offer that up for you.” It’s meant to be a joke, but Mingyu takes it completely seriously, nodding diligently. 

“That works, I just have to go collect some moss to make a bed-”

“Are you being for real?” you ask, blinking at him.

“I should probably go back to my normal size when I sleep, it makes sense and takes up less space,” Mingyu nods.

“If you change your mind, I do have a spare bedroom.” 

“Nope,” the man-sized fairy shakes his head, “the doll house works.”

“Well… if you want to go get some moss, I can grab the box of clothes from my truck,” you suggest.

“Let’s do it.” Mingyu is so easy, he just agrees to everything. 

Soon the two of you are reconvening at your front door, you with a box, him with a palm full of moss. “The doll house is in the studio, I was planning to paint it.” Mingyu follows you to the solarium. In the dark of the evening, you have to turn on the fairy lights you’d strung up, and Mingyu lets out a breath.

Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.

“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.

“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art. 

“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”

“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”

“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.

“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.

“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”

Five:

You wake up feeling as refreshed and well-rested as ever. It’s odd how much of a difference having a male presence in the house can make, even if he was the size of your palm while you were sleeping. 

You’ve been here over a month, but you’ve not yet gotten used to the seclusion, the feeling of being alone. Mingyu is an unexpected comfort, and you quietly tiptoe to your solarium to see if he’s awake.

The nest of moss in the dollhouse is empty, and you move to your kitchen, getting a kettle started before looking out the window. Mingyu’s lumbering around in the tree line. He’s dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, and damn does it look good.

You turn on some music, quietly making breakfast for two while trying to fight the urge to watch the beautiful man.

You’d slept in more than normal, another byproduct of feeling safe, and due to that, by the time you’re taking two plates of food outside, the temperature of the late spring air is already warming with the noon sun.

“Mingyu,” you call, finding him by the workshed, “breakfast!”

He bounds over like a puppy, and you set the plates down on a small circular table. The metal lawn set can be a bit rough, and you’ve tried to soften it with comfy pillows. Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind as he plops down, grabbing the bacon sandwich you’d prepared.

“Smells delicious,” he tells you, taking the largest bite of food you’ve ever seen.

You watch him, amused. “Did you get up early?”

“Yeah, I don’t need much sleep. Just spent eighty years sleeping, or so you tell me.” Mingyu smiles at you, a tight-lipped smile to hide the food in his mouth, you’re sure. 

“It’s a nice day,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair and looking at the world around you.

The sun is out, it’s a little cold, but the sky is clear. Dew drops are in the last stages of evaporation, clinging to the green strands of grass along the hillside area that leads down to the pond.

“Every day is a good day for tinkering,” Mingyu agrees. “Which, I meant to ask- is there anything you wanted me to do?” 

“Uh… like what?”

“I’ll finish the shed soon,” Mingyu promises. “I already have ideas about extending it, but, if you wanted me to paint the house, fix anything inside that’s a little wonky and in need of tinkering-”

“I think you should focus on the shed, if you want to extend it, you should.” For some reason, you’re apprehensive about him coming into the house just yet- you need to… acclimatize to his presence, and right now, having a wall of glass between the two of you is keeping your heart from exploding every time you look at him. “Do you uh… do you need anything to build your addition?”

“Your grandfather kept a lot of tools, nails, screws- and we’re surrounded by trees. He had loads of extra shingles, enough for years of repairs to the cottage and the shed.” Mingyu smiles at you. “I think I’ll manage… but, when it comes time to paint it, maybe we could paint it together?”

“Maybe.” You can feel your skin heating at the idea. “Anyways, I wanted to bring you some food, now I’ve gotta go inside my studio and get to work.”

“Sounds good, tinkering calls, thanks for breakfast.” Mingyu pushes the last massive bite of his sandwich into his mouth before standing up.

He nods to you and then you watch him go, sneaking a look at his butt before you tear your eyes away.

This could either be the best idea of your life, or the worst. 

Six:

Mingyu had taken his time with the shed. He’d made it twice the size, and added more windows that your grandfather had left sitting around in the original structure- it’s crazy how much he’s accomplished using only the things that are left over and semi discarded.

Then, Mingyu had taken to restoring the inside. He’d spent two days just moving stuff around, tidying and dusting- and another day just cutting wood to fill up his firewood stash. 

Now, a week after showing up at your door, he’s finally come inside to begin tinkering with old hinges and loose screws. He’s going over every inch of your cottage to make sure it’s up to his fairy standards, and you’re extremely aware of him, especially when he makes it to the solarium to begin to work.

The french doors have been a little off for years, one hinge is a little wonky- and it’s hard to focus on your painting while Mingyu’s standing there and fiddling- or, scratch that, tinkering. 

“Watcha working on?” Mingyu asks, and you suppose he must have caught you staring.

“Oh, uh… it’s a new project, and starting is always the hardest part.”

Mingyu comes around your easel, looking at the new blank canvas you had pulled out just an hour ago.

“Do you have any ideas?” he questions.

“I mean… one or two.”

Mingyu cocks his head at you. “Tell me.”

You release a deep sigh. “I guess… I was wondering if maybe… maybe I could paint your wings sometime, in an abstract sort of way.”

Mingyu is quiet for a few moments, and you immediately try to backpedal, but he stops you. “No, it’s okay, sorry, I was just- I’ve never been someone’s muse before.”

“You haven’t?”

He shakes his head. “In uh… where I come from, my wings aren’t exactly that extraordinary.” 

“Really?” you ask in shock.

“Yeah, they’re just green. I know a lot of fairies with all sorts of colored wings, pinks, purples- every color of the rainbow. Green is… well, it’s bland, it’s like everything else in the forest.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “You seem to forget that I came to the forest for inspiration- the greens here are beautiful. If I remember correctly, your wings are like… sage and stardust.”

“Sage and stardust,” Mingyu repeats, his voice like a whisper. He cracks a smile. “I like that.”

“So you’ll let me paint them?”

“If it would make you happy.”

“It would.”

“Then yes, you can paint by wings.”

Seven:

Mingyu’s continued his daily tinkerings, but now, your evenings are spent in your solarium. You’d found one of your grandmother’s magnifying glasses, the type she used for butterfly wing repair, and Mingyu is the perfect muse, sitting patiently and letting you inspect him.

You’d spent half an hour just trying to get the color of his wings right, and now, you’re doing long brush strokes against the cream canvas. You’d found some glitter too, and while Mingyu spends most of the time sitting on your shoulder while you’re painting, he also offers to douse his hands in sparkles and do the small details for you.

It’s odd, thirsting for this large, beefy man during the day, only for him to downsize and nuzzle into your hair at night- he’s still so cute as a fairy, and his wings are truly beautiful.

“You see me like this?” Mingyu asks, fluttering off your shoulder to gaze at the painting. He’s so small in comparison to the large canvas. “These are really my wings?” 

“They’re beautiful, Gyu,” you tell him, giving him a nickname without a second thought.

“Gyu,” Mingyu repeats, turning to look at you. “I like that.”

You hold out your paint brush, and he flutters over to it, balancing on the wooden handle.

It’s crazy how you’re already getting used to him- to the little things, Mingyu included. 

Eight:

It’s gotten to the point where Mingyu wants to paint the shed, so the two of you decide to head into town together. It’s a small population, and you know that the sight of the two of you is raising a few eyebrows as you enter the paint store.

Mingyu sticks out, not only for his size, but his beauty as well. He truly is stunning, and you notice multiple women staring as the two of you wander around the store.

“So what coloring are you thinking?” Mingyu asks, heading to a wall of paint swatches. 

“I mean… I just sort of figured we’d repaint it to match the house again?” you suggest.

“Well… it’s your house now,” Mingyu points out. “What are your dream colors?”

“My dream colors?”

“Yeah, I promised you I’d help you make it your dream home, didn’t I?” 

Your heart melts as you stare up at this gorgeous man. He has such a soft heart, you can’t believe how much you care for him after only two weeks, how much he clearly cares for you- but you try not to read into it too deeply. 

You turn to look at the paint swatches, truly considering what your dream home would look like.

You choose a pallet, showing it to Mingyu, and he nods. “This will be great.”

The two of you go to get the paint, and soon, you’re back in your truck. You try to play the radio, but it doesn’t drown out your thoughts, so you turn the music down.

“Did you notice how many people were looking at you today?” you ask.

“Hmm?” Mingyu tears his gaze from the trees moving by.

“Girls, a lot were staring.”

“Were you staring?” 

You flash a glimpse at Mingyu and find him grinning at you… is there a mutual attraction here? Does he like you the way you like him?

Things are just so easy. Choosing paint with him for your house, letting him make your house your dream house- it all just feels so domestic, not to mention the fact that you generally don’t like people watching you work on your art, but you feel comfortable with him.

“I, uh… yeah, I look at you, we’re friends.” You cough, forcing your eyes back to the road.

“Close friends,” Mingyu confirms.

You turn the radio back up, and Mingyu looks out at the trees again, but he doesn’t stop smiling, and your heart doesn’t stop racing either.

Nine:

It’s hard to sleep. You can’t help but think about the car ride with Mingyu earlier. 

He has to be attracted to you… right?

He’s been more touchy during your late-night painting sessions, and less afraid to cuddle up in your hair. You’ve noticed him watching you too… often when you look at him, you catch his gaze already on you.

Cohabitation with a man as fine as he is- well, you know where it leads, and you’re a little shocked you’ve gotten this far without breaking first.

You toss and turn in your bed, groaning.

God, when was the last time you were this horny?

Can you… can you touch yourself with him right downstairs? Is that weird? What if he catches you? Mingyu said it himself, he doesn’t sleep much- and… is his hearing better as a fairy? You don’t actually know much about his abilities when he has wings… maybe these are things you should ask.

You let out a sigh, bringing your hand to your breast through your sleeping shirt. In no time at all, your nipple is pebbled against your touch. You release another breath, closing your eyes and thinking about Mingyu. 

You search through your memories, deciding to focus on the thought of him chopping wood. God, in his little tank top, his muscles all bulging and glorious- the way his sweat begins to drip, making the fabric stick to his skin, showing off his abdominal muscles-

You can feel your pussy getting wet, and you begin to glide a hand down between your legs-

You stop, opening your eyes. Fuck, you can’t do this. It feels dirty, sinful- and not in a fun flirty way. 

This isn’t something that you can continue with- you can’t keep feeling this way. You have to tell Mingyu how you feel. If it ruins everything then it ruins everything, but you can’t keep this cohabitation agreement up if you’re falling in love with the man- or, should you say, fairy.

God, maybe you should have never opened Pandora’s Box. It wasn’t a flurry of chaos, not one you could see anyway, but you’re beginning to feel chaotic inside, and coming clean to Mingyu is the only way to get it settled. 

Ten:

When you wake up the next morning, you move slowly. You have a shower, make some tea, and then, after going through an internal script numerous times, you decide to go outside to tell Mingyu how you feel. 

He’s been painting the shed all morning, that much is obvious from how much he’s completed- and to make matters worse for yourself, he’s shirtless.

You almost turn and go right back inside, but instead, you pull up your big girl panties, taking a few deep breaths.

You have to do this, you’ll regret it if you don’t- just as you knew you’d regret it if you hadn’t let Mingyu inside a few weeks ago to hear him out.

“Gyu?” you call.

“Oh, hi!” he waves, and you watch paint splatter everywhere from the brush in his hand. “Oops!” 

God, he’s so- he’s so- he’s a big dork, in the best way possible.

You watch Mingyu wipe his hand across his abdomen, clearing the splatter stain there. “Had to take my shirt off, painting isn’t my strong suit sometimes,” he explains, putting the brush back into the can before he approaches you. “What’s up?”

Suddenly, everything you’d planned to say to him just disappears from your mind.

“Are you thirsty?” you ask, voice cracking.

“Could use some water,” he nods.

“Come inside,” you instruct, tearing your gaze away from Mingyu’s perfect body to lead him back into your cottage.

He follows you like a good boy, taking his boots off on your deck before joining you in the kitchen where you have a cup of water waiting for him. 

Your hand is practically shaking as you give him the cup, and he looks you up and down, an expression of concern appearing on his face. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head. “Just… a little jittery.”

“Is there something on your mind?” Mingyu questions, taking a sip of his water.

God, he’s still shirtless, and it’s as if he doesn’t even realize it! It’s as if being half naked in your kitchen is the most normal thing in the world to him!

You take a deep breath, doing your best to hype yourself up. “I like you,” you say finally.

“I like you too,” Mingyu grins.

“No, I… I like like you.” 

“Like like?” he repeats, cocking his head to the side in confusion. 

“As in… I think you’re really amazing and good with your hands, and you’re handsome, and I enjoy spending time with you,” you blurt. 

“I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. 

You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?

“Mingyu,” you take another very deep breath, stepping closer to him. “I feel for you, in here.” You put your hand over his heart, looking up at him, searching his brown eyes for some form of recognition, of understanding. 

Mingyu’s lips part, and his gaze shifts to your hand, then, he slowly places his own over yours. His palm is warm, and he squeezes you gently. “Are you saying you love me?” he asks.

You blink… it feels like he’s skipping a few steps here. You love him as a friend, and you’re attracted to him, but you’re not… in love with him, not yet anyway. 

“I-” You swallow thickly and decide to just be honest. “I think… things could be heading that way, with some more time.”

“More time?” Mingyu frowns a little. “Humans can be weird.”

“We can?” you laugh. “What’s love like for you?”

“Fairies don’t do anything halfway. We feel intensely, more so than humans I think.”

“Have you…” you cough. “Have you ever been in love before?”

“No.”

“So… how do you know what you’re feeling right now is love?”

“I know it because I would do anything for you. Just being near you makes me happy. I want to protect you, and provide for you- I’d give up my wings for you. I choose you over any of my own kind, because you understand me and accept me better than my own kind. I don’t need anyone else but you.” 

You don’t know what to say, so you choose not to say anything. Instead, you get on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his own.

Mingyu freezes for a moment, but then he reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you tight to his chest. 

It’s a slow kiss, an exploratory one. It’s soft and gentle and every good thing, but you get the sense you’re going to have to lead the build-up of this. After a few kisses, you lick at his lower lip, and Mingyu responds by opening his mouth, allowing you to deepen the experience. 

His hands grab your hips, and Mingyu pushes you backward until your bum hits the counter, then he lifts you onto it, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. 

As you kiss him, there’s a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you that this is a fairy. His original form is small… but as he grinds against you, you realize that what’s inside his pants right now is anything but tiny. 

God, he feels so good- and he’s already shirtless, which gives you the perfect opportunity to graze your hands along his body, teasing the muscle you find there. Mingyu shivers from the contact, breaking the kiss.

He presses his forehead against yours, breathing deeply, and you can feel his heart racing under your palm. 

“Do you want to do this? Even though you don’t love me the way I love you?” He asks.

“I want this, and I do love you Mingyu, I just…”

“You need more time,” he sighs.

“I think… do you remember how you said eighty years felt fast in the box for you? I feel like, you just move faster than I do, and that’s not a bad thing, it’s just… something we have to adjust for.”

“Adjust how?” Mingyu questions, looking down at you as his hands grip your hips harder.

You shrug. “Maybe you’ll just have to be patient with me.”

“Do I have to wait to say ‘I love you’ since you’re waiting?”

You smile up at him. “You can do anything that feels right, Mingyu.”

“This feels right,” Mingyu muses, pulling you closer to the edge of the table so he can grind his denim-clad cock against your core.

“Then do this,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and drawing his lips back to yours. 

Mingyu doesn’t fight it, in fact, he melts into the kiss, and then, his hands are grabbing your thighs and he’s lifting you up.

You grip his strong shoulders, releasing a small squeal of shock- but you refuse to break the kiss as he begins to carry you through your cottage. He knows where your bedroom is, and it’s sweet that he wants your first time to be on an actual mattress- you’d half expected him to bend you over in your kitchen and have his way with you right there, but you suppose that’s not really his style.

You still have so much more to learn about Mingyu, and you’re excited to take your time learning it. 

Mingyu lays you down gently on your bed, and his lips move to your throat. His hands find yours, and your fingers intertwine as he sucks on your sweet spot, making you moan and writhe against the bed beneath him. 

“Fuck,” you groan, brows furrowing from the pleasure already coursing through you. 

Mingyu grins against your throat, and then he begins to descend.

You’re wearing a sleeping shirt and boxers, and Mingyu’s hand is sneaking up the oversized fabric. “Can I take this off you?” he asks, pulling away and swallowing thickly, his gaze fixed on your covered chest.

You nod, but instead of forcing him to do it, you push on your wrist confines, prompting Mingyu to let you go so you can sit up, tearing the shirt off. You’re not wearing a bra, and Mingyu’s pupils blow at the sight.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours again as he helps you back down to the bed. You relax against the duvet, enjoying the sensation of your bare chests rubbing against each other. Your nipples are pebbled from interest, and each brush of him against you feels like magic, especially when he begins to swivel his hips, grinding down against your pussy.

His mouth begins to move down again, and this time, there’s no fabric to stop him in his tracks. Mingyu’s lips wrap around your nipple, your fingers threading through his hair as you fight the urge to arch your back and moan like a whore in heat.

“Feels good,” you tell him, earning a groan from the large man who sucks on your pebbled bud even harder.

His free hand is on your hip, but soon, it’s rising to massage your neglected breast. His warm palm feels so good- your eyes close in pleasure, your body reacting to Mingyu and the foreplay he’s providing.

You thread your fingers deeper into his curls, gently massaging his scalp while he works you up, teasing you in the best possible way.

He’s clearly solely focused on you, you don’t think there’s an ulterior motive, a motive of getting you to beg or forcing you to wait, you think he’s simply enjoying you, and you love the feeling of being enjoyed in this way.

Even so- now it’s your patience that’s running thin, and you tug at his curls, forcing his mouth away from your breast. He looks up at you with confusion, lips parting in a silent question.

“I need you,” you tell him, swallowing thickly. 

“You have me,” he assures you with a laugh. 

“I mean-”

His hand slips between your thighs, rubbing your pussy through your boxers. “You mean, you need me here,” Mingyu finishes for you.

Fuck, he’s so hot- part of you had expected him to be a virgin fairy who’s never been in love, but it’s clear from his dirty talk that he’s no virgin. 

Your pussy is wet, and you can feel a wet spot to match in your shorts, you’re sure Mingyu can feel it too.

“Since…” Mingyu takes a breath, and you can see his skin beginning to flush a pretty shade of pink, “since I’m the one who likes you more, maybe you’ll let me take my time and do what I want to do? Out of… pity?”

You laugh. “Pity? I don’t pity you- I kind of love you, Gyu, I said that-”

“Just kind of, though,” he points out, leaning down to bite your nipple gently.

You groan, arching your back and taking a deep breath. “Fine. Do whatever you want to me. Take your time. Worship me. Make me fall in love with you.”

Mingyu smiles, and then he whispers a soft, “Thank you,” before diving back toward your chest.

It’s clear that now that you’ve given him permission, he’s in no rush.

He worships your breasts, just like you’d told him to, taking all the time he wants to massage and lick and kiss and bite- and then, one of his hands returns between your legs, pushing your boxers to the side so he can access your dripping pussy.

He’s gentle at first, circling your sensitive clit and teasing your slit up and down. Then, after too much teasing for your tastes, he eases his finger into your tight hole. He’s gentle as he begins to finger fuck you, working you open at a snail's pace-

You think, as someone who time moves fast for, he really must be savoring every long moment of this. He wants to take his time with you, and for a fairy, that means something.

Mingyu’s lips are still wrapped around your nipple, and as he adds a second digit to your core, you think you might just combust.

“Gyu,” you whimper.

He hums in response.

“I’m close,” you tell him, beginning to wiggle your hips against his hand. “I’m so close-”

Mingyu’s palm finds your clit, and he finger fucks you harder, crooking his digits to reach a spot that has your toes curling.

“Oh my god-” you groan, closing your eyes and latching onto Mingyu’s hair as an anchor, keeping his face buried in your tits as he works you closer and closer to the edge-

One graze of his teeth across your nipple has you cumming on his fingers, and Mingyu releases his own sound of pleasure to echo the whimpers escaping your lips.

He’s got you pinned to the bed, there’s nowhere to go, nothing to do except take what he’s giving you.

He works you through your high, allowing you to feel every lick of pleasure as it courses through your entire body-

You’re a gasping mess at the end of it, and Mingyu gingerly removes his fingers from your pussy, pulling away from your chest to sit up on his knees, licking his digits clean as he inspects you carefully.

“Are you okay, my star?” 

You shiver at the nickname, a whispered echo of your pleasure running through you.

“Yeah,” you nod, still trying to catch your breath.

“Was that good for you?” he asks, teasing his wet finger across your nipple and making you shiver again. “It was good for me.”

“It was so good,” you groan, shifting against the bed.

“Good.” Mingyu hooks his fingers in your boxers, tearing them down your legs. 

You’re now completely bare for him, and you expect Mingyu to work on his jeans next, but he doesn’t. He lays down between your thighs, looking up at you as he peppers your skin with chaste kisses.

“Ready for more?” he questions.

You groan, and the groan turns into a laugh. “I guess I told you to do whatever you want to me,” you sigh, adjusting your legs so your feet are flat and your knees are bent, giving him better access to your pussy for what you know is about to come next. 

“You did.” Mingyu’s breath is hot against your still pulsing core, and you grab at the duvet in preparation, knowing he’s about to completely rock your world for a second time. 

Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, he continues to kiss up your thigh, and he doesn’t stop. When he reaches your core, he licks your clit gently, circling it.

You open your eyes, looking down at him to find his own lids are closed. He’s completely focused on pleasuring you, and as he pushes his tongue into your core, lapping at your slit- well, fuck, no thoughts are going through your mind.

You can only whimper, grabbing the duvet tighter, your toes curling deliciously as this man eats you out in a way that no man ever has.

He really is taking his time. It’s clear this isn’t just a duty or a ‘task’ he has to complete in order to fuck you, no, eating you out is as much his pleasure as it is yours, and somehow, that knowledge makes it even better.

You give yourself to the pleasure. There’s no anxiety, no racing thoughts, or pressures you’re imposing on yourself.

You know there’s not a time limit. Mingyu’s not eager to make you cum so he can fuck you, he’s simply enjoying the act of licking your pussy- so you simply enjoy it too.

You’re not keeping track of time, your focus is solely on the pleasure running through you, and the way it’s building.

Soon, you’re at the edge again, and you warn Mingyu, your thighs twitching around his head.

Mingyu groans in response, lips wrapping around your clit. A squeal escapes you, your chest heaving, back arching off the bed as your second orgasm slams into you.

This one is even more electric than the first, and it almost feels like you’re floating off the mattress- like you’re truly ascending to cloud nine, as if you - like Mingyu - have wings.

God, there’s not a feeling like it in the world, especially as Mingyu continues to suck your clit, working you through the most intense high of your entire life. Your legs are fully quaking around him now, your grip like a vice on the duvet.

Thank God you live in the middle of nowhere because you’re aware that you’re being loud. 

Mingyu’s groaning too, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you pinned and in place for him to eat you through the pussy contracting pleasure convulsions that are threatening to overtake your entire body in an ecstasy you’ve never, ever experienced before. 

The large man finally lets up, and you gasp, flopping back down against the bed. There are aftershocks of pleasure, and you jolt a little, goosebumps erupting on your flesh from the sensation. 

You feel the bed shift, and you look from under heavy lids to see Mingyu standing at the foot of the mattress, finally taking off his jeans.

Fuck, he’s huge- maybe foreplay wasn’t so much of a want, as a necessity. 

“You still want me?” Mingyu asks, joining you on the bed again, his breath hot against your throat as he grinds down against you, teasing his cock against your dripping pussy.

“Fuck, I need you,” you tell him.

Mingyu kisses you then, grabbing your hands and putting them above your head. He collects your wrists in one grip, and with his free hand, he grabs his cock, lining it up with your core.

“If it hurts-”

“You’ve made me cum twice,” you tell him, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.”

“Whatever you say, my star,” he grins, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes the head of his cock into your tight, wet hole.

You groan desperately, struggling against his grip on your wrists, but Mingyu doesn’t let up. In fact, he tightens his hold on you, pushing his cock even deeper into your core.

The sounds you’re making are feral as he kisses you, his lips and tongue are hot against your own in the most delicious way.

You can feel your pussy stretching to accommodate for his girth, and when his hips are finally flush against your own, you think this might just be the most full you’ve ever felt in your entire life.

Mingyu breaks the kiss, panting and looking down at you. “You feel perfect,” he whispers.

“You feel perfect,” you counter, feeling a little dim with your repetition of his own works back to him, but also too fucked out to think of anything better. 

He only grins, drawing his lips to yours. It’s a gentler kiss as he begins to fuck you, his motions slow so you can acclimatize to the massive cock that’s already rearranging your guts. 

You get lost in him, and there’s a kind of safety in having your hands pinned down above your head. You can’t quite explain it- maybe it’s just a size kink? You can’t have a bondage kink, can you? Does Mingyu even know what bondage is? Do fairies watch porn?

You push the thoughts from your head, focusing on the cock that’s dragging against your sensitive inner walls.

Soon, you’re moaning loudly again, and Mingyu finally lets up on your wrists. “I kind of…” he swallows thickly, thrusts faltering, “I kind of want you to ride me when you cum.”

“You do?”

“I’ve… well, I know I’ve been a little rough-”

“You haven’t been rough,” you assure him.

“I just mean, the first two times you came, I did what I wanted, and I want you to be in control for this last one, don’t want to overstimulate you.” 

It’s a soft idea, and you nod up at him. “I’ll ride you.”

“Good.” Mingyu kisses you gently, and then the two of you are adjusting.

He lays flat as you swing your leg over his hip, grabbing his cock to line it up with your core so you can slowly sink down on him.

Mingyu groans, his hands settling on your hips to help you be gentle as you come to a fully seated position on his cock.

“You look so perfect like this, my star,” he tells you, one free hand moving up to grab your breast, massaging it gently and pinching at your nipple.

“Think you can cum with me, Gyu?” you ask, beginning to bounce.

You watch Mingyu’s lips part in concentration, his gaze fixed on your chest. He’s clearly in a daze, and it’s adorable. “I’ll cum with you,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you smile.

Mingyu’s ears turn pink first, and it’s so endearing to watch the massive man flush from a compliment as you’re riding his cock.

God, he is a perfect man, isn’t he?

“I think… I think I was made to be found by you,” Mingyu says, looking up at you with eyes full of adoration. “I don’t know what I’d do If I never met you.”

“Gyu,” you coo, slowing your thrusts. Mingyu sits up, allowing you to pull him to your chest, cradling him to your breast as your fingers stroke through his hair. 

“I do love you,” he continues. “And… it’s okay if you don’t love me the same way yet. I know it’s fast, even for me, but… yeah.”

“It’s fast, but that’s okay. You don’t have to hide yourself from me,” you tell him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.

“You don’t have to hide from me either,” Mingyu promises.

He lays back down flat, and you move with him, your chests pressed together as you ride his cock, groaning into his ear.

Mingyu’s hands are warm on your hips, and he steadies you, beginning to thrust up to meet your movements.

You both release sounds of pleasure, and you can feel your hearts racing together in your chests as they remain pressed to each other.

You’re tired, but you’re also eager to cum again, so you push through, closing your eyes and focusing on the pleasure instead of the increasing burn in your thighs.

“Are you close?” Mingyu pants in your ear. “I’m close.”

His sounds are like magic, and they help drag you to join Mingyu on the edge. “I’m close,” you confirm, swallowing thickly.

“Can we cum together?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, muscles clenching in preparation. 

Mingyu fucks up into you even harder, and you put all of your energy into carrying this out, into riding this man until you pass out from how good everything is about to feel.

He releases another grunt, and you press your lips to his own, which is all it takes for you to both fall over the edge together.

You feel like you’re flying again, it’s almost an out-of-body pleasure-fueled experience, but this time, Mingyu’s with you, and you know you’ll be safe with the man who knows how to navigate the skies.

He cradles you to his chest, keeping his cock buried as deep as it can go in your core. You’re both kissing each other desperately, shaking and contracting from orgasms that continue to surge through you. Your hearts are racing together, and you’re both trying to catch your breaths even in the midst of a passionate kiss.

Everything just feels so right, and natural.

It’s as if your body was made to do this, with Mingyu especially.

Soon, your orgasms are subsiding, and you’re simply kissing now. 

Mingyu holds you close, not letting you go until he’s good and satisfied.

You take a deep breath, breaking the kiss to look down at him. “So…”

“So,” he grins.

“So… I guess this changes our arrangement a little?”

Mingyu laughs, holding you tighter. “Does this mean I don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse anymore?”

You find yourself chuckling too, and the contraction it causes of your pussy around Mingyu’s cock makes him groan desperately, his hand pushing on the small of your back. 

“You don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse.”

“I meant it when I said I’d give up my wings for you,” Mingyu muses, turning serious as he looks up at you.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“The future-”

“Is something we can talk about later,” you assure him. “Right now, I just want to enjoy you.”

“I guess… I guess we can do that,” Mingyu concedes. His arms wrap tighter around you, securing you down against his chest. He tucks you under his chin, releasing a deep breath, and that’s where you fall asleep, completely content with your blue-collared, human-sized, fairy lover.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! we all need a domestic blue collar man who's obsessed with us and wants to build our dream house for us ✨MANIFESTING IT💅

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🔮 preview. “I’m happy where I am… but, when you cum, I’ll let you warm up while I fuck you stupid.” Mingyu never used to swear. He used to call sex ‘making love’ and something about it had made you uncomfortable in some weird way- so your soft lover has taken to using profanity for your own benefit, and you can’t help the way your body reacts to the term ‘fuck you stupid.’

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, size kink, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple play, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, hand job, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 175

🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s summer, and you’re more in love than ever. Mingyu’s made you rethink what it is to live in your cottage. He’s done everything in his power to make it your dream home, and his latest upgrade is a small rowboat that he’d handcrafted with the purpose of meandering around your pond.

You can’t stop smiling and giggling as Mingyu rows you around, the sunlight kissing his skin in the most beautiful way. He’s so gorgeous, and his soul is just as stunning.

Every day is a dream with him… but there are still things on your mind, things you need to discuss. 

“Mingyu?” you ask, drawing his attention away from his haphazard rowing.

“Yes, my star?” he pauses to look at you, setting down the oars to give you his complete, and undivided attention.

“I’m just… I’m thinking.”

“That’s not always the best sign,” Mingyu teases. “Thinking about what?”

“Just… we’ve been together a while now, and, I guess I’m starting to look at the future more, and I’m not really sure how to envision it.” 

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[catsafari25]

A/N: Hello again, and with this I think (?) I may have succeeded in writing enough bionicle fic to get it out of my system (unless another plot bunny hits me like a cannonball, but... eh, we'll see) and thus, here is the companion piece to the Vakama & Roodaka oneshot.

This time, exploring the scene where Vakama entered the Great Temple, from his side of things! This was also partially inspired by the scene in Challenge of the Hordika where Nokama is almost physically repulsed in trying to enter the Great Temple :)

x

In the tunnels beneath the temple, Vakama must stoop.

At first he shuffles, mutated arm tucked against him and his sole hand brushing only briefly along the floor to steady himself, but the passages are dark and deep and lined with creatures which seek out the weak. The eyes that watch him are not hungry. They keep their bellies too full for that.

In the end, it is easier quicker to drop to all fours, to share the weight between claw and tool that feet alone cannot. His altered form folds into the new stance with frightening familiarity. It's comfortable.

Natural.

The crown of his mask grazes the tunnel's ceiling, but only in passing. His gait is sure. Well. Surer than the ungainly slouch it had been before.

It was said – back when Matoran were awake to say such things – that even the strongest swimmers of Ga-Metru would hesitate before plunging into the depths of the protodermis sea. Not because the creatures there had any fondness for the taste of Matoran. In truth, it was thought that the rahi actively disliked the flavour. No, it was because the way Matoran swam was indistinguishable from the rahi's usual prey. Only when they had sunk tooth and jaw into their meal would they realise their mistake.

It was an annoying, if harmless mistake for the rahi.

Matoran couldn't say the same.

Vakama's early crawl through the passage had been like that of a Matoran swimmer: functional, but slow and indiscernible from wounded prey. Creatures drag themselves down into these depths to die, in hopes that they will be devoured only when they are too far gone to feel it. The eyes are patient. They will wait to see if this newcomer is similarly inclined.

And so when Vakama drops to his haunches, the eyes blink. Reassess. He moves less like the hunted and more like the hunter now, more predator than prey, and the eyes – and teeth – keep their distance after that.

The path Vakama stalks through was once a protodermis pipe, made obsolete even before the cataclysm. Newer conduits had been built, more efficient, more resilient, and this one had been disconnected but never dismantled. When he reaches its origin, it takes some effort – and his blazer claw – to break the seal across the hatchway, but when he does, one of the temple's protodermis purification chambers looms above him.

The room beyond is quiet.

Unmarked.

He doesn't realise he's stopped until the chittering of his audience draws closer. The snarl he throws back echoes off the pipe's walls, and the eyes retreat, but do not leave.

Vakama curls his hand around the lip of the hatch, and then falters.

Something is wrong.

It's not a pain, because the feeling does not hurt as it ought, but something is undeniably, fundamentally wrong. It causes his breath to catch, his hand to flinch, and it would be so easy, so easy, to turn and walk away, only...

Only he came here for a reason.

The wrongness flares, amplified for a moment, and then he pulls himself up. The eyes watch, but do not follow. Do they feel it too? Can even such base creatures sense the innate malice the temple exudes?

He clambers out of the purification chamber – empty and abandoned now – and stumbles upon his landing. He catches himself, but does not rise back to his feet.

Wrong.

This is wrong.

And at the edge of the wrongness there is a strange sort of terror. It dreads the same way the fire fears the sea, the same way the prey fears the predator; it is the meeting of two primally antithetical forces where only one can survive. It whispers turn back through his mind.

He moves into the next room.

It's one he knows well. Light filters down from the rot-stained windows, centering – as it had the day he'd first seen it – on the suva, and casting long sentinel shadows of the columns standing to attention around it. A crack mars the suva, its stone dome now split cleanly in two from the quakes, and – drawn by some desire he cannot identify (instinct, curiosity... nostalgia?) – he approaches.

It seems so small now. Even bowed and altered in his Hordika form, he looms over the Ta-Metru symbol he'd once had to stretch to reach.

Unbidden, his hand moves to the niche where once he'd placed a Toa Stone – where once he had though himself chosen, duty-bound, destiny-gifted – and falters a breath from the stone.

The wrongness spikes.

Screams.

And with a twist of something he will not call horror, he understands it is not originating from himself.

But from the temple.

It is repulsion. It's alienation. It's recognising him, but as other, as rahi.

It's disgust that a monster would dare enter its sanctuary.

In the Ta-Metru carving, stone once polished to the point of fragmented reflection, he sees a glimmer of his own face. Neither Toa nor Matoran. Nothing blessed by Mata Nui.

Vakama recoils.

And then a wave of his own disgust, propelled by that fury that runs so close to the surface now, rolls through him. If you didn't want us as the Toa, you should've stopped Makuta from choosing us, he thinks, and digs his claws into the stonework.

The wrongness sings.

But he knows it for what it is now, and his morphed, clawed hand gorges scars through the carving. The stone is soft. Its makers had never imagined someone would take a blade to it.

There comes a tapping from across the room, echoing brazenly off the ancient stone walls, and Vakama retreats instinctively into the shadows. A Rahaga enters.

Norik?

No, this Rahaga's armour is more akin to a Po-Matoran than a Ta-Matoran's, the colour of dust and stone. Vakama tries to recall the Rahaga's name – and then dismisses the attempt.

It won't matter, in the end.

The Rahaga walks as he always has, stooped and slow, but clearly unhindered by the temple. He passes by the suva and runs one gnarled hand across the stonework, his movements marred by curiosity rather than reverence.

The rage arrives a fully-formed creation. It drowns out the wrongness, floods the apprehension, and he is moving before he's decided that this is the path he wants.

It is not pain, for it does not hurt as it ought.

But it does still hurt.

x

Whatever the Rahaga might once have been, they are old and weak now. Four are captured before Vakama's rage has a chance to cool, but the ire is no less dangerous when it does.

(That's the thing about Ta-Metru; it's not a place of fire so much as it is of magma. And magma doesn't extinguish with the cold; it sets. It moors itself into place, an unmovable, burning force.)

The rage settles, solidifies around his heart and lungs and carves a home between his breaths.

(Magma is not fire. It does not leap blindly from one source to the next. Instead it advances. Slowly. Steadily. It finds a channel, a destination, and it engulfs all in its path until it reaches it.)

He finds the last two remaining Rahaga, pathetically ignorant to their brothers' fates and still scavenging the temple for answers. He hears the way Norik appraises his sister's translation, relief clear in his voice that they are one step further on this wild rahi chase. Relief, surely, that the Rahaga are one step closer to regaining their Toa form.

(And Vakama's anger has found its destination.)

He does not descend on the Rahaga's leader the way he has the others. No. Norik will know what's coming for him first. He gets to fear. Vakama waits until Gaaki has gone, until Norik is alone, and then he circles. The wrongness thrums in his veins, weighing him down and labouring his breaths. It doesn't matter. Let Norik hear his approach.

Norik doesn't try to run. Vakama will give him that much. (A wise choice. Vakama intends for this encounter to last, but if Norik runs, Vakama cannot be sure he won't chase.) Instead, the malformed once-Toa calls out and actually tries to approach him. Stupid. Doesn't he know that he won't win any fight, transformed as he is? As both of them are? No, instead, he tries to talk. As if they are equals, as if Norik has done anything to deserve his respect rather than his scorn. As if he has earned the temple's forgiveness for his trespassing.

Even when Vakama raises the fate of Norik's fellow Rahaga, Norik attempts to sway him with the illusion of reason, talking of duty and unity, as if he's not using the other Toa Hordika to chase after a rahi myth for his own desires. As if their roles are in any way comparable, both Toa of Fire once, both leaders, it's true, but Vakama hasn't forgone his duty to chase after selfish needs.

And it stops now.

Vakama circles closer, and Norik is still talking, unease in his voice, but not fear. Still searching for the right words to turn Vakama to his bidding as he has the other Toa Hordika. Ever the voice of two-faced logic.

Why won't he just shut up?

Does Norik think him to be as gullible as the others? As quick to desert his duty as them?

And Vakama knows he wants – needs – to shake that assurance, that arrogance out of Norik. Needs to see that facade of self-righteous wisdom crumble into the terror of his situation.

The growl begins deep in his chest and, unleashed, it becomes a roar. He rears out of the darkness, into the weak sphere of light surrounding Norik – and there, there he finally sees true fear fill the old fool's eyes.

Something slams into Vakama and he reels, his roar cut short. His hand reaches automatically, defensively, to his mask. He finds only water there. It clings to him, imbued with some sort of power – he can feel something other in it – but otherwise impotent.

"Leave my brother alone," Gaaki snarls. She stands in the doorway, small and hopelessly overpowered, but her shoulders are tensed with a stubborness Vakama recognises. Already, her spinner is powering up for another shot.

Well. Two can play at that game.

Vakama's rhotuka fires into motion, but the water has seeped into the mechanism, and dowses the fire before it has a chance to catch. He gives it a withering look, before turning the expression onto Gaaki. "Very clever."

Another water spinner hits him, but this time he is braced for it and all it does is wash harmlessly off him.

"Is that all you have?" he asks. His blazer claw splutters, but the claws on his hand flex. After all, there's more than one way to defang a muaka...

Gaaki steps back. Good. She knows she's outmatched. "It's a devastating attack underwater," she offers, and her words are strong but there is a cracked edge to them.

"Then you'd better start finding a puddle," Vakama growls, "before my claws find you," and he drops into a run, feet pounding and fangs bared and that ever-present wrongness humming about him.

She doesn't flee. Just like Norik, she stands her ground, gnarled fingers wrapped tight around her staff. Her eyes are hard, but he sees the way her hands shake.

How long will her resolve last, Vakama wonders. Before or after the claws find their mark?

He never finds out.

He's knocked off his feet before he reaches her, and when he hits the ground, ropes of energy pin him to the earth, like a water-bound rahi caught in a net.

What–

Norik.

He'd forgotten Norik.

He thrashes against the restraints, but they hold strong – for now. His blazer claw splutters again, but it does nothing to the energy that binds him.

He stills as he hears footsteps approach.

The two Rahaga hobble into his line of sight. Gaaki is breathing hard, as if only now is she allowing herself to feel the fear. "You left that late, Norik," she says, and even the breath that follows sounds more like a shaken wheeze than a nervous laugh. "Almost too late."

"I only had the one shot. I couldn't afford to miss," Norik replies. "He's got our brothers. Gaaki, go find–"

"I'm not leaving you alone with him," she retorts. "I only went for a moment before, and look what would have happened if I hadn't returned."

Vakama tilts his head as well as the energy net will allow. He grins at the Rahaga, anger curdling it into a sneer. "Yes, Gaaki, you're very good bait, congratulations." He shifts his gaze to Norik. "But you've always been so good at getting others to do your dirty work, haven't you, Norik?"

Norik doesn't even have the decency of guilt. Instead, he simply looks tired. "Whatever you think you know–"

"I know the truth! You don't care about the Matoran, you only care about yourselves!" He strains against the ropes, and although they do not break, there's a little more give in them than before. He slumps back to the ground, breathing hard. "You might have the other Toa fooled. You might even have the temple fooled, but not me," he growls, and the temple's hatred presses down on him, straining his last words.

Gaaki places a frail hand on her brother's arm. "Norik," she says, and there is such unbearable sorrow in her voice. "He looks in pain."

"It's not my doing," Norik assures her softly. "My snare spinner only binds."

Vakama snarls. "I don't need pity from the likes of you. I know what you are."

"We're allies, Vakama," Norik says, in that insufferably reasonable way of his. "Friends."

"You're frauds," Vakama snaps. He twists against his restraints. They slacken, just a touch. "Liars. You don't deserve to walk these floors."

And the Rahaga stand there, unburdened by the temple's hate, strangers to this land, to Metru Nui, and yet it is Vakama the temple repulses? After everything he has forgone, the life he's abandoned, the friendships he's lost, Mata Nui punishes him?

His rhotuka fires off a fire spinner, and it goes wide, cracks a wall. Norik and Gaaki stumble back, Norik preparing another snare shot, but the energy net holding Vakama snaps. Vakama lurches forward, suddenly free, and slams into Norik.

The snare spinner wraps itself around a column. It lights up the room with crackling energy.

A blast of water grazes past his shoulder, too shy of hitting Norik to commit to taking the easy shot, and Vakama reels towards Gaaki. He fires with a snarl, but hears the snare spinner coming again and ducks at the last moment.

Again his own attack misses and the shot cleaves clean through a wall. Something on the other side begins to smoulder.

Then it begins to rumble.

It's a low sound at first, as deep as the earth and just as vast. Almost like a distant growl. But then the cracks begin to spiral out across the roof, along the columns, and the room buckles.

The light flickers. The frames of the high windows above collapse.

The world becomes fragmented, filled with flickering images. Falling masonry and toppling pillars and dust – but the sounds never relent. Even in the depths of the passing darkness, the thunder continues.

And when the dust settles, so does an awful silence.

Vakama straightens, or does his best approximation of it. Fragments of cracked protodermis fall from his shoulders, his head, his back. He withdraws the hand which has somehow found itself raised above Gaaki, knocking aside the stone slab caught against his arm.

Where's Norik?

Both Hordika and Rahaga stand side by side, that quietness disturbed only by the skittering of stone shards settling. There is wrongness in his breath, his head, and it's impossible to separate where the temple's ends and his begins. But any moment now, Norik will reappear from the wreckage, bearing that ever-same holier-than-thou look, and the anger will rise anew in Vakama.

Any.

Moment.

Now.

"You've killed him," Gaaki says, and her voice breaks that terrible stillness. She draws in a half-breath that cracks into a sob. "You've... oh, Norik..."

No.

No, it was an accident. He hadn't meant to– Norik had simply been in the wrong place. It wasn't as if he'd taken a blazer claw to Norik, or hit him directly with a fire spinner. He'd only meant to... what? What had he only meant to do?

Something swings towards him and he grabs the staff before he even registers what it is.

"He's not dead," Vakama says, and maybe if he says it, he might even believe it. He snaps his gaze to Gaaki, as if her grief is bringing it to pass. "He's not. He's not as easy to kill as that. When the others– when the Toa find him, he'll be fine. Fools like him always find a way to survive."

Gaaki attempts to pull her staff free, but her strength is no match for Vakama's. He wretches it out of her grasp and tosses it aside.

"Stop that."

She doesn't listen to him, only steps back and charges up her rhotuka. The grief in her eyes fogs into hatred.

The water spinner hits him but does little more than rock him.

"Stop."

Gaaki screams, a sound of rage and anguish, and releases a volley of spinners as ineffectual as the first.

Vakama's patience – or whatever had held him in place until now – snaps. He lunges forward. His claws close around the joints of Gaaki's rhotuka and pins the mechanisms harmlessly into place, in the same manner one might pick up a baby ussal crab by the widest edge of its shell. She thrashes, but Vakama's grip holds.

"I said, stop," he snarls.

She's breathing hard, her gasps sharp-edged with agony. "You killed him," she says, voice hoarse and hateful.

His insides twist, and – Gaaki hauled by his side – he starts the ascent to where the rest of the Rahaga are trapped. He doesn't look back to the rubble. Doesn't glance for one last glimpse of Norik's resting place.

He's not dead. He's not dead he's not dead he's not

The wrongness, the hatred, has woven so deep into him, it's almost a part of him now.

Toa don't kill. Vakama can't remember who taught him that (he recalls, briefly, the flash of a gold mask, but it comes with pain – grief – and he pushes it aside before it can take root) but it gnaws at him like a trapped stone rat. Toa don't kill.

But he was never meant to be one.

And if the Great Temple – if Mata Nui – thinks a mistake was made in Vakama's destiny....

Well. That's somebody else's problem.

x

The Hordika that returns to Roodaka is different from the one she sent out. There's something new in his eyes... or perhaps something lost.

"How was the temple, Vakama?" she asks when it's just the two of them.

He looks to her. Beneath the anger, beneath the rahi, there's almost a haunted look to those eyes. It vanishes a moment later, but Roodaka never doubts her own eyes.

"Unwelcoming," he replies, and Roodaka smiles. She could have suggested Vakama pick the Rahaga off one by one in the chaos of Metru Nui, outside where her Visorak could have been an aid... but the temple had been too good an opportunity to miss.

"Good." She sets a hand on his shoulder. "You owe no loyalty to Mata Nui, Vakama. Not anymore."

He rolls his shoulder, but not sharp enough to dislodge Roodaka's hand.

"One thing I do not understand," she says. "What happened to the sixth Rahaga?"

The Toa growls. It is a gutteral sound, rooted deep in the chest and at home in a way it wasn't before. "You wanted a message left for the other Toa. I needed a messenger."

"Alive?"

Vakama shrugs his shoulder again, and this time she lets him roll her hand loose. "Does it matter, so long as they understand?" he growls.

No, Roodaka concedes as she surveys the remains of the Toa before her. She supposes not.

[lighthouseas]

full disclosure. in the world of tsad, josephine elizabeth mouse wheeler (a.k.a. mike's porch cat) is NOT cute by any means. mike thinks she is, but she's actually like. yk those raggedy ass dishcloths? yeah imagine that as her fur and then she also only has one eye. see also: this cat has been living under a muddy porch for the better part of a year. this girl REEKS. mike loves her though. she is his little creachur.

[tragedykery]

babe wake up new oc lore just dropped (aka long ramble about hira under the cut)

the thing about hira is. she grew up in an orphanage in the western earth kingdom. she was left there as a baby with nothing but her name. she doesn’t know who her parents were, where she’s from, and when her efforts to figure this out prove fruitless, it hurts. she longs for family, for knowledge and identity and culture, only spurred on by the feeling of alienation from (and perhaps jealousy towards) her peers.

(and maybe she conflates those different types of longing, maybe she thinks if she discovers what nation her parents were from she’ll find a new family there.)

so when she finds out she can airbend, she’s overjoyed. she throws herself into learning everything she can about the bending and the culture. she makes plans to go to the temples when she gets off the ship. when she gets there, she’ll finally have a family. she’ll finally be at home.

and that is one of the reasons she struggles so much when she realises she actually likes it on the ship. she likes being with these people, these pirates who have actually begun to feel like some sort family to her. the ship feels like home. and that’s why, eventually, she stays.

(and also, she’s scared. she’s scared they won’t accept her at the temples, that she isn’t air nomad enough. that she doesn’t know enough. she’ll go, just later. not yet.)

she stays, and keeps learning. she learns to meditate, to write air nomad script and speak air nomad languages, to cook air nomad recipes, all under the tutelage of sita (though for the last one, chusak helps too). she’s almost a bending prodigy.

and then she discovers she’s the avatar. and she refuses to believe it.

because being the avatar would mean being not really an air nomad. it would mean a duty to the world, and with that, an inability to fully comply with air nomad philosophy. the avatar can’t stay detached from worldly matters or choose not to harm.

so she denies it.

eventually, with the help of her friends (her family) she learns to separate the concepts of family and culture and identity and bending. she learns her worth doesn’t depend on those things, that she can be multiple things at once, that she doesn’t have to choose. she can do her duty as the avatar and still be an air nomad.

can bend any of the elements and speak both the languages of the eastern air temple and a small village in the west of the earth kingdom and prefer her tea the way it’s served in tea houses decked out in green but prefer her bread the way it’s eaten by nuns and have it be okay. she doesn’t have to choose or change or be perfect to be loved. her family is a motley pirate crew made up of people who find their origins in all four corners of the globe, and they celebrate all their wonderful differences.

so indeed, I think more than anything, wind in the sails is a story about identity & culture & personal growth.

[simpjaes]

serial-sweetheart (s.jy & p.sh)

Dating the strict, well-liked, and loving Sunghoon came with its hurdles. Normally, the two of you could communicate and work through the downsides, but what if the newest downside of the relationship is learning that his little brother, Jake, has a bit of a thing for you? 

MDNI!!

WORDCOUNT― 23.6k

PAIRING― shy jake x afab reader | sunghoon x  afab reader

CONTENT― sunghoon and reader are 24, jake is 21. boyfriend sunghoon, perverted/shy college boy jake, panty stealing, hidden intimacy, needy jake, dom-ish sunghoon in smaller/less detailed smut scenes, reader is definitely a switch depending on who she is looking at, uh, brief mention of heeseung raging at jake through a headset while he gets pleasured lmao

WARNINGS― infidelity that doesn’t get exposed, foot job but only bc i can’t figure out how to write a scene like this if it’s not your foot lmao, there are intimate things happening between reader and jake in like, almost every fuckin scene.

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because i wrote it for a different band on my other blog(@/ncteez). this is a revamp of that fic, freshly edited and updated. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― infidelity,  rough sunghoon, jake listens through the walls, tons of masturbation, he also steals panties and gets caught and embarrassed by reader, mentions of double penetration, lil under the table moment with jake, foot job but i swear im not into feet just hear me out ok? It’s brief i swear, sexting and phone sex, reach-around hand job, jake isn’t entirely subby when he finally gets his dick wet, penetration, pet names, sexting, g-spot stimulation, cream pie, unprotected sex, 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The two years you’ve spent so far with Sunghoon can arguably be considered the best of your life. He’s accommodating, listens to all of your problems, touches you in all of the right ways, and he’s even well-liked by your parents. You love your boyfriend enough to spend countless nights at his place just to get away from your own. It’s comfortable there, and feels like home, whereas your own apartment just feels empty without him. 

The relationship felt very adult. He was the first boyfriend to stay with you longer than a couple of months, the first one to have his own house, job, money, and car. The two of you were equal, comfortable, and happily in love. Anyone could trust that both of you were running towards the path of marriage, and you’d agree with them if it weren’t for the fact that your eye is dangerously close to landing on someone else lately.

In your defense, your eyes didn’t linger before Jake, Sunghoon’s younger brother, moved in. You had no interest in anyone aside from Sunghoon but, Jake is really something else. Cute, loud, obnoxious, and even charming at times. Still, you’ve caught him countless times staring for too long at your legs when you wear shorts around the house, lingering in the room when Sunghoon has his lips on yours, and even stuttering through conversations with you after a wild night in the bedroom with his older brother. 

It was cute at first, but as the months went on, you started staring at Jake a little more. You’d note that he gets flustered easily but can’t bring himself to leave any given situation that causes such a reaction. He gets hard sometimes too, you can see it, and occasionally you can hear him take care of it too. 

The first night you heard it, Sunghoon was sound asleep next to you after a long, drawn-out session of putting you in your place (sexually). You were comfortable beside him, listening to his soft snores and finally settling yourself in to close your eyes and sleep too.

It was so silent, the entire house seemed as empty as it always had been outside of you and your boyfriend, except for the fact that Jake was in this house now too. You shot an eye open at the sound of a muffled moan through the wall. You could tell he tried to prevent it, noticing that it appeared to be choked back almost as quickly as he let it fall from his lips.

You laid there, first attempting to sleep but ultimately falling victim to the thoughts of what Jake must have been doing just a wall over. You felt guilty about the images, imagining how cute he must look tugging at himself and whimpering, frustrated at how he can’t make a sound. Jake knows how thin the walls are, you’re sure of it. Even you and Sunghoon have tried to be quieter so Jake doesn’t have to hear it and feel uncomfortable. 

The choked-back sounds he was letting out every few minutes only furthered your thoughts into the danger zone that night. You realized you wanted to watch him. You wanted to help him. And when Jake hit his high, you heard his bed frame hit the wall one time, hard. The image of him lying on his back and fucking against his fist was long gone and replaced with images of what position he could have been in for the bed to hit to wall like that. What was he doing? 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Good morning, sunshine!” You sing out obnoxiously to your boyfriend when he rounds the corner in a sleepy show of how much he doesn’t want to go to work today. He’s already dressed but you can see the darkened bags under his drooping, half-open eyes. 

You don’t often make breakfast for him, not that he minds at all, you just felt guilty about listening in on Jake doing his thing again last night and it’s not something you’re proud of. So yeah, maybe Sunghoon gets breakfast every time his little brother jerks off, what of it? 

“Thanks, babe,” Sunghoon smiles at you weakly, looking at the warm breakfast you place in front of him. “What if I just call in today?” He asks almost immediately after, tearing his eyes from the food and up to you, who had begun to fix a part of his hair that he seemed to have missed. 

“Up to you, I’ve gotta head back to my place soon though.” You look at him, hands on your hips now as you give him another once-over. “You look tired, maybe you should call out.” 

Sunghoon takes a moment to think. What would his excuse be to miss work on a Monday morning after already having two days off? He’s sick? That wouldn’t work, he ran into one of his bosses just the night before picking up some groceries. Car trouble? Also wouldn’t work, he used that excuse last time and he swore he took his car to the shop that very day to make sure it was in tip-top shape. Death in the family? That’s just asking for bad karma. 

“Ugh,” Sunghoon sighs, picking up his fork and picking around the plate. It looks delicious, honestly, but work is the last place he wants to go right now. “How are you so awake? We stayed up so late, are your legs even tired?”

You stop mid-step towards the fridge to grab some juice and turn to look at him. 

“Sunghoon, my legs are killing me, and it’s your fault.” 

He lets out a small laugh, giving himself a gold star for making you cum just as hard as he always did. “Yeah, guess it is my fault, isn’t it?” He prods for more compliments.

“That aside, are you going to call out or?” 

He shakes his head, taking a bite and trying his best to enjoy this last hour of freedom before a nine-hour workday. 

“No, I don’t think I’d have a good excuse today. You’re going home anyway too, I’d just be bored.”

“Umm–” Jake’s voice chimes in as he scuffs into the kitchen with socked feet. He yawns wide and side-eyes you only for a moment before flopping down on the chair next to Sunghoon with his legs spread wide. He looks like such a college boy. Looking equally as tired as your boyfriend and hair far messier, you note his side eye. “Are you saying I’m too boring to hang out with?”

You let out a small chuckle at Jake’s words, and Sunghoon just groans about it. 

“You’re still just as annoying as you’ve always been. I’d rather be wasting away at a desk than sitting here listening to you talk about the exam you’re not studying for.”

“I don’t have exams yet?” Jake protests, looking over Sunghoon's food and swiping a piece from his plate. “The semester hasn’t even started.”

“I’m preparing for what’s to come–” Sunghoon drones on in a defeated voice. 

“Fair,” Jake smiles and looks at you. “So, um, you’re going home today?”

“Yep, gotta go to work too.” You sigh, pointing towards the stove. “Want some food?” 

Jake shuffles to his feet to make himself a plate with a small “thank you”, and you can’t help but notice how disappointed he sounds that you’re going home today. 

“You’re coming over on Wednesday though, right?” Sunghoon asks, sipping the mug of coffee in front of him and finally allowing himself to enjoy the food you’ve graciously made this morning. If he’s gonna have to go to work, the least he can do is feel lucky that he’s not going in on an empty stomach. 

“What’s on Wednesday again?” You smile towards your boyfriend’s now narrowing eyes. 

“You know what Wednesday is.”

“Hm, no, don’t think I do–” Smiling wider at the way his eyes narrow even further.

“What’s Wednesday?” Jake asks, setting down his plate and taking a bite. 

“Yeah, tell him what Wednesday is.” Sunghoon says in an annoyed tone, one that you can tell is a joke. He always plays along with your antics.

“I think it’s like, national fork day or something.”

Sunghoon brings a hand to his forehead with a laugh. “Fork day? That’s all you can come up with?” 

Jake is just confused, clearly. 

“I’m joking. It’s our two-year anniversary.”

You hear a spoon clatter to the table and a small cough. 

“Ugh-” Jake groans, picking the cutlery up off the table and wiping the crumbs clean. “That’s cool.”

Jake can see the way Sunghoon looks at him with his reaction, but it genuinely wasn’t intentional. He just happened to drop his spoon at the wrong time and choke on his food. It wasn’t meant to be as dramatic as it sounded. Also, maybe he’s a little shocked that Sunghoon managed to have a girlfriend for this long with how much of a bore he can be at times. 

Especially someone like you. 

Jake feels shy at the very idea of you, not just because he’s heard what you sound like when his brother touches you, but also because you’re just, like, really pretty and it makes his thoughts go in every direction when you speak to him. 

Even now, just over a small breakfast, he’s disappointed that you have a job too. He’s sad that he can’t spend time in this house with you alone even though he knows well enough that he probably wouldn’t have it in him to approach you. 

Or does he? Knowing that from time to time, like when he first moved in, there had been some days where you stayed over and did your work-from-home stuff. He wasn’t well acquainted with you back then enough to come out and sit with you, and he’s likely not acquainted enough now either, but that doesn’t change the fact that he kind of wants to be around you without his brother taking note of the small crush he kind of maybe developed by being around you.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Today is expected to be more exciting than your last anniversary. Mostly because it’s marking a second year with Sunghoon and solidifying the fact that the two of you have made it this far without any glaring issues that could threaten the relationship. At least, no issues that Sunghoon is aware of. 

You think that these thoughts and images of Jake swimming in your head are a phase. In fact, you hope they are. There’s no way you’d ever actually go through with anything involving your boyfriend’s little brother. He’s just kind of cute to see all flustered, even cuter when he tries to hide how he’s feeling regarding you. 

Jake isn’t there when you walk through your boyfriend’s door. Unfortunately, neither is Sunghoon. 

Grabbing your phone and checking the time you’re distracted by the glaring text message from your boyfriend that seemed to have been sent some ten minutes ago as you got in your car for the drive over. A little wave of disappointment hits you as you stand alone in the darkened kitchen. 

Sunghoon: hey i’m gonna be a little late. Boss got a last minute client today, like an hour before closing time so i’m gonna be here at least until 8:30

Sunghoon: is that okay?

The disappointment fades away with how good he is at communicating with you. Your last boyfriend who you only dated for like two months always bailed without notice on dates, ghosting you for a full day or two before explaining himself with one of the same excuses Sunghoon probably uses to get out of work. You know his job is important to him, and you know the anniversary is important to him. His priority doesn’t always have to be you.

You: Yeah that’s fine. What am i supposed to do for three hours though? I’m already at your place (sparkly eye emoji)

Sunghoon is�� great at texting you back too.

Sunghoon: you could get yourself ready for me to come home ;) 

You: for 3 hours?

Sunghoon: yes???? or you can just go bug Jake lol

The silence in the house tells you that Jake isn’t home.

You: he’s not here, i figured he went out to give us some privacy?

Sunghoon doesn’t respond for a few minutes, probably because he’s doing something important with his work. By the time you’ve slipped off your shoes and laid against the couch, you get the little ping on your phone..

Sunghoon: Oh, right, he was gonna go meet with some girl he was talking to. I figured he’d chicken out and not go lol, maybe we really will have the house to ourselves tonight ;)

Something inside of you twists at his message. On one hand, you’re happy that you might get the entire house with your beloved boyfriend tonight, on the other hand, you kind of don’t like the thought of Jake losing the ability to get all flustered around you if he’s got someone else doing it for him. 

Are you jealous? No, but you’re a little selfish. You always liked when men chased you even if you knew it would lead nowhere, even if they knew it would lead to nowhere. It was harmless fun, but now all of your fun is gonna be ruined. The last thing you want to be hearing is Jake railing some girl in his room while you’re trying to sleep. 

You: oh yeah? lets hope we don’t have to be quiet tonight then, i have //plans//

Sunghoon: plans? 

You: better get done with work soon so can come home and see <3

With that, you set your phone down and reach for the remote. 

Jake is out with a girl right now? Part of you wonders how he’s navigating it, or if the girl is actually into him. The images in your head are amusing until you realize that you’re not imagining him stumbling over himself with some faceless girl. You’re imagining yourself as the girl he’s out with.

Even on your anniversary, you’re bored and you’ve got some hours to kill anyway. You sort through all sorts of images in your head. From what Jake would do if you were to reject him to what he would do if you didn’t reject him. How he would act if you were leaning in to kiss him, or how he would react if you kissed his neck, started touching his stomach, trailing your hands down– straight until you’re assuming that Jake must be getting a hand job somewhere right now. A little disappointed that it’s not you, you laugh at yourself. 

Silly thoughts like these are normal and you’re sure Sunghoon has them too. Despite the fact that you’d be weirded out if it were about your little sister if you had one. You’re not hurting anyone passing the time and thinking about how things would go with Jake. Surely not. It’s just a fantasy and nothing more. 

It will never be anything more.

Besides, Sunghoon was never shy toward you. Always shooting his shot in charming and convincing ways that have managed to lead to a two-year relationship that’s still going strong. He didn’t leave as much to the imagination at the beginning of your relationship, nor does he now. You can’t even imagine Sunghoon being insecure or lacking confidence in anything he does, but then there’s Jake. The little brother appears to live in the shadow of Sunghoon. From Jake attending college for the same thing to wanting the same woman that Sunghoon is in love with.

Are you too full of yourself for chuckling about that? Laughing at the fact that he’s so entirely different from your boyfriend but that’s the exact reason you find yourself fantasizing about the ‘what if’s’ with him? 

Now the thought of what Jake would do if he knew you were thinking about him this way infiltrates your mind. Would he panic? Surely. Would he blush? Oh yeah, for sure. Would he try to play it off as a joke until realizing you’re serious, visibly shivering as you watch him imagine? Oh– would he tell Sunghoon? Would he get cocky? So many thoughts that are both scary, cute, and…hot. 

You look at the clock on your phone again and realize how slowly the time is passing. Jake’s out getting tugged at by some girl, Sunghoon is at work being an obedient employee, and what are you doing? Sitting on the couch in a daze.

Glancing around a bit, you shake your head at a specific thought. 

Jake’s room.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・��

Against your better judgment and several hours on hand to spend, you find yourself in Jake’s room. Because of course you do. 

 You don’t know why your legs carry you here, but then again you kind of do. Curiosity. You don’t really plan on snooping or anything, you just kind of want to see how he lives when he’s by himself. You want to see if he made his bed or folded his clothes. When you note that the loser definitely does not do either of those things, a flash of pastel blue is catching your attention.

In the mess of Jake’s room, monochrome colors of black and gray come through the most. From sweatpants to band t-shirts, you weren’t expecting to see a glimmer of pastel silk peeking from under one of his pillows. 

It wouldn’t have caught your attention if it wasn’t for the fact that you recognize the color and even remember the day you purchased them. Those are your panties stuffed under Jake’s pillow. 

You find yourself smirking in an evil kind of way as you make your way toward the dainty fabric and pull it from the pillow. You can confirm it now, they’re yours, and you remember wearing them just the past weekend you were over. It was normal for you to leave some of your laundry at Sunghoon’s place after staying the weekend, it’s not like you aren’t here multiple times a week or anything. 

Jake must have taken them from the laundry basket in the bathroom. The thought of him that morning when you made breakfast, acting as casual and normal as ever. The harsher thought of how you listened to him again after Sunghoon had fallen asleep the night before, furiously reaching his climax. 

You spread the fabric against your fingers and laugh at the stain on them. This must have been what he was using that night, thinking of you, surely, right? God, Sunghoon would kill him if he found out.

And just as you go to look around to see if he’s stolen more of your intimate wares, you hear the front door open and you panic, shoving the panties into your back pocket and rushing out of his room to the bathroom just across the hallway.

In your slight panic, you manage to stand by the bathroom door and listen to the footsteps coming down the hallway. It’s definitely Jake because Sunghoon would have called you to let you know he was coming home. 

Checking the clock again, it’s barely six and you’ve now got two or so hours pretending that you didn’t just find your panties in Jake’s room. Or, maybe, you don’t have to pretend. Maybe you can just fluster and embarrass him more now. 

You reach over and flush the toilet and then step to the sink to actually wash your hands because you definitely were just handling cum-stained panties, and then you step out of the bathroom acting surprised that he’s here.

“Oh!” You exclaim, stepping out of the bathroom and looking directly at Jake through his bedroom door as he’s in the middle of throwing himself against the bed in frustration. “Didn’t think you’d be here today?”

Jake nearly jumps out of his skin despite knowing someone was in the bathroom. He wasn’t expecting to be addressed by you or Sunghoon today.

“Yeah, me either.” He groans, throwing his hand over his face. “You scared the fuck outta me–”

“Ah, you seem frustrated. Why?” You ask, taking a step forward and leaning against the doorframe to his room, crossing your arms. “Sunghoon said you were on a date or something?”

Jake groans again, lifting his back from the mattress to sit up and starts shaking his head in defeat. The fact that you’re talking to him right now only makes him feel worse. He’s embarrassed enough by the happenings of the past hour or so, now he has to sit here and answer your questions about it?

“Yeah, I was supposed to be but she ended up just using me as a ploy.” 

You only chuckle because of course that’s the type of shit that’ll happen to him, but also like, you’re kind of glad the date wasn’t a date, even if he didn’t know it.

“A ploy?”

“Turns out, she was just trying to make some guy jealous. He literally served us our drinks. ”

“Oh yeah? Then what happened?” You question, prying now. 

“When he was coming up to the table, she told me to kiss her so I did. Then as soon as he walked away, she was back on her phone and texting. She accidentally texted me I guess, saying that ‘the plan is working, he’s definitely jealous’.” Jake mocks the text message in a whiny voice.

You laugh a little louder this time, eyes darting to the pillow he had your panties tucked under.

“Why are you laughing? I’m miserable.” Jake is casual when he talks about it, but you note that he lets out a small chuckle too. “Why would someone even use me to make a guy jealous?”

You freeze for a second. Here’s your first opening.

“Because you’re cute?”

Jake freezes now too, glancing away from you with what you think is that shyness you’d seen so much before. It’s definitely shyness, if his quick-flushed cheeks are anything to go by.

 For Jake, out of everything that’s just happened to him, at least you think he’s cute, but it’s not like he can have you or actually use your compliment as an ego boost considering you’re dating his big brother.

“Anyway,” You offer an out, noting his avoidance a little more now that you know what he’s been doing in his free time with your personal items. “Sunghoon will be home later for our anniversary, sorry for what you’re gonna hear later–” 

Second opening.

“I know it’s weird to ask but I left a cute pair of panties last time I was here. They’re his favorite. I can’t find them.”

Jake stands to his feet quickly and casually throws his jacket over the pillow you had pulled them from earlier. Upon the very mention of your panties, he feels caught, like he’s got three shining spotlights directed at him to warn you of the panty thief. 

“I don’t know, what color were they?” He awkwardly asks, trying to avoid looking at you, not even questioning that you’re asking him when you’ve never so much as asked what he does in his free time. He can’t even tell that he’s telling on himself right now. 

“Light blue, silk.” You deadpan, looking at him.

“Oh, I might have seen them in the laundry. I’ll go look.”

Before you can even protest, Jake is shuffling past you and rushing towards the laundry room. You follow behind him casually, not in the slightest bit of a hurry with a cheeky smile hidden from his view.

“I already checked in here. The dirty laundry too.”

“Did you check Sunghoon’s drawers? He did laundry yesterday, they’re probably in there.” 

Jake is talking so fast that it’s almost sad. If you could pinch his flushed cheeks right now, you would.

“Smart boy.” You compliment with a finger in the air, walking towards Sunghoon’s room just to see what Jake will do next when you tell him they’re not there. 

You lazily look through all of your panties stuffed into Sunghoon’s drawers and head back out to Jake’s room after a few moments. Quietly, you peek around the door and only laugh at him when you see that his pillow is overturned and he’s digging through a clothes pile in the corner of his room. The fact that he didn’t even close his door is hilarious, but you imagine it was an afterthought considering time is against him.

“Did you find them?” You ask, watching him nervously stop searching and stay in place on the floor facing away from you. You can practically tell the cold sweat that hit him.

“N-no.” He says quickly. “Did you?” 

“Yep.” You say, pulling the panties out of your pocket.

Jake relaxes, choosing to believe that somehow, the panties he had tucked under his pillow managed to walk themselves to the laundry room, step into the washer, then the dryer, and then place themselves neatly into Sunghoon’s drawer. Never will he let himself think that you found them, or even worse, Sunghoon found them.

When his shoulders relax and he turns to look at you, you see him stiffen up just as much as before when you swing the panties around your finger, stopping to present them in a way that shows the massive cum stain. 

“Guess Sunghoon needs to find a new favorite, huh?” You joke, tossing them onto Jake’s bed and walking away. 

As you walk down the hallway with a smile on your face, you can hear Jake’s frantic footsteps rush up behind you. 

“Wait! It’s not–” He tries to explain the situation away. “It’s not what it looks like!”

“My panties under your pillow aren't what it looks like?” You turn to face him at the end of the hallway, and with the way he was quickly following you, he runs directly into you and has to stumble back from the close proximity of you in front of him. He’s never even touched you before. Never hugged you, prodded you, or even looked at you for too long when your eyes were already on him. 

“No–” He goes to say with a deep swallow of nervousness, but you interrupt him. 

“Jake, you’re lucky it was me who found them and not your brother.” 

“I know,” Jake stutters out, looking to the floor. “But really, I didn’t mean to-”

“If you didn’t mean for me to find them, you should have stuffed them further back. They were hanging out for anyone to see, Jake.”

He stops for a moment. You’re telling him how he should have hidden them?

“Wait–” 

Only now does Jake realize your comment of Sunghoon needing to find a new favorite pair of underwear before you tossed them back on his bed. He’s gotta be thinking too positively to imagine you’re giving him the panties and offering tips on how to keep them from Sunghoon, right? Like you only gave them back because you’re disgusted by him, right? 

“Really, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I took them.”

An admittance. You feel like you’ve won the game and you’re definitely in the position to ask more questions. 

“You don’t? Try and think of a reason then.” You ask, taking a step towards him.

You can see how that single step forward overwhelms him, so much so that he takes a step back, feeling frozen when his eyes glance up at yours. He can’t pull his eyes away this time with the way you’re looking at him. 

There’s a smirk against your lips and he can’t sense a single bit of anger. Cautiously, he tries to avoid your question. 

“I don’t know why.” He repeats, staring down at you as you look at him and take another step forward. 

“I think we both know why you stole them.” You smile wider, lifting slightly to where you’re just inches from his face. “Did you think of me?”

“Yeah,” He sighs out, somewhat lost in your gaze as if he has managed to become hypnotized by the way you’re speaking with him. Then he shakes himself out of it, taking a step back with a muttered out string of “I mean, no!” 

You close in against him just as you did before, not allowing him to escape the hold you have on him. You’re just as close as you were before he stepped back, and you continue. 

“You did? Do you listen in on what Sunghoon does to me too?”

Jake takes another step back, this time knowing full well that you’ll just follow him again. And you do, practically walking him back through the hallway and against the wall after passing his room. 

“I mean,” He admits. “Sometimes.” 

You smile as he tries to back himself up further against the wall. 

“Why not all the time?” You follow up, watching the way his lip quivers a bit from the nervousness within him. 

Unbearably cute is what Jake is at this moment, trapped and caught. 

“You guys get too quiet, I guess?” He answers as if it’s his own question, wondering if it’s what you want to hear. His belly is doing flips though, admitting these things to you and feeling as if you’ll make fun of him, mock him, tell on him. It’s a horrifying thought. 

“You’re too quiet sometimes too.” You smile before backing away and turning to walk back toward the end of the hallway. 

Jake hangs his head wondering what the fuck just happened and if you were actually implying certain things toward him. He can barely bring himself to care that you hear him masturbate. He tries to be quiet, honestly, he does. But it’s hard sometimes when he’s rubbing his cock against the silk of the panties you just gave back to him, even harder when he’s hearing you through the walls and he imagines if you’d make the same sounds for him. 

Pulled from his thoughts, he hears you turn the volume up on the tv before shouting at him.

“Jake?” You say, waiting for him to respond quietly from out of view.

“Yeah?” He responds as he makes his way back to his room. 

“I’ll be loud tonight.” 

Jake closes his bedroom door feeling like his body is on fire and like his mind is spiraling into a place where it shouldn’t be. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When Sunghoon got home, Jake made it his mission to not step foot out of his bedroom until the two of you were passed out. Thankfully, he had taken a quick bathroom break while also trying to avoid letting you hear that he left his room right before Sunghoon came back.

Jake almost feels like prey right now, additionally, he’s confused about the entire situation with you. 

He tried to be a good person and not fantasize about his brother’s girlfriend by making a profile on a dating app, but even now as he scrolls through all of the pretty faces, he knows that none of them would just let him steal their panties like you did. Not that it’s a hobby of his or anything, he saw your panties and he took the chance to give him a better orgasm next time around. Now he’s kind of obsessed with the idea though.

He had already placed the panties back under his pillow and stuffed them further back by now, and hearing you and Sunghoon in the living room doing couple-things doesn’t really help the confusion in his head. If you’re in there all lovey-dovey with his brother, why did you get up so close to him earlier? Why did you offer to be loud for him? Why did you do any of what you did?

It feels wrong that everything just makes him want you more. Before, he was just being a horny guy, but now he’s like, maybe only horny for you.

Maybe it’s just a phase, surely it’ll pass. He loves his brother. 

Then he finds himself questioning if that’s the truth as the night goes on. 

Jealousy is a hateful demon. When he hears the shuffling into Sunghoon’s room and the giggles coming from both of you, Jake almost wants to hit someone. Why can’t he have that? Why does Sunghoon always get to experience all the good things in life?

Not only was Jake used by some pretty girl today, he is now being shown yet again what he can’t have and will probably never have. The jealousy is only worse, as he faceplants into his pillow and considers moving back in with his parents so that way he can stop wanting what his brother has. 

The consideration is furthered when he grows frustrated at the sounds of you through the wall. He can even hear Sunghoon shush you a few times. 

Unfortunately, against Jake’s will, his cock starts to grow against the mattress and his thigh, fingers now tucking further under the pillow to find those silk panties that caused his ultimate demise today. It’s instinctual at this point, despite how shameful he feels. He seriously just can’t resist touching himself when he hears you, even through the frustration and annoyance. 

When he runs his fingers along the fabric, still tucked beneath the pillow, he whines to himself at how pathetic it is for him to keep doing this. Only when he realizes that you’re over there being fucked and being loud specifically for him to hear does he pull them out and roll over onto his back.

All confusion and worry is left behind now as he replaces those anxieties with the idea of you grinding against him while wearing these panties. He thinks about how you like it, how you move your body, what you’d do with your hands. 

His cock twitches to be free just a few moments later and he doesn’t think twice about lowering his sweatpants and staring down at himself. He sighs in defeat at the image, noting how much harder he is now compared to the nights before when he weakly worked himself up to the faint sounds of you

From across the wall, you’re enjoying yourself far too much. Jake kind of falls into the back of your guilty mind as your boyfriend loves on you. Sunghoon came home excited, a hand was on you the entire time from the moment he walked through the door until now. Both hands are on you now as he praises you and pries your legs open.

 Usually, Sunghoon is rougher. He’d do things that drive you insane, edge you, and deny you pleasure over and over again until he felt it was time to let you let go. The added attempts to be silent only made it more fun for your boyfriend, gagging you with his cock, fingers, or even your own panties. Tonight though, tonight is a little different considering it is the two-year anniversary of his relationship with you.

The plan you had for Sunghoon tonight was for him to use a new toy on you that you’d bought in secret. He always wanted to try double penetration with you but is never willing to share you, and you don’t mind that at all. Still, you wanted to fulfill one of his fantasies, and that’s what the intention is. 

To your surprise though, Sunghoon leaves the toy still in its package on the table and has been eating you out for a solid twenty minutes already.

He’s focusing on you entirely at this moment and it’s got your head spinning with the way his wet tongue flicks your clit while his lips envelop the entire bud. He’s so good at it, and usually only does this when you’ve been extra good for him, like if you willingly choke on his entire length or you let him overstimulate you to the point that getting head from him is painful. 

His head is between your legs lapping away and all you can do is groan out for him, enjoying the way he’s being gentle and pointed with his tongue. His hands go from your legs to keep them from crushing his head to reaching up to massage your tits. He doesn’t even try to silence you, and you’re thankful to keep your promise to Jake despite not actually trying to right now. 

And when Sunghoon pulls his head back for a breath, he looks up at you and whispers a small “happy anniversary, baby–” before smiling in such a genuine way that it has your heart crashing with the amount of love you have for him. 

He dips back in after the loving words, hugging both of your thighs with his arms and burying his face into you for another ten minutes before, well, he grows a bit bored. He wants to make you cum this way and make it last as long as possible, but now he’s feeling neglected and the image of you with that toy you got is burning images in his mind the more he hears you moan for him. 

“Changed my mind,” Sunghoon mutters as he pulls back for a breath and leaves your clit entirely abandoned.

 He hears you whimper at the loss of pressure and honestly, he’s always loved the way you sound when you do it. He finds himself reaching for the toy much quicker than he originally planned, soothing you through your disappointment with a fond voice.

“Play with yourself while I get this ready.” He smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss to the forehead before fumbling with the box. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The fact that Jake can hear his brother tell you to play with yourself makes him feel insane. Only because of the way you start moaning again and give him even more to think about while over here all alone. 

Fuck, the thought of walking in on you one day with your fingers inside of yourself, not quite reaching where you want them to, asking him to take over for you? 

Jake almost wants to put his ear to the wall. 

Wait, why shouldn’t he? He wants to hear you.

Cock still in hand and tangled against your panties, he shuffles to his feet and presses his ear against the wall. You sound much more clear now when he chokes back his own moan, knowing you’d probably hear it more clearly too considering how loud he is.

Knowing you can hear him though? That means Sunghoon can also hear him, so he tries his best to hold it back as he starts thrusting himself against the silk in his hand.

He does well until he hears a choked-out whimper, a slap, and some crude words coming from his brother’s lips. On any other day of listening in, his cock would instantly go soft hearing his brother but what he says to you through these thin as fuck walls has him biting his lip in an attempt to silence his own moan.

“You like being stuffed with two?” Jake hears at first, followed by another whimper from you. “So wet, it slid right in beside me–”

Jake can’t even imagine what’s being done to you right now but he can tell you’re loving it in the way your whimpers turn to full-fledged moans that he’s never heard before. 

“Oh, fuck–” Jake groans out towards himself, looking down at his painfully hard cock against your panties. Dripping, absolutely an utter fucking mess in his own palm over you. 

He starts to move his hand this time, faster than what his hips were doing. Only part of him is trying to match the sounds of skin slapping skin, moving his hand much faster than what he’s hearing happen to you. 

He’s sure you’d moan like that for him too. Wouldn’t even need two to make you be so loud, surely. 

And then he’s starting to shake, rolling his head a bit to where his forehead is against the wall. He’s shamelessly out of breath when he whispers his own words to you as his cock begins to fucking weep his cum against your panties. Words of, ‘yeah, you like that?’ and “Better than him, right?” 

And when Jake backs away from the wall, allowing the muffled sound of your loud moaning to be further and further from his ear, he collapses on his bed in a deep breath and then trails his eyes back over towards the wall. 

You’re right there. 

You know exactly what he’s doing in here but now he can’t tell if you’re actually being loud because you told him you would, or if it’s because Sunghoon really is that good. 

The jealousy hits again. It isn’t fair.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s been days since your anniversary and now that work is finished, you get to head back over for your regular weekend with Sunghoon. Except now you wonder how awkward it’s going to be. The soreness between your legs has gotten better but the guilt of how Jake avoided you the next morning got worse. 

You think you should leave it be, you should just let him have those panties and pretend it never happened, pretend you never flirted with him, and pretend you didn’t tell him that you listen to him get off too.

You went too far on your fucking anniversary then proceeded to fall even more in love with Sunghoon.

Thankfully, you didn’t go far enough to where it couldn’t be salvaged, so when you leave today, you have the promise in your head that you will leave it alone. You will leave Jake alone and go back to what you were with Sunghoon before you ever fantasized about his little brother.

Except that doesn’t happen because the moment you walk in and see Jake lounging by himself on the couch, shirtless, you find yourself avoiding him more than he’s avoiding you.

Though he immediately got up when you walked through the door with a small apology and rushed towards his room, you had to stop yourself from turning around and going straight back home. Sunghoon is here though, back turned towards you as he stirs something in a bowl. 

“Hey babe, can you come help me?” Your boyfriend calls out, glancing at you from over his shoulder and showing the smallest glimpse of something smeared against his cheek. 

Your heart warms at how domestic he looks right now, kicking your shoes off and heading towards him with your weekend bag. 

“I'll be back in a minute, let me put my bag in your room.” You say, coming up behind him and planting a kiss on his shoulder.

He lends you a short nod in response, turning his attention back to his mixing bowl with a smile plastered across his face. Not a day goes by where he doesn’t miss you, honestly. 

And as you make your way down the hallway to Sunghoon’s room, you note how Jake’s door is closed. You’re thankful for that, as the image of his stupidly attractive shirtless body still appears to be fucking burned into your brain.

 It’s stupid, honestly, you have a whole Sunghoon in the kitchen waiting for you, who will probably make you cum a minimum of three times tonight, and you’re panic-walking past his little brother’s bedroom because you’re incredibly fucking attracted to him. 

Ridiculous.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The self-control you once had is no longer present in your head. The plan to leave it be is less and less attractive in your brain the more you take in the image of Jake in front of you at the table texting away on his phone. 

You watch him shamelessly as Sunghoon goes back and forth in the kitchen. You’re almost completely skewed from his view, thanks to the wall separating the kitchen and dining room, as you sit here across from Jake. He’s wearing a shirt now, rude, and is only glancing at you from time to time.

He’s not saying a damn thing to you though, which is annoying.

What happened to you avoiding him? No, what happened to him avoiding you? 

From under the table, you gently kick against his leg to get his attention and his eyes snap up toward you. You look down instantly, pretending as if you weren’t kicking him to get his attention at all. All so you’re the one ignoring him instead. 

But your leg stays there, occasionally kicking against him just to see how long it takes for him to stop reacting to it. 

Scrolling through your own phone now, you’re swiping through videos, listening to Sunghoon clattering through the cupboards, and feeling incredibly warm sitting in front of Jake. You don’t know what’s gotten into you when it comes to him, honestly.

Finally, you slowly trail your eyes back up to his face and note that he does the same, at the exact same time. 

The two of you share a moment of silence looking at each other. You can almost feel his eyes pull you in without intent. It feels dangerous just to look at him, seeing him in a newer light than what you’d seen in him when it was just amusement on your end. You wonder if he can tell. Probably not.

He doesn’t look away from you, and you’re not sure why. He just stays still and silent, blinking back at you. 

Maybe he’s being pulled in too, like a silent agreement communicated just through eye contact. The electricity in the space between the two of you is nothing short of dangerous. Your body almost acts on its own when you raise your lips into a half smile at him and plant your foot on the chair between his legs.

Still keeping eye contact, you watch him jump at the action but he doesn’t move or push your foot away. Instead, he’s breaking eye contact and looking down, staring down, really, at how your socked foot is planted directly between his legs.

He doesn’t move, trailing his eyes back to you now with a curious look. You continue, pressing your foot forward just slightly. Jake jumps again at the feeling and shoots his eyes to the opening of the kitchen.

 Sunghoon is still facing away, stirring something in a pot on the stove. Thank fuck.

 He’s not strong enough to push your foot away. In fact, he can hardly comprehend the situation at all, or why he presses his hips forward out of need rather than want. He knows it’s wrong to have you touching him in any way whether it’s your foot or not, this is not okay to be doing. But god, he yearns for you so badly. He’ll take anything, everything he can get. 

You smile wider, watching the way his face tries to stay casual as he gently scoots forward and presses himself further against your foot. Only now, satisfied, do you look back down to your phone as if you didn’t just do that, and like you’re not keeping your foot in place for Jake to grind against. 

The fact that he’s actually doing this at all is enough for you to feel warm on the inside. All you were going to do was experimentally cross a line to see what would happen. This is a much better outcome compared to him rushing out of the room in a panic. 

It doesn’t take long before you start giving more pressure against his weak grinds. Each time you glance up just to get a look at his poker-face, you can tell he’s looking at you in disbelief and shifting his eyes to keep checking for Sunghoon. 

You can tell he grinds harder when Sunghoon isn’t at risk of seeing, and he moves more weakly when his alarm bells are ringing. If anything, the fact that Jake is falling apart in front of you and trying to pretend he isn’t is enough to have you pressing forward more.

You smirk as you scroll to watch another video, feeling his cock twitch against your foot, and god, he’s really that desperate? You hate how much you like it and hate even more that you’re so fucking attracted to him doing this right now. 

When you glance up again, this time because you really can’t help yourself at this point, you note that Jake is really trying to concentrate on looking normal despite his body obviously shifting back and forth under the table. 

He’s insanely obvious, and already it makes even you panic at the fact that he’s really losing his ability to remain calm. 

“Jake, have you seen this meme?” You fake laugh out loud, mostly to stop him from getting too into it and blowing the cover. 

He jerks his hips back with an annoyed groan, realizes where he is and what’s between his legs, and then jumps back into an act.

“No, I don’t think so–” He says nervously, leaning forward to see your phone. 

You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer over the table, lifting him from his seat and whispering as quickly as you can.

“You need to stop being obvious–” You warn before releasing him and turning your phone to show him the video.

Jake lets out a fake laugh at the video, shifting his eyes to you apologetically before seating himself back down and looking dead into your eyes. 

There, he feels you adjust your foot again, this time further into his chair where you can blatantly feel how desperately hard he’s gotten over this. 

Jake can’t just sit here and let this continue for too long, despite really, really fucking needing the touch. And it sucks, considering it’s the first time you’ve actually come onto him and it just has to be with Sunghoon barely even a room over? 

God, fuck. Fuck! 

Right here, right now, Jake decides he’s going to take what he can get, even if it makes you feel sorry for him. 

You’re shocked when you feel his hand grab your foot and hold it in place before very harshly  grinding against it. Watching him from across the table, he makes it very obvious as to what he’s doing but still, you find yourself falling apart at the way he parts his lips, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to hold back a moan. 

Then, just as quickly as he started, you feel him push your foot away and he’s scooting back in his chair. 

“I left something in my room. I’ll be back.” Jake says sheepishly, looking to the floor and rushing into the hallway.

You watch him rush out of the room confused, so you look behind you hoping Sunghoon didn’t like, make eye contact with him or something. It doesn’t appear he did though, because you see him waist-deep bent over in the fridge looking for something. 

Jake needed to like, not come in his pants from that. Not in front of you. Not in front of his own fucking brother.

  He doesn’t even fucking like feet! But, well, he likes you. 

You offered pressure and he fucking took it. He needed to finish himself off and not have to sit there in cum-soiled pants pretending like it didn’t just happen. So, naturally, he ran to his room to finish himself off out of frustration. Thankfully he’s close enough to reach climax within two to three strokes, right there leaning against his door. 

Embarrassed by the small sob he let out during his orgasm, he’s quick to rush to the bathroom and clean up before grabbing a hoodie from his room and throwing it on over the t-shirt, mostly so it does look like he actually came in here to grab something.

Not even five minutes pass before he’s sitting in front of you again. Jake feels helpless in the way he can no longer bring himself to avoid looking at you, all the way up until Sunghoon peeks into the room and announces that he thinks he’s perfected the soup recipe, and is ready for you guys to come try it. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t look at Jake after he came back. Not much, anyway. It’s not that you didn’t want to, it’s mostly just that you’re coming to terms with the fact that you just crossed a line and you’re not sorry about it. Even after Sunghoon places a spoon at your lips and the soup is definitely the most delicious he’s ever made. 

 Even after he’s got his arm around you at the table with that same loving smile plastered on his lips, sitting across from his little brother who just eye fucked you while grinding against your foot, you struggle to decide who you’d rather look at. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The events of yesterday stay fresh on your mind as Sunghoon lays next to you half-awake and scratching against his arm before cuddling in closer to you. He’s so warm and all you can do is wonder why you're risking this comfort to have fun with his little brother.

 You’ve already crossed a line and gone too far. You did exactly what you said you weren’t going to do and exactly what you never thought you could do. You’re probably not going to be able to stop even if you wanted to, so you opt to just–not think about when it’s gonna happen again or if it’s gonna happen again. 

Saturday almost flies by and before you know it, all three of you are lounging in the living room to watch a movie. Usually, Jake isn’t as present when you’re with Sunghoon but since everything started, he makes himself known much more. 

He includes himself in things and engages in more conversation. You wonder if it’s because he’s waiting for you to do something again. The worst part about all of it is that you can tell Sunghoon is enjoying the time he’s spending with you and Jake together. 

Even during this movie, Sunghoon doesn’t think twice when you lean against him and throw your legs over Jake’s lap to get comfortable. Alternatively, Jake thinks three to four times over when you do it, opting to keep his hands at his sides when he steals a glance at you and notes that you’re comfortable under his brother’s arm. 

The movie goes on like that and Jake can’t help but feel like it’s taking forever to be over with. Then again, he’s staring at your legs on his lap more than the movie on the screen. It gets worse when there's a jumpscare and your legs are tensing up and moving around against him. 

At least this time it’s not your fucking foot and he’s got a calf muscle to work with. 

You did it both intentionally and unintentionally. You weren’t exactly throwing your legs on him to get him to rub against them or anything, it was mostly just to fluster him, but Jake proves himself as someone with zero self-control once again.

 You feel him twitch under your legs and shamefully, you immediately feel arousal drip between your legs. The fact that he gets you so riled up so fast will always be a mystery to you, honestly. 

The good news? Being turned on isn’t so bad right now, considering you have Sunghoon right here to help you take care of it without much convincing.

Adjusting yourself, you pull your legs from Jake and take a second to focus on his lap. The tent in his pants is obvious, but Sunghoon pays no mind as his eyes stay on the screen. You watch the way Jake covers himself quickly and looks at you in confusion. 

As he looks at you, you move a bit to look at Sunghoon.

Without warning, your boyfriend is thrown off guard by you suddenly kissing his neck. If Jake doesn’t have self-control, neither do you. 

And in your defense, you’re not trying to dangle your relationship in front of him, really, you’re not. It’s not your fault that Jake got hard and that caused a chain reaction in getting you wet. 

Sunghoon pulls back to look at you. His face is somewhat concerned but still, he’s smiling as he makes attempts to dodge your kisses. 

“Hey, hey slow down–” He turns his face to whisper into your hair. “It’s weird with Jake here.”

You ignore his whispers and continue to kiss against him, moving your hand dangerously close to his upper thigh. 

In a way, Sunghoon can’t believe that you’re really acting like this in front of Jake. Sure, the two of you have kissed in front of him, and Jake has walked in on some steamy makeout sessions, but it was never intended to be in front of him. Then again, Sunghoon knows how needy you can get and how selfish you can be when you’re wanting something specific from him. 

“Okay, okay–” Sunghoon relents in another whisper, gently pulling himself from the couch and grabbing your hand. 

“Hey, I think she’s getting tired.” Sunghoon laughs with the obvious lie to his brother. “Can we finish the movie another time?” 

“Uh, sure.” Jake responds, knowing full fucking well that you’re turned on because of him and now you’re gonna go fuck his brother to take care of it. 

This is so annoying.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Come Sunday morning, you were just as turned on as you were the night before. You can feel your body heating the moment you even think of Jake, but Sunghoon satiates you well enough. Even there against the bathroom wall as the two of you take a shower. 

Sunghoon took note the night before that you enjoyed it when he humiliated you for doing those things in front of Jake. Asking you if you were really so desperate that you’d let just anyone see you acting the way you did. He plays off of that today too. 

Waking up hard wasn’t anything weird for Sunghoon, and usually the morning showers end up as morning sex sessions anyway. You seemed more willing and awake this morning than any other time, and he’s thankful for it. 

When he’s got you pressed against the wall as the warm water runs down your back, he doesn’t hesitate to plunge into you all the way with a comment of how much wetter you get when he degrades you. In a way, the punishment and degradation feels deserved, because you are embarrassed by how much you want to touch Jake.

“Getting off on the thought of other people seeing how wet you get for me?” 

You nod against the cold bathroom tiles, feeling his cock pressing deeply inside of you and making your legs feel weak. You do love when other people can see, but what you mean by that is you love when his little brother can see. 

Jake, from across the hall, once again hears it all because it wakes him up. Sunghoon hasn’t even attempted to keep his voice down while talking to you. Why? Because even he is far too turned on to pay attention to anything outside of this bathroom right now. 

“Going so far as letting Jake see? How desperate were you?” 

Jake’s ears perk up at the sound of his brother saying that, already stirring in his pants at the very idea of you getting off to that. 

How desperate were you?

 He wonders how you answer, or if you do. He wonders if you were desperate for him or if it was really for Sunghoon.

Without much more thought, Jake can’t go another day with you here right now. It’s becoming a bit too much, a bit too real, and honestly, he thinks he’s the desperate one right now. Wanting to barge into the bathroom, shove his brother away, and have his way with you. He could never. You’d never let him go that far surely. 

And by the time it’s all said and done, you leave the bathroom lightheaded and Jake appears to have left the house to do something else.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The week passes normally up until Thursday night. You’re rummaging through your cabinets for something to make for dinner when your phone goes off. Assuming it’s Sunghoon again, complaining that Friday never comes fast enough, you’re shocked to see that it’s Jake sending you something through instagram. 

And he’s drunk. 

SimJake_ sent a photo: 

SimJake_: guess who got drunk on a thursday night and is regretting the fact that i wanna talk to you? 

Never did you want a paper trail or some type of proof that you and Jake are involved in this weird….thing together. His message isn’t even sexual, it's just a bit intimate that your boyfriend’s brother is sending you selfies while drunk even though you came onto him first. 

He’s attractive, and entirely too cute right now trying to approach you via fucking Instagram because he won’t do it to your face. Then again, Sunghoon is always around, so maybe that’s why he hasn’t done anything about it. 

You: let me guess, you’re the one drunk on a thursday night and will probably say some shit that will make you not be able to look me in the eye tomorrow?

SimJake_ : ding ding ding! what’re you doing? 

You: texting you and trying to find food, im hungry. what about you?

SimJake_ : bout to make another drink and pretend i don’t have your panties under my pillow

SimJake_ : because i do

Wow, Jake is embarrassing and confident when he’s drunk. You find yourself smiling over it. You’d never guess or even assume he would try to make conversation with you about that of all things.

You: oh yeah, you’re definitely drunk

SimJake_ : am i being too weird? 

SimJake_: because you’re the one who started it

You: me? I started it? last time i checked, you’re the one who stole my panties?? you pervert????

SimJake_ : you’re the one who let me keep them

You: that’s……fair

SimJake_: so… 

Shy boy is no more at this moment and you almost feel caught off guard. Reminding yourself that he’s drunk, you try to set a boundary in your head and change the subject.

You: what are you drinking?

SimJake_ : found some of my brother’s expensive whiskey, gonna tell him you drank it, he wont be mad then

You: you’re gonna tell him that I drank his whiskey, when he knows I don’t even like whiskey?

SimJake_ : yep

You laugh at the audacity, finally finding a snack for yourself and settling on the couch with your phone in hand. 

You: and you’re drinking on a weeknight again, why?

SimJake_ : because i want you 

Oh.

SimJake_ : and i know im not allowed to, but it’s really hard to like, not, i guess

SimJake_ : i know im being weird and im sorry, just really drunk rn and wanna talk to you thats all

SimJake_ : or we can pretend i never messaged you and you can delete the messages

You: no, i think you’re being cute. You can calm down, it’s okay

It’s definitely not okay, but you want it to be. You’re about to do some not okay things too, and cross those boundaries you literally just now set.

You: so, they’re still under your pillow? 

SimJake_: yea

You: when was the last time you didn’t have them under there?

SimJake_ : yesterday

You: oh yeah? 

SimJake_: yea i washed them when Sunghoon was at work…um

SimJake_: can you maybe wear them again

God, he really is that desperate. 

SimJake_ : please? you can leave them in the laundry like last time and ill just grab them

You: i’ll think about it 

SimJake_ : okay…so…

SimJake_: um….did you like the selfie 

You: i like seeing you in person more, it’s fun when you’re all flustered and stuff, trying to pretend you don’t like it

Jake is giggling to himself like a schoolgirl, focusing on your messages and hoping to god he doesn’t forget the things you’re saying to him. He’s going to have to delete these messages as soon as it’s over though, for sure. At least he’s not drunk enough to forget the glaring issue at hand here.

SimJake_: i don’t like it because i always have a boner now lol i feel gross always having to go to my room and take care of it so things dont get weird

You: maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?

SimJake_ : wait what

You’re cheating. As if you haven’t been already. This is blatantly against your moral code and you literally do not care. 

You: are you all flustered now?

SimJake_ : maybe,,,,

You: would you want me to? instead of you having to always run off to your room where I can’t see? 

SimJake_ : you’re doing this on purpose, you wouldn’t actually wanna

SimJake_ : would you?

You: guess you’ll just have to find out eventually

You: flustered now?

SimJake_ : yea, wanna see?

SimJake_ sent a photo: 

You:  jesus christ, you’re…

You: big…. I mean, I knew from feeling it last weekend but like, that was my foot lol

SimJake_ : yeah what even was that about? i felt so stupid doing that

You: you looked hot when you did it tho

SimJake_ : am i really that big? 

You: Jake,look at that thing. im shocked you don’t already have a girl to bury it into yet. 

SimJake_: could have one ;) 

You: ….yeah

SimJake_: yeah? 

SimJake_  sent a photo: 

Okay, it’s getting to be too much now. You can feel the warmth pooling into your panties already and you wonder if he would be just as eager to lick it up as he is to text you right now. You spread your legs wide, deciding on if you should do it. You’re already cheating, the guilt couldn’t get any worse anyway. 

You sent a photo: 

SimJake_ : oh fuck 

SimJake_: you’re wet?

SimJake_: sorry i wasnt expecting that

SimJake_: can i save it

You:  no 

You sent a photo: 

SimJake_: you should give me those panties instead

You: okay, ill put them in the basket tomorrow night 

SimJake_: will you still wear the other ones too?

You: you want //two// pairs?

SimJake_ : yeah :( 

You: ill think about it

Jake is blushing, flushing, and shaking all at once, one hand on his cock and the other texting you. He’s saved the photos anyway, boring holes into them with the thought of what must be behind that thin layer of sticky and wet fabric. He wants to put his face there, he wants to smell you and swallow you up. 

SimJake_ : can i call you?

A sharp feeling of fear but an even bigger feeling of arousal hits you. 

You: okay…

You didn’t have to wait long, watching the bubble of him typing something to you disappear and instead getting a phone call. You knew Jake had your number and you had his, mostly for communication purposes for Sunghoon. Never was this supposed to happen. 

When you answer the phone after taking a deep breath, your eyes are nearly popping out of your head. 

Jake is shameless. 

All those nights of hearing his mans muffled through the wall are now coming through crisp and clear on the speaker. If you close your eyes, it’s like you’re in his room with him. 

You don’t speak and instead, listen. You had expected him to answer the phone stuttering, trying to dirty talk but ultimately failing. It appears his drunken state offers him more than just liquid courage, but liquid lust as well.

 For a moment you stop and contemplate hanging up. Jake is drunk and you can’t help but feel as though you’re taking advantage of him. Then again, previously sober he basically fucked himself against your foot at the dinner table. 

“Feels good?” You ask with a chuckle.

 You can hear the movement of his body through the speaker and you’re aware that through the lack of slapping sounds, your panties are probably silencing what his hand is doing. 

Jake barely answers. A quick “mhm” rings through your ears alongside his deep breaths as a response instead. This isn’t typically how phone sex would go, considering dirty talking is what gets a person there. Perhaps Jake has never done this before, then again, maybe he gets off on just knowing you’re listening to him at all.

“Can you–talk?” Jake asks weakly, his hand stilling for a moment to focus solely on the image he has pulled up over your phone call. He can barely comprehend that you’re on the other line and he’s looking at your pussy pressing against slick panties.

“I like hearing you do this,” You say quickly, not very good at this type of thing yourself despite knowing how it should usually go. You slowly start to trace your fingers against your panties, wondering if Jake would be gentle like this too, nervous even. 

“Yeah?” He asks with a small choked moan as he begins to move his hand again. “You’re not weirded out?”

“If I was weirded out I wouldn’t have sent you photos.” You snap, frustrated suddenly with the whole situation that this is your boyfriend’s brother. “Stop calling it weird–” You trail off, listening intently to the shifting sounds you hear through the speaker. 

“Sunghoon isn’t home right now,” Jake suddenly admits, and you can feel the arousal disappear almost instantly as you hear his name. The reality hitting you, but still not caring enough to stop.

“Don’t talk about him right now, This isn’t right but–”

“But what?” Jake asks with a hopeful voice, this time pulling his hand away completely and feeling his heart double in speed.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” You let out, finally pressing your fingers beneath the lining of your panties. “I know it’s wrong.”

Like music to Jake’s ears, he feels the eagerness in his body swell to the point that it’s difficult to maintain. Sunghoon has everything that Jake wants. A good career, a nice house, needed life skills. All of those things could be obtained with hard work and effort for Jake, but you. You were the one thing he was never supposed to have. You were the one aspect of Sunghoon’s life that Jake wouldn’t have the ability to work his way towards, but he did. 

He has you right now, in this moment, and he feels like nothing could break him. He knows it’s wrong just like you do, but Jake is selfish too. 

He doesn’t think you meant to feel this way, because he always sees the good in people, and if you were doing this with any other man he would definitely snitch on you if he found out. But you’re doing it with him and he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt at this moment. So what if he he wants to fuck his big brother’s girlfriend? You reciprocate the fucking feeling. 

A small part of Jake’s brain is still anxious though. That little still-sober sliver of his moral code trying to fight its way to the front. Does he go with his heart or with his brain? Should he stop? Will he be able to look you in the eye tomorrow? Will he be able to ever look his brother in the eye? 

He isn’t sure. Both his heart and his brain tells him to go for you, the only thing telling him not to is the thought of his brother. The good news about that is, with you on the other end of this line, Sunghoon is pushed to the back of his mind. 

“You can have me, you know.” He almost whispers, staring down at his heavy cock resting against his belly, panties left dangling off the tip. “I wouldn’t say no.”

Those are dangerous words. Words you know you shouldn’t accept or be turned on by. 

“I bet you wouldn’t–” You cut yourself off in a deep breath, pressing against your clit and rubbing harshly. Jake isn’t even talking much, just offering himself on a fucking platter to you, and it’s driving your body to fucking yearn. 

“Oh, shit, are you–” Jake swallows hard, the reality that you might actually be touching yourself on the other line sending waves of heat down his body. He thought it was just him and only had the hopes that you wouldn’t start making fun of him for it. 

“Oh, fuck.” He says, quickly moving his hand to grip against his cock again and already feeling too sensitive from the short moments of neglect. “Where are your hands?” 

“In my panties.”

Jake groans, dropping his phone by his ear on the pillow and using his other hand to grip something, anything as he opts to imagine your fingers sliding beneath the panties you’d shown him in the photo.

You can tell he’s holding his breath, focusing on feeling good in the way he releases short, quick groans every now and then. You keep yourself silent though, trying to hear him, trying to imagine what he’s doing while thinking of you. 

The dripping mess between your legs is being spread by your fingers as you scissor your lips open easily, letting a small groan roll off your tongue for him to hear. Satisfied by his responsive deep breath and sigh, you finally plunge your fingers in. 

“Can you hear it, Jake?” You ask in a breath, lowering the phone a bit so that he can hear your fingers slide in and out of you with a wet sound. 

He chokes on his end at that, swiping the panties off of him to replace the feeling of fabric with the feeling of his closed fist. His precum smears beautifully, offering him the sensation that if he squeezes hard enough, he can imagine that he’s fucking into your warm and wet cunt. He can hear how wet you sound and it’s driving him up a fucking wall not being able to physically see you do it in front of him. 

“This is all I'm going to think about tomorrow–” He groans out, tightening his fist even more and bucking his hips into it. “You sound so,”

“Wet for you?”

That’s all it takes before Jake is gasping out a string of curses, the orgasm both sending him into a sobering world of pleasure and an even drunker state of wanting you to himself. Strings of white spurting all along his belly and going as far as his chin, he throws his other hand up and bites hard against the skin on his knuckle as he works through it.

 He doesn’t want to moan through this, he wants to hear just how fast your fingers are moving, how fast you’d want him to fuck you. He wants to think about how you must be imagining him right now, feeling good and breaking the rules for him. 

Finally, after an embarrassingly long orgasm from Jake, his room goes silent and his ears tune in to the speaker on his phone. You’re cooing, letting out pretty little breaths between the smacking sounds of your palms coming into contact with your clit as you fuck yourself. He can’t believe you’re doing this with him, and even after his own orgasm he’s still incredibly aroused despite his cock softening. 

“You still there?” You groan out. He can tell the phone is closer to what your hands are doing than it is to your face, but he doesn’t mind.

“I’m still here–” He swallows hard, catching his breath as he practically studies the audio you’re feeding to him. 

“I bet that felt good,” You compliment his orgasm that was glaringly obvious on your end. You imagine he doesn’t even recognize that his hand was audible against his cock, and the sheer speed you heard of what he was doing made your clenching walls ache with everything you shouldn’t be wanting.”Wish I could see you right now–” 

Jake did contemplate face timing you instead, but that was crossing more of a line in his head than just calling you. Plus, he would have probably hidden himself from view the entire time. It’s not like he expected to actually have you fucking yourself on the other end of the line, but here you are, and here he is, cum all over him. 

He snaps a quick photo for you, and in your head you whimper a small “yes” at the sound of the shutter from his camera. 

“Send it.” You demand softly, pulling your phone from your stomach and holding it in front of your face. 

He does as you ask and feels embarrassed by the pools of cum all over his stomach. The photo consists mostly of his chest down. You can see his plush and bitten lips at the top of the photo though, and his quite big softening cock lying spent against his stomach, smearing some of the cum across his belly. 

Jake listens to your reaction and hum of approval when you look at the photo, a small blush fanning his cheeks out of pure adoration for you rather than lust at this moment. He listens intently, unsure of if you’re going to work yourself to orgasm or hang up on him before he gets the chance to hear it. 

The point is, Jake is getting a part of you that only Sunghoon should have, and he will be damned to pretend he doesn’t like it. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with an immense amount of guilt in your head, you almost bail at going to Sunghoon’s house this weekend. You’ve already called out of work simply because you find yourself thinking of Jake more than you should, and the guilt only wavers from you feeling like a piece of shit, to almost being a thought that you can push aside. 

Sunghoon would kill Jake if he found out, and you, what would he even do with you? Break up with you? Insult you? 

Still, the thought of him finding out is the only reason you feel guilty. Because you still don’t regret showing Jake, letting him hear you, or hearing and seeing him. In fact, you don’t intend to stop either. You want him too much at this point, and he seems to be in the same place as you when it comes to this situation. Jake wouldn’t tell on you because then, he would be telling on himself. 

After all, he only moved in with Sunghoon so he could taste freedom outside of his parent’s house. The strict curfews, the password protected websites despite him being a fucking adult, the supervision of his own money and belongings. Sunghoon knew the pain of living there, and that’s why he accepted Jake with open arms. 

Sunghoon was a good brother and an even better boyfriend. You and Jake on the other hand? Jake’s an awful brother and you’re an even worse girlfriend. Sunghoon doesn’t deserve any of this, and he doesn’t deserve any of what’s to come either. You’re in too deep with Jake now though, and the glaring attraction is too strong to ignore. 

Never in your life did you think you could find yourself being unfaithful, let alone with your own boyfriend’s sibling, yet here you are. Only guilty if you get caught. 

Jake had texted you at least three thousand times with apologies throughout the night and morning. Admitting that his head hurt too much this morning to be realizing what the two of you did. He said he wouldn’t approach you when you come over, apologized again, and then promised to never tell Sunghoon and to never hold it against you if you think he’s weird for doing all of that to you.

Reading over his string of messages, you realize that Jake is blaming himself. He feels like he’s taking advantage of you and wanting you to feel secure and safe in something you did without a second thought. 

On his end though, Jake is in his room staring at the two photos you sent to him the night before. Partially wondering if it was all just a dream at first, these pictures of you are the truth of how you feel towards him though. At least last night, that’s how it was. So, when you never text him back today? He doesn’t think too hard about why despite his heart feeling shattered by it. 

When you still show up at that day, he doesn’t question that you’re not eye fucking him the second you walk in through the door either. 

Jake was once again lounging on the couch when you walked in and Sunghoon was nowhere in sight. He hadn’t texted you either. Awkwardly, Jake speaks up before you can question it.

“He told me to let you know that he was gonna be late again. Said something about knowing you’d spam him with needy text messages while he’s in a last-minute work meeting.”

You look to the floor for a second, wondering if the real reason Sunghoon didn’t text you personally like he always did is because he found out somehow. 

“Oh.” You sigh, slipping off your shoes and feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. 

“He doesn’t know, don’t worry–” Jake assures you as he stands to his feet and heads towards his room. “Sorry about last night, I won't do that again.”

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’ve been slouched against Sunghoon’s couch for at least an hour by now and your mind is still doing a back and forth between taking advantage of this alone time with Jake, or worrying about how you shouldn’t be left alone with him at all.

The glaringly obvious issue in your head right now is the fact that you’re alone with Jake and you’re not upset about it. Jake assured you that Sunghoon didn’t find out, and the fact that Jake is the best source of finding out exactly what Sunghoon knows is more of a comfort than anything to you right now. 

Thinking back to the night before, you remember releasing your orgasm on the phone and hearing him compliment you through it. You have the photo of him saved within your gallery, hidden from your too-trusting boyfriend’s eyes. It was the first time you’ve ever seen Jake’s lower half bare. He really is huge, and it’s a shame, really, that you want it so badly.

It’s not even shocking to you at this point that you can feel guilty and anxious one moment and immediately switch into some sex-starved beast at the very thought of Jake. 

“maybe ill take care of it for you someday, who knows?” The text message you sent to him spreads across your thoughts, knowing full well that you’re probably going to get intimate with Sunghoon later, the least you can do is let Jake have some first if he wants it, right? 

You cautiously stand to your feet with a deep breath. The fact that you allow yourself to continuously dig the hole deeper for yourself? So deep that you’ll never be able to pull yourself from it? It’s laughable at how tiny of a worry that is in your mind when you know that Jake is seething in his bedroom right now.

 Maybe it's just what Jake does to your thoughts? The images of him are too good to be able to ignore, the guilt not nearly enough to make you stop wanting him. 

Sunghoon isn’t in your mind when you reach into your bag and grab the soiled panties you had soaked completely the night before, and Sunghoon barely exists at all in your thoughts when you make your way down the hall and lean against Jake’s closed door. 

“I wouldn’t say no.” was what Jake had messaged you before, guess now is the time to find out. 

Opening his door without so much as a knock, Jake doesn't appear to notice you at all as his back stays turned and he focuses on the screen in front of him. The large headset is sitting comfortably on his ears and you’re sure that the volume is up far too loud to be healthy. You can hear his friend’s yelling directions, where enemies are hiding and where they’re headed next. 

You smirk for a moment, noting how much of a typical college boy Jake is. Messy room, messy hair, messy relationship with his brother’s girlfriend. You can imagine he feels pride in what he was able to do with you, and that’s not even an ego boost on your end. 

You wonder if he’s told his friends anything at all. Not about who he likes or who he’s been getting intimate with even if not too-directly, but like, that he’s been getting fed sexual fantasies by someone in general. You wonder if he talks you up, then again, what if he hasn’t mentioned it at all? 

Why does that thought upset you?

“Where were you last night anyway?” You hear over the too-loud headset as you come up behind Jake with the panties in your hand. 

“Busy getting laid, unlike you losers.” Jake boasts, but you snicker at how he’s both lying and telling the truth.

“Bullshit–” You hear another insult coming through his headset before you finally are right behind him. 

Part of you wants to prove him right so his friends think he’s cool or something, but then again, what if they recognize your voice? Surely these are his friends from back home, some two to three hours from this city. Surely they don’t know you, right?

“No, really.” You lean down against Jake’s headset and speak in a tone that isn’t too common for you and he freezes. 

“Now, hold on–” A voice sounds through his headset and you can’t help but feel happy for him in the way they, for some reason, can’t believe Jake’s got some girl in this city interested in him. 

When Jake tries to turn his body to look at you, you hold the chair in place. Knowing yourself how headsets work, you lift his mic until it clicks, hoping to god the mute function works like it’s supposed to and start talking.

“Don’t move, keep playing if you want.” You say, dangling the panties over his head and lowering them in front of his face.

More arousing than gross, you watch Jake’s face fall forward against them. Part of him can’t believe you’re really doing this right now despite leaving his messages on read. But you are, and these are the panties that he thought about all last night and most of today. He really meant it when he said that would be the only thing he would be thinking about, and here you are, keeping the promise of giving them to him.

Reaching up and clutching the panties, Jake tries to turn towards you again. 

“Stay,” You say. “And hush.” You lower his mic back into place where he is no longer muted and listen as his friends go from talking shit to starting up another game. 

From behind his chair, you’re a little shocked at how good he is at following what you say. He doesn’t move, but you can hear his breathing and the way he struggles to balance it in order to remain some-what normal sounding to his friends when they address him. His fingers are shaking against his keyboard as the game starts, and you think he’s probably thought about this happening to him hundreds of times before. 

Maybe not with you, but still. 

Gamer boys always want this kind of thing. Some girl prodding and tugging at them, sucking them off under the table as they boast to their friends how they can be getting head and still getting gold damage by the time the match is over. 

All you can think about right now is being the person to fulfill the fantasies you assume he has. More turned on by the idea that Jake must want it so badly from you than admitting how badly you want it to be true. 

 When you reach around him, lying your hand against his lap, he’s already incredibly hard and stares down at it as the countdown screen on his game begins. 

From out of sight, you don’t want Jake to see you. In fact, you want to see how badly he plates this game through this, because it’s not only cute but will actually be fucking hilarious. Especially because it’s the first time you’re moving on him rather than him grinding against whatever you have to offer.

Ignoring the call outs of enemies in game, both of you spiral into a world of your own again when you grab his length from over his sweatpants and just–you just hold him for a moment. The weight of it grows much heavier as he somehow manages to get more hard at the fact that you’re in the room with him. Plus, for Jake at least, your used panties sitting right there only drives his cock further to pulse and beg for your hand. 

“Jesus–” Jake groans when you grab him.

“Jesus is right, you haven’t moved from that fucking building you cuck-” Some guy shouts from his head set.

“Shut the fuck up Heeseung, you’re literally in bronze.” Another man shouts.

Jake is silent save for a sharp inhale when you squeeze your palm around him. He knows if he even tries to talk shit right now all of his friends would just fucking know how desperate and embarrassing he is around you. That’s the last thing he needs.

Finally, after a few moments of palming him through his pants, you dip right in. He doesn’t shy away from it either, spreading his legs from under his desk and lifting his ass up slightly so you can pull the pants down to let his cock spring free. 

You silently gasp noting how Jake is even bigger than the photos gave him credit for, thicker than you genuinely imagined now that you see it from over his shoulder. Jake tries to turn his head this time to look at you, but you’re quick to catch his cheek and turn it back to the screen with a chuckle. 

Gripping him again, Jake sighs into his mic and his friend’s screaming goes silent. You’re quick to lift his mic into the muted position just to offer some sort of escape from embarrassment now seeing that he’s incredibly willing to let you do this while his ego is on the line.

“You want them to hear?” You ask, feeling his hips slightly buck into your grip. That sends shivers down your spine, finally feeling it for the first time.

“I don’t care–” He sighs desperately, thrusting his hips up harder. “Please, just don’t stop.”

The way he says it, for some reason, sounds so fucking broken that you could honestly swirl this chair around and impale yourself on him without so much as a second thought. But you contain yourself, now moving your grip up his length and thumbing over the head to feel the sheer amount of pre-cum spilling out of him

“Alright, Jakey.” You soothe, lowering his mic for the last time and wondering just how much he’s going to let his shithead friends hear.

For a few moments, you gently jerk him off just to see his hips chase your fist. He’s needy in the way he moves his body but very fucking good at acting as you start to count each kill he manages to get through this. 

By the time you hear his friends praise him, you feel a little competitive yourself. Shy, needy, desperate little Jake thinks he can get through a game the very first time you actually touch him? Perhaps he thinks he is giving you what you want, but what you want is to see him fall apart. 

You move your hand faster, watching him from behind as he chokes up and slams his head against the headrest of his chair, nearly knocking the headphones off of him. 

“God,” Jake moans, knowing full well that his friends wouldn’t suspect anything if he says such a thing. 

You know that was for you though, so you continue. The rhythm of your hand moving from a slow drag to something painfully fast and unfathomably good. Jake’s head is spinning, thrusting his hips up and gripping his computer mouse so tightly that he thinks he could crush it in his grip. 

When his pre-cum is essentially drenching your palm, the slide of your hand keeps a fast pace, pulling groans out of him every few seconds. 

Jake can’t hold himself back anymore, slamming his head against the headrest of his seat yet again, this time his headset sliding off of his head and falls into the floor. He lols his head from side to side as he finally lets out a full-throated moan, shooting a hand to your wrist and holding it in place so that he can fuck up into it. 

You gasp at that, his grip harsh and far less gentle than you’d expect. The muffled screams of his friends are blatantly obvious and you can’t bring yourself to care if the mic muted itself during its descent to the floor or not. 

He’s choking each moan that threatens to be too loud, and honestly, you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He goes from releasing your hand just to stare down at the way you grip him, to grabbing it again and fucking into it harder. 

It’s way too endearing seeing him like this. 

He tries to turn to see you again shortly after, so desperate to kiss you, so desperate just to fucking see what you like like when you’re doing this to him, but you do your best to remain behind him as you grab the base of his cock and cause him to groan in pain.

“Let me see you–” He nearly sobs in a frustrated way, and for a moment you contemplate letting him. 

“Let me hear you.” You respond, keeping that same, painfully tight, grip against him and dragging it up to his head, enveloping it and sending sensitive shocks throughout his body. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jake writhes under the painful grasp, but his hips still chase when you drag your hand back down. 

He’s no longer being quiet, no longer pretending to care about his dead character on the screen, re-spawning and dying every few seconds. He’s a free kill for any enemy player right now and you can tell his friend’s are pissed in the way the screaming from the headset gets louder despite the distance. 

The chat box on screen is being spammed just as aggressively, and Jake can barely even open his eyes to process it. 

“You were playing so well,” You coo out, shifting forward a bit and placing your chin on his shoulder. “What happened, Jakey?” 

He softly moans at the nickname you’ve now used more than once, eyes half open as he glances down at how fast your hand is moving compared to your soft, balanced voice against his ear. He turns his head quickly, trying to catch you off guard, but you pull away.

“Wanna see me so bad, huh?” You chuckle, working him up and knowing that he’s got to be close with the way he shamelessly moans in the most annoyed, frustrated way. 

“Let me kiss you.” He grunts, bucking his hips aggressively, now chasing in full that painful grip you’re keeping against him so well. “I’ll keep my eyes closed, please.”

You contemplate again giving him what he wants, but you figure he’s already getting more than enough. 

“Oh? You’ll keep your eyes closed? Don’t you want to look at me?” 

Jake is desperate now, hands moving to the armrests of his chair as he grips them hard, hips wildly stuttering in your grasp. 

“Fuck, yes.” He lets out, dropping his head with a deep breath and then throwing his head back with an even longer moan. 

You can’t tell if that was him answering you, or simply reacting to what his body is feeling, and you don’t really care. He’s already there, walking on the thin line of orgasm and willing to take whatever it is you give him. He no longer wants anything, he’s just experiencing. 

You watch him from behind very closely, the shiver running from his toes straight to his ears was obvious enough.

“That’s it,” You whisper from behind. “Give it to me.”

Jake’s entire body tenses against the chair, you can feel it stress from the way his legs spread wider and his hips go from quick thrusts to short, drawn-out drags against your palm. The image of him doing that between your legs washes over every single one of your thoughts. He would do that. Burying himself so deeply as he spills out inside of you, thrusting in and slowly dragging his hips out, just to thrust in again to push his seed impossibly deeper.

“That’s so hot,” Jake comments with a deep breath, and only then do you realize the small moan you’d let out during that intense thought of him. Especially as you watch his cum is spill out in loads, leaving a mess all over himself and your hands.

Finally, after making a mess of him, you smile to yourself and do your best to appear not as flustered as you actually are.

Either way, a job well done. 

You opt to make a grand exit, saying nothing after releasing his cock and sauntering out of the room in silence to leave him to his thoughts. You could still hear his friends screaming through the microphone, and he doesn’t even call out after you. Jake must feel on top of the world right now, because you know that you do.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon comes home later than he did last time, tired and droopy. He finds himself drawn to you more than usual, noting that your eyes are sparkling a little brighter upon walking through his door. 

You put Jake in the back of your head much like you always tried to do when Sunghoon is around you these days. Your love for your boyfriend is still blatant and honest when you’re next to him, not at all feeling pity for Jake having to see it. Jake should know who it is you love, despite the fact that you jerked him off mere hours ago.

When Sunghoon is next to you, when his arm is around you and his eyes are on you, you don’t question for a second that everything you’ve been doing behind his back will come back on you, and it’ll be well-deserved pain. But there’s still a part of you that hopes you can keep Sunghoon forever and always be happy beside him. You’re actively betraying him, his own flesh and blood is helping you dig this hole deeper and deeper. So deep that Sunghoon can’t even see the bottom where Jake’s got his hands on you. 

Fully intending to keep them both, you find yourself feeling more fulfilled despite the awful moral. Sunghoon isn’t willing to share, but Jake is. 

And you, you don’t have to share.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Saturday was as normal as always. Jake pops in and out of his room, not even once acting as if something suspicious is going on. If anything, Sunghoon is a little more happy to see you spend time with Jake when he’s not in his room.

 It was awkward at first. Jake’s always been shy but it seems like he’s loosened up after realizing you’re a permanent part of the picture for as long as you’re with Sunghoon. He’s endeared by the way you bully his brother the same way he does. 

Even that little crush Jake had on you when he first met you appears to have fallen into more of a sibling-like relationship to Sunghoon. He thought it was cute that Jake had a crush, after all, it’s you. Sunghoon fucking fell head over heels when you gave him attention and wouldn’t be caught dead releasing his grip on you once he asked you to be his girlfriend. The point is, Sunghoon knew Jake had a small crush but was pleased to see it turn into something more casual and comfortable.

 He likes his life, loves his girlfriend, and loves his brother. Nothing could get better than spending time with the two of you, even if Jake jumps up to go be a recluse in his room from time to time.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Jake,” Heeseung grits through the mic. 

“What?” Jake sighs nonchalantly, throwing his arms behind his head as he smiles to himself through the webcam.

“You should be embarrassed.” Heeseung argues. “We didn’t wanna hear that shit.”

“I muted him.” Jay says with a shrug through his own camera.. 

“Yeah, me too.” Jungwon follows up, all eyes now falling to Heeseung, who is avoiding the camera and scratching the back of his neck with a shrug.

“I was in a tight situation! I couldn’t tab out.” Heeseung defends himself easily, still a darker shade than usual.

“I think she wanted you guys to hear.” Jake laughs quietly, whispering. 

“Why are you whispering?” Jay asks, leaning forward towards his camera as if Jake was about to whisper out again, this time with a deeper secret. 

Instead, Jake shifts his eyes and changes the subject. As much as he would love to tell his friends that he’s managed to get a handjob (not the foot thing) from his brother’s girlfriend, he’s sure they’d have a little more respect for him. But it feels like a betrayal to say it out loud, regardless of how hot the idea is in his head.

“Because my brother is with his girlfriend and it’s weird if they know what happens when they’re not here.” Jake explains, receiving a nod from everyone.

“She left her panties,” Jake now adds in a cheeky voice, removing his hands from behind his head and sitting up from his relaxed position. “Wanna see?”

Heeseung was, obviously, the first to nod his head and Jake didn’t really need the others to agree anyway, because they’re a group of college guys who are always either talking about getting laid or how to raise their rank when playing competitive games.

“Damn,” Jay laughs as he sees the thin fabric come into view. “Are they dirty?” 

“Oh yeah,” Jake boasts, spreading out the fabric and bringing them close to the camera. 

“That’s so gross.” Heeseung waves them off, averting his eyes and trying to pretend he’s not interested.

“Jake’s full of shit.” Jungwon chimes in quickly, only to be shut down by Heeseung’s weird need to defend.

“You heard her talk to him through the mic, there’s no way he’s lying.” 

“Uh, no I didn’t. I had him muted the second I saw his hero standing in the middle of the map without moving.” Jay argues back.

“Well, I lied, I didn’t mute him.” Jungwon finally admits. “Still, though. There’s no way she gave you those.”

Jake can’t stop smiling. The fact that he can barely believe what happened himself is enough not to argue. They’re your panties, that’s your scent in them, and that was your hand wrapped around him yesterday. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up on Sunday felt, again, normal. You hadn’t heard Jake through the walls the night before but Sunghoon sure did. He mostly drowned out the sounds by putting in his headphones though, unlike what you would have done. Sunghoon did, however, wake up hard considering the two of you passed out the night before without so much as a lingering hand.

To his dismay, you groan at his roaming hands as he wakes you up. Sunghoon knows you love being woken up this way, but he also knows to stop if you’re making a sound like this over it. 

“What’s wrong?” He says, pulling his hand back and instead, placing it on your waist so that he can pull you closer and into a cuddle. 

You don’t respond, cracking an eye open and immediately feeling your head pound at the sunlight shining through the windows. You feel bad that since thursday, the only intimacy you’ve had has been with Jake despite being in love with the man against you. Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that you immediately, physically, feel like shit this morning, you’d be jumping Sunghoon’s bones. 

“Head is pounding.” 

“Ah,” Sunghoon smiles, hugging you against him and rubbing circles against your skin with his thumb. “It’s okay, you can sleep in. I’m gonna go make some breakfast.”

Your boyfriend’s good mood doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does your headache. You take him up on that offer and immediately fall back to sleep.

Later, you wake to Sunghoon gently patting your cheek. 

“You want some food? Might help?” 

You nod, squinting your eyes and sitting up a little too quickly. You glance around as he turns away and heads back towards the kitchen, and then you stretch your arms out. Things feel too fucking normal for you to be doing what you’ve been doing. This headache is well fucking deserved, surely. 

Making your way into the kitchen, you note that Jake’s bedroom door is open but he isn’t anywhere to be found.

“Where’s Jake?” You ask casually, sitting down at the table and rubbing your temples.

“Said something about one of his friends coming to a city nearby and wanting to go hang out with him. Probably Heeseung.” 

Your heart starts beating in your ears at the thought that you really thought Sunghoon wouldn’t know any of Jake’s friends. Sure, you thought that maybe they were just online friends, or maybe people Jake met after Sunghoon moved out of his parent’s house, but you recognize that fucking name. 

Thankfully, you had changed your voice just slightly as you spoke to Jake the other day. Surely this isn’t what would ruin the entire arrangement.

“Ah,” You groan. “Finally we have the house to ourselves and I have to wake up with a migraine? What lousy luck.” 

“It’s okay, really.” Sunghoon smiles, sitting a plate of food down in front of you. “Besides, we both know you like the thrill of needing to be quiet.” 

He’s joking, you know he is, but it was the truth before this whole thing with Jake started. 

“If we really wanted to be alone, I'd be at your apartment every weekend.”Your boyfriend adds, planting a kiss to the top of your head and heading towards the medicine cabinet. “Little weird that it has to be my brother that we are keeping quiet from, but whatever.”

“Didn’t know i’d be this into it, honestly.” You admit, feeling open enough to at least tell him that you’re very into the idea of someone hearing you. You just won't admit that you want it to be Jake.

“I mean, I personally am not into this type of thing. It’s a little uncomfortable for me.” Sunghoon sits down and hands you two painkillers. “But I doubt he’s actually listening. I apologized after the first time and he said he usually just puts in headphones and goes to sleep.”

You hold back the smile of Jake’s blatant lies towards Sunghoon. 

“So, I guess I don’t entirely mind feeding into your little fantasies of being heard, or caught, or whatever.”

Your boyfriend waves off the conversation with a smile, ultimately willing the fact that it is weird to him out of his head. If that was a new thing you realized you liked, the only way you would have found out is by having someone else in the house when the two of you do those things. Unfortunately, Jake’s the reason. 

 In Sunghoon’s head, he’s mature enough to discuss it like an adult with his brother. Guidelines and rules, moving Jake in wasn’t going to change his sex life with you, if anything, he had already told Jake to invest in some decent headphones or earplugs because he’s gonna hear some shit otherwise.

You allow the conversation to die as you work up an appetite. Thankfully Sunghoon is an amazing cook, though he only did it one or two nights a week considering how spent his job makes him feel. You’re thankful he cooked this morning, and even more thankful for these two little pills that will hopefully knock your headache out within the hour.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Come Monday, you’re thankful you get to work from home. You sleep in and try your best not to think about the fact that Sunghoon knows the friends that heard you be intimate with Jake. You’re even more thankful for this week away from your boyfriend’s house because, even though you’ve processed everything, you feel like you should probably be alone for a while and really think about what you’re doing.

When Jake is around or texting you, it’s hard to think straight because you genuinely want him so fucking bad. And when Sunghoon is beside you, or texting you, all you can do is imagine a future with him.

The once bright, clear future of Sunghoon in a tuxedo standing in front of you at some extravagant altar becomes a little more foggy at the thought of where Jake would fit into it. Would he be behind Sunghoon, watching him marry you to start a real life together? Would he be somewhere in the crowd, waiting to object and expose you for the awful girlfriend you are? Or even worse, would he not be there at all? Running away and disappearing never to insert himself into your life or his brother’s life ever again?

You don’t want to think about the future right now. Everything you’ve been doing has been so selfish and so fucking fulfilling that you can’t bring yourself to feel any amount of pity for Sunghoon and the way he trusts you fully. You never once gave him a reason to not trust you, and you think maybe Jake hasn’t given him a reason either. 

But god, he shouldn’t trust either of you at all. He’s at work, making money, living his life with a supposed loving girlfriend all while offering his little brother an ounce of freedom. What does he get in response to his hard work and kindness? His brother wanting to tongue fuck his girlfriend? And worse yet, his girlfriend wants it even more than his brother does? 

Your mind is burning through scenarios all day if you have it in you to feel bad. Another scenario involves you, married to Sunghoon and sneaking Jake out of your bed when Sunghoon returns from work. Even more scenarios of Sunghoon finding out and hating you forever, leaving you and meeting someone better. How could you have them both and keep it going? Is something like that even possible?

Then you get a text.The glaring reality blows right past your head when you’re expecting it to be Jake but you see Sunghoon’s name on the screen. You still feel just as excited though. 

Sunghoon: good news and great news

You: oh? 

Sunghoon: Good news: a co-worker has family issues and had to drop out of the business trip coming up.

You were about to question why that’s good news, but then Sunghoon quickly texts again.

Sunghoon: great news: i am now being asked to attend the event and it could get me a pretty big promotion. 

You: You’re gonna go right?? When is it?

Honestly, the way your heart swells at your boyfriend moving up in the world could knock anyone on their feet. No one would ever guess what you do behind his back, because again, you haven’t lost an ounce of love for this man and you probably never will.

Sunghoon: I leave tomorrow if I accept.

You: how long is it? do you need help packing since it’s such short notice?

Sunghoon: only three days, so i’d be back on friday and still get to see you this weekend

You: it’s a win/win! i can come over tonight since i’m working from home today.

Sunghoon: you good to sleep over and drop me off in the morning at the airport? i can give them an answer now so they can work out the transport and get the tickets transferred to me. 

You: you didn’t need to even ask!! you should have immediately said yes! I’ll be over tonight, i’m proud of you babe! 

Sunghoon: love you :) 

And so there it is. The glaring issue about to become a blatant, full blown affair. And like, you don’t want to get it twisted. You are so fucking proud of Sunghoon and so fucking glad that everything in his life appears to be rushing him straight to major success, but also, he’s going to be gone for three days and that’s three days to try and get over this whole Jake phase. By using Jake. By fucking him, specifically.

It doesn’t help that just a few moments later, presumably after Sunghoon lets Jake know the plan, Jake is texting you.

Jake: Sunghoon’s leaving for 3 days

You: yep 

Jake: ….do i even need to say it

You: nope

Jake: gonna clean my room

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Dropping Sunghoon off is weirdly bitter sweet. His confidence is clearly through the roof as he kisses you goodbye. Even after he walks away, he quickly rushes back to you and asks for a second kiss, citing it’s for good luck. You knew he’d do amazing for this event, even with it so last minute. Everything Sunghoon did was with effort and thought put into it. You’re not the only person who sees it either. 

That was the sweet part anyway. The bitter part is the guilt finally coming to you like it should have weeks ago. The fact that Sunghoon is walking off to get on an airplane and Jake is at home cleaning his room to fuck you in it? It’s obvious that you don’t deserve either of them. 

Still, the guilt hitting you now is unnerving. It took so long to come, and only consumes you when Sunghoon isn’t around to nearly witness the infidelity? Shaking yourself of disgust, you head out of the airport and still find yourself pulling into Sunghoon’s driveway against your better judgement. 

You sit in your car for a moment, thinking back on all of those small moments with Jake, wondering now if you still want him or if those moments were enough to satisfy the curiosity of what could be. 

As expected, with a huff, you accept the fact that even through the guilt, you still want him.

Stepping out of your car and walking up to the door felt too unfamiliar and nerve wracking, especially with the fact that you can hear your heart skip beats and your body melt away into the hole you fucking dug for yourself. However, the moment Jake opens the door and looks at you, before you can even unlock it yourself, every single guilt ridden thought disappears. 

You don’t know what it is about him, and surely you’ve never felt this way before, because goddamn is it a blinding kind of feeling. Thinking back as you look at him, he seems different now despite having the same face and body language.

 Before, Jake was cute with his little crush. Weird even, with the way he lingered for too long to see you kiss his brother. Now, when you look at him, he looks like he isn’t at all the cute, shy little brother. He’s Jake, a man with wants and needs that have your name written all over them. You can’t fucking help yourself, and now being able to indulge yourself fully along side him, Sunghoon is drowned out in the back of your mind, as usual when you find yourself alone with Jake. 

Jake is still shy and timid in the way he moves but he knows just as well as you do what’s about to happen and isn’t at all shying away from the fact that he’s about to fulfill every dirty little thought he’s had about you since he met you. Hell, since he saw photos of you that Sunghoon sent before he ever met you.

On cloud nine, Jake is timid when he, for the first time, makes a move on you himself. It’s shocking that he does it at all if you’re being honest, but you lean into him on instinct. All he does is grab your hand, a touch that wouldn’t raise suspicions at all in Sunghoon if he were to see it, but to you it’s the most intimate thing he could do at this moment. Because he’s leading you, and his eyes are hungry and unable to pull from you. 

Not a single word is said, everything already spoken and understood with nothing more than the look when he opened that fucking door. Jake leads you to his room, and the energy in the air is so electrifying that it scares you. Never has a touch to your hand, or a leading pull to a bedroom made you feel so weightless. 

You think back to when you held his length in your hand, you had all of the power that day. Now, you don’t think Jake realizes what he could get away with. You’re falling into the same mindset you have with Sunghoon, one where you want, need, and could beg to be touched, but you still yourself from falling too far into it. 

Jake is even more gentle when he lets your hand go and turns towards you with a deep sigh, as if he’s preparing his entire being for what’s coming. Both of you like a deer in headlights, as if this wasn’t intentional or planned, you smile at him. 

Jake lets out a nervous laugh at your smile, shaking his head and looking down. He’s already stiff beneath his pants, which are conveniently unbuttoned and unzipped already. Even you, shamelessly wearing a dress with no panties. Sunghoon thought it was for him, and he damn well did fuck you this morning while on a confident-high before you took him to the airport.

You knew Jake could hear it, and he didn’t appear to care because in all fairness, Jake did not give a damn. He knew you weren’t his at that moment, but you fucking would be before the night is up. The next three days, you’re his. Even if he never has you again.

That deer-in-the-headlights look from Jake fades as his eyes take you in without hiding it for the first time. You imagine he will fall apart if he were to trace his hands under your dress and find that you are completely bare, you imagine you would fall apart much faster if he touched you at all.

It happens so fast. Too fast, almost, with the way he steps up to you confidently. You just now realize that he’s taller than you when he skews his head and looks down at your lips. Well, you knew he was taller than you, but at this moment he seems so much bigger than usual. 

 His breathing is uneven as he stares at your lips and you can tell he’s doing his best to be confident because you haven’t made a move towards him at all like you usually would. 

Looking up at him, you want to reach up and grip his hair. His lips are so plush, clearly freshly coated with chapstick. His skin is practically glowing save for the few blemishes that the fringe on his forehead covers, you find yourself wondering if he’s taking this moment to study you too.

“I’m having a really hard time holding back,” Jake whispers out, inches from your face. “This is going to be embarrassing for me.”

“Don’t hold back.” You encourage him without doubt, hoping that he can break past that last little boundary the two of you haven’t crossed yet. The one where he can kiss you, touch you, have you. Only because you can’t bring yourself to do it at this moment, for some reason.

The feeling of his lips touching yours is more bruising than you think he intended them to be, but the desperate feeling was all the same as your own, you think. Never have you actually stopped to think of kissing him or how he would go about it. Like running in blind, you’re learning that Jake knows what to do with his tongue, how to pace himself despite not wanting to, and how to reach up and hold your face in such a way that you feel like this could very well be a dream.

A perfect dream. 

His hands are cupping your face though, you can feel the way his fingertips press into your cheeks as he makes his attempts to deepen the kiss. And fuck, he’s kissing you like you’re his girlfriend. He still moves his lips in a hungry and desperate way though, in a way that has you struggling to breathe by the force of it alone. 

When his hands drop from your face and fall to your waist, every new place he touches feels like it’s set ablaze. You press forward against his chest, walking him back as you lick into to kiss, all the way until he falls back on his bed with a happy and dazed ‘oof’ sound. 

Still, his face is slack as he stares up at you, eyes struggling to stay trained on your face for too long as you begin to take off your jacket and reach over to pull at his shirt. So badly do you want to see him shirtless again, and he doesn’t argue, eagerly lifting it off of his body and lying back again. 

Now that the initial intimacy has been established, you finally come back to yourself, thinking more clearly and finding a small list in your head of things you want and need to do for him. Starting with letting him really look at you.

“I know how much you like my panties–” You smile, standing in front of him and trying to keep your eyes averted from his length threatening to break through his pants. 

“Yes, god, let me see it.” Jake urges you, tilting his head with a swallow and training his eyes on your thighs. 

He thinks you must be wearing the prettiest pair today, for him, not for his brother. But when you lift your leg and straddle him, his face contorts to confusion and then to pleasure when you sit against his cock. Of course, with the fabric covering his length, he still can’t tell that you’re not actually wearing any panties at all.

“You wanna see?” You ask for his clarification, bunching your dress up in your hands and preparing to lift it so he can see your bare folds sitting against him. 

Jake blinks at you, nodding his head and nibbling on his bottom lip. He’s doing everything in his power not to reach up and grab your waist just to guide you on him. He’s afraid to move too fast, he’s afraid to embarrass himself with how fucking desperate he is for you right now.

“Look.” You say, nodding between your legs and lifting your dress.

“Oh god,” Jake gasps as his eyes focus on the fact that you’re leaving a small wet spot against his pants. 

That’s your pussy on him. 

Without a second thought his hands are on your waist, pushing and pulling you forward and backwards on his lap. You blink hard at the sensation of the fabric rubbing against your lips harshly, and then open your eyes to look at him again.

He is still staring between your legs, almost losing himself to this alone. Then again, it’s the first time he’s ever seen you bare and he cannot get past the fact that Sunghoon gets to see it whenever he fucking wants to. 

“I can feel it–” Jake chokes back in a happy groan, referring to your slick seeping through his pants and onto him. 

You smile at him, now moving your hips on your own as you pull his hands away and push them to lay above his head. If he thinks this is good, you want to see how fast he reaches for you again.

It’s so easy when you lift yourself up, and incredibly cute in the way his eyes follow your pussy when you lift. He doesn’t even realize that you shove his sweats down and sit right back down, this time coating him in full with your slippery folds. 

“God, fuck,” He moans in disbelief, and just as expected his hands shoot to your waist and hold you down against him. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or not, but he’s incredibly sexy in the way he moves without thinking. 

“Fuck?” You question cutely, forcing your hips to slide up his length despite him trying to hold you there. 

“How are you already so wet?” He questions in a groan, still trying to process the fact that this is actually happening. His grip on you loosens, letting you move and instead grabbing the hem of your dress himself and holding it up so he can watch you slide against him better. 

“How are you so big?” You try to compliment back, feeling him between your folds and wondering just how deep he could fuck you if he so wanted to. “So, so big.” You groan out this time, feeling the head of his cock bumping against your clit every few seconds.

Jake obviously doesn’t answer, his fingers are gripping your dress so tightly and his eyes are burning the image of you doing this into his head. He never wants to forget this moment of feeling you against him for probably the first and last time, because in all realness, this can’t happen again if he thinks too hard about it. 

“I want to fuck you so bad,” He admits suddenly, out of breath. “Just this once, please.” 

You nod cutely, swiping his hands away from your dress and lifting it off of you in full. His eyes are now glued to your tits and whatever it was he was saying is long forgotten as he watches them jiggle when you slide up against him again.

The way he shuts up is entirely too arousing. You can see him thinking about you, practically able to see him process every part of your body on top of him. 

“Take your pants off, Jakey.” You finally say, frustrated that clothing always gets in the way of things. 

He does as he’s told when you stand to your feet in wait, and instantly he’s lifting himself and grabbing you, pulling you right back on him. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” Jake whines, pushing your hips against him and keeping himself upright so that your tits are pressed right up against his own, careful not to fall back against the mattress so he can plant his lips against your neck. “Oh my god, you have no idea.”

You feel a bite and pull back from him, hips stilling in short panic.

“Don’t–” You scold him, and he simply nods and goes back to kissing against your neck and shoulder, because if that’s the only thing he can’t do in this situation, he’d be a damn idiot to argue with you about it.

“Right, wouldn’t want him knowing that I got you this wet, right?” Jake mocks the situation as a whole as his confidence blooms, using reality as a form of ego boost, hoping to god that you lean into it rather than run from it. “He’d know I do it better.”

It makes you a little angry, but you get it. Jake’s confidence must be through the roof because never would you have imagined him speaking to you like this, or mentioning his brother at all at a time like this. 

“Prove it and maybe I’ll play along.” You try to challenge him, but you know that he might actually be right. 

His size rivals his brother’s, but can he work it the same way? Can the shy, timid little brother actually satisfy you the way your boyfriend does?

Jake pulls back from kissing your neck only for a moment, moving to your lips and wincing at the feeling of your folds sliding against him still, maybe he did get a little too cocky there. 

“Prove it?” He breathes against your lips, gripping your waist tighter and guiding you up. 

You already know what he’s doing and don’t shy away from it. Usually there’s foreplay, and you’re sure he wanted to do more than just fuck you, but too little too late. You’re hungry for it and so is he, if the sounds between you are enough to go by. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lift yourself and allow his hand to disappear between the two of you. You can feel him position himself right at your entrance and all you need to do is sink down. 

You lend a pause, staring at him for a moment. Looking straight into his eyes and recognizing that for the first time in over two years now, you’re about to fuck someone that isn’t Sunghoon. 

He stares back at you with anticipation, and when you sink down just a tiny bit, he’s lunging his lips forward and kissing you again so desperately that any doubt in your mind withers away with all that guilt you know you shouldn’t be ignoring. 

Continuously as you sink down inch by inch, feeling him stretch you out in a searing type of pleasure, Jake just groans into your mouth with wet kisses. You can feel his chest heave against you as he feels your walls start to envelop him and when you’re finally seated, he pulls you down with him as he falls against the mattress.

There, in a hug, his mindless kissing becomes even more vacant as he holds you in place, fucking his hips up and into you in an aggressive pace without giving you any time to adjust. His lips release from yours and his moans come out strangled, breathless, and entirely desperate for you.

He’s deeper inside of you than any man has ever been able to reach without the aid of a toy, and the head and thickness of it is far better than any plastic could ever be. You imagine you sound just as desperate as he does right now. Unable to wiggle in his grasp, you just take it. You were well versed in that, at least.

Jake holds you there for at least a full minute, feeling you clenching and drenching his cock in a way that makes the slide easy and pleasurable for him. His hips can move much faster this way, but the fear of cumming too quickly forces him to slow his movements and open his eyes in a breathy moan.

Your legs are spread out over his own, his cock is buried into you completely, and you fucking just take it? God, No wonder Sunghoon is in love with you. 

Jake looks at you lovingly, wishing so badly that his brother wasn’t in the way of having this all the time. And then? his arms release you and he’s lifting your face with one of his hands, thumb and pointer finger pinching your chin. 

Jake’s arms release you from the hug and he uses one hand to lift your face.

“Sorry, I just–” He says before getting a look at your face. Glancing between both of your empty eyes, he ends up losing any thought in his head when he notes how blown your pupils are, face still contorted in a silent moan as you start to grind yourself against him. Chasing the pressure he was just slamming into you. 

What he was gonna say was that he was sorry he lost control for a second, but what he ends up saying now is “Fuck, I want this so bad.” 

Despite that Jake is getting everything he wants at this moment, all he can do is look at you and watch you grind your clit against his pelvic bone, chasing a pleasure that he knows you’re feeling intensely right now. He thinks of himself in pity, all those nights of wanting exactly this and never knowing that he actually fucking gets to do it.

Without thinking, Jake doesn’t even know why he does it, but he keeps his cock buried deeply into you and knocks you over. He follows your body, adjusting himself behind you into the big spoon position and pulling your leg up to drape over his hip. 

There, he slips out of you only slightly to hear you whine at the loss. You’ve gone so silent save for moaning and he thinks he’s in love with you. So fucking in love.

He makes quick work to stuff you again and smiles at the way you throw your head back, opening your pretty and glistening eyes just for a split second to look at him. 

One hand now reaches around you and cradles one of your tits, the other snaking between your legs and experimentally tapping against your clit. 

“That’s right,” He boasts, trying his best not to drool as your droopy eyes struggle to stay on him for too long. “Look at me.” 

“Damn, Jake,” You manage to say in an aroused laugh, realizing that he’s really fucking you in the spooning position now? Of course he fucking would. It’s such an intimate position, and the angle, you could argue, is one of the best you think you’ve ever felt. 

Paired with his words? Goddamn.

“Hm?” He hums against your shoulder once he lays his head there, feeling your body jerk as he fucks his length into you repeatedly. “Feels good?” He asks, moaning himself this time at the way you close your legs around his hand and grind back against him.

He’s quick to abandon your clit to push your legs open again, draping it right back in the same spot over his own hip. He can imagine how spread out you look, despite not being able to see it in this position. He’s heard time and time that women like this angle, and if your sounds are anything to go by? He can say that it’s absolutely fucking true.

This time, when you reach back and pull his face to yours, now kissing him with more force than you have before, he loses composure again. Any chance of his focus being on you and you alone is now long fucking gone, baby. 

Even as he tries to put his fingers against your clit again, the movements are messy, messy, messy. Thankfully, his hips are fucking you with full intent now. He’s trying his best to control how good he feels so that way he can at least try to focus on your pleasure more, but god, fuck.

After one particularly deep thrust, you shiver and he fucking loses it.

“Oh my god, I found it?” He asks, experimentally pressing his hips up the same way. “Right here? Baby, yeah?” He continues, repeatedly slamming you with the head of his cock bumping just where you need it.

“Fuck-” You choke out, your body jolting without intent again and feeling shockwaves of what you can only describe as mini orgasms shooting throughout your muscles. “Ahh- Jake, don’t stop!” You frantically encourage him, mouth falling slack against his lips now, giving in to the pleasure and now losing all ability to speak at all. 

He does, pressing his hips harder this time, a grunt spilling from his bitten lips with every forceful thrust. Repeatedly hitting the soft spot inside of you, over and over again, ultimately sending you into a world of something you’ve, strangely, never felt before in terms of sex. 

Jake watches you roll your head back, moaning out with a slack and somewhat pained face as he does it. He cannot fucking believe he found your g-spot on the first try and he will be damned to stop now. 

He focuses now, grunting at the way your walls clench him so tightly each time he hits your spot. He’s determined to make you cum, make you babble out strings of his name and how good he feels. He needs you to feel so good that you’ll never think twice about letting him do this again, and again, and again, no matter how close you could be to getting caught. 

His hips are going at a pace faster now than he thought possible, and with his fingers messily working your clit, paired with his cock driving into the single most pleasurable spot inside of you, you find your body tensing up and your mind erasing every thought and memory. 

It’s so much to feel at once but you feel too weak to stop him for event the smallest moment of collecting yourself. 

“Ah, you’re squeezing me–” He breathes out, words broken with his own moans as he does his best to keep pace to work you through it. “So tight–” He manages to breathe out again, not yet realizing that you’re quite literally about to cum all over him.

And you want to. So you fucking do. You cum hard around him, clenching him so tightly that Jake stills his hips in disbelief at the way your body moves when you release. He can barely get the words out when he speaks, feeling you drench him with liquid fire. “Are you–?” He chokes out, jerking his hips back and trying to pull out of you for his own release.

“Do not pull out,” You groan as your orgasm continues to choke you of your breath. “Feels so good, just–” You cry out, pressing yourself back and enveloping the inches of him that he had pulled from you. “I wanna feel it.” 

“Fuck. fuck.” He moans out louder this time, hands gripping your waist and holding you against him as he shakes behind you. You can feel him twitch inside of you as he shoots those thick, white ropes of cum into you. 

For a brief moment you remembered when he released from your hand, pressing himself slowly and roughly into your first. 

You were right. 

Jake buries himself as deep as he can go, only grinding back a few centimeters before pressing himself flush against you as another spurt paints the flesh inside of you. You feel so full, and he’s packed so tightly in you that you genuinely think this is the first time you’ve ever actually felt a man cum inside of you. Like really feel it. Every fucking pulse of it. 

Unfortunately, just like that, you feel empty with how fast he pulls out of you. You’re in shock, actually. 

“Where are you going?” You ask in a cracked and panicked voice, looking behind you as he backs away from you momentarily. 

“I–” He pauses, looking at you and the way your eyes look back at him in a different type of panic. “Don’t know.” He says, getting back onto the bed and reluctantly putting his arms around you in a hug.

“I don’t know how to like, end this.” He admits against your shoulder, still trying to steady his breath from the orgasm he had ten seconds ago. 

Instantly, Jake found himself in a post-nut state of guilt and kind of scared of how much he adored fucking you. 

“End it?” You ask, pulling away from him. “You want to stop?”

“You don’t?” He asks, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. 

“I mean, we both know what we are doing…” You trail off, sitting yourself up and fully aware that the guilt will always hit you at random times, but still, you want Jake. “And we still kept doing it.”

“Yeah, but–” 

“But?” You ask, turning your body to face him as he sits himself up now. The nakedness of your bodies is not at all embarrassing at this moment. 

“Jake, I don’t think I can like, not want you if you still want me.”

He nods his head reluctantly, wondering if this is you offering the fact that you’re willing to straight up, blatantly, and shamelessly cheat on Sunghoon with him.

“Ugh,” Jake puts his face in his hands and then runs his fingers through his hair. “This is so fucked up.”

“Yeah, it is.” You admit, leaning towards him. “But If we never talk about it…,”

“No, no! I wouldn’t.” Jake throws his hands up defensively. “I only feel bad when you’re not here.” He says, now questioning himself. “I don’t think I’d be able to like, not ever do this again.”

“So we are both in this same little fucked up boat?” You ask. 

“I guess so.” He laughs at himself, and then at you. “If he ever finds out, you know i’ll be found in a ditch somewhere, right?”

You laugh, despite it being the worse fucking joke in the world. Running hand in hand with Jake into a fire that you both fucking searched for is kind of…scary? But also elating?

“Well, I’m not gonna fucking tell him.” You say, pressing the important matter at hand. “The point is, Jake, I need you to understand that I’ve never cheated on anyone.”

Somehow, he lightens the mood.

“Damn, I must be special.”

You guess he is.

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[5ummit]

AO3 Ship Stats: Year In Bad Data

You may have seen this AO3 Year In Review.

It hasn’t crossed my tumblr dash but it sure is circulating on twitter with 3.5M views, 10K likes, 17K retweets and counting. Normally this would be great! I love data and charts and comparisons!

Except this data is GARBAGE and belongs in the TRASH.

I first noticed something fishy when I realized that Steve/Bucky – the 5th largest ship on AO3 by total fic count – wasn’t on this Top 100 list anywhere. I know Marvel’s popularity has fallen in recent years, but not that much. Especially considering some of the other ships that made it on the list. You mean to tell me a femslash HP ship (Mary MacDonald/Lily Potter) in which one half of the pairing was so minor I had to look up her name because she was only mentioned once in a single flashback scene beat fandom juggernaut Stucky? I call bullshit.

Now obviously jumping to conclusions based on gut instinct alone is horrible practice... but it is a good place to start. So let’s look at the actual numbers and discover why this entire dataset sits on a throne of lies.

Here are the results of filtering the Steve/Bucky tag for all works created between Jan 1, 2023 and Dec 31, 2023:

Not only would that place Steve/Bucky at #23 on this list, if the other counts are correct (hint: they're not), it’s also well above the 1520-new-work cutoff of the #100 spot. So how the fuck is it not on the list? Let’s check out the author’s FAQ to see if there’s some important factor we’re missing.

The first thing you’ll probably notice in the FAQ is that the data is being scraped from publicly available works. That means anything privated and only accessible to logged-in users isn’t counted. This is Sin #1. Already the data is inaccurate because we’re not actually counting all of the published fics, but the bots needed to do data collection on this scale can't easily scrape privated fics so I kinda get it. We’ll roll with this for now and see if it at least makes the numbers make more sense:

Nope. Logging out only reduced the total by a couple hundred. Even if one were to choose the most restrictive possible definition of "new works" and filter out all crossovers and incomplete fics, Steve/Bucky would still have a yearly total of 2,305. Yet the list claims their total is somewhere below 1,500? What the fuck is going on here?

Let’s look at another ship for comparison. This time one that’s very recent and popular enough to make it on the list so we have an actual reference value for comparison: Nick/Charlie (Heartstopper). According to the list, this ship sits at #34 this year with a total of 2630 new works. But what’s AO3 say?

Off by a hundred or so but the values are much closer at least!

If we dig further into the FAQ though we discover Sin #2 (and the most egregious): the counting method. The yearly fic counts are NOT determined by filtering for a certain time period, they’re determined by simply taking a snapshot of the total number of fics in a ship tag at the end of the year and subtracting the previous end-of-year total. For example, if you check a ship tag on Jan 1, 2023 and it has 10,000 fics and check it again on Jan 1, 2024 and it now has 12,000 fics, the difference (2,000) would be the number of "new works" on this chart.

At first glance this subtraction method might seem like a perfectly valid way to count fics, and it’s certainly the easiest way, but it can and did have major consequences to the point of making the entire dataset functionally meaningless. Why? If any older works are deleted or privated, every single one of those will be subtracted from the current year fic count. And to make the problem even worse, beginning at the end of last year there was a big scare about AI scraping fics from AO3, which caused hundreds, if not thousands, of users to lock down their fics or delete them.

The magnitude of this fuck up may not be immediately obvious so let’s look at an example to see how this works in practice.

Say we have two ships. Ship A is more than a decade old with a large fanbase. Ship B is only a couple years old but gaining traction. On Jan 1, 2023, Ship A had a catalog of 50,000 fics and ship B had 5,000. Both ships have 3,000 new works published in 2023. However, 4% of the older works in each fandom were either privated or deleted during that same time (this percentage is was just chosen to make the math easy but it’s close to reality).

Ship A: 50,000 x 4% = 2,000 removed works Ship B: 5,000 x 4% = 200 removed works

Ship A: 3,000 - 2,000 = 1,000 "new" works Ship B: 3,000 - 200 = 2,800 "new" works

This gives Ship A a net gain of 1,000 and Ship B a net gain of 2,800 despite both fandoms producing the exact same number of new works that year. And neither one of these reported counts are the actual new works count (3,000). THIS explains the drastic difference in ranking between a ship like Steve/Bucky and Nick/Charlie.

How is this a useful measure of anything? You can't draw any conclusions about the current size and popularity of a fandom based on this data.

With this system, not only is the reported "new works" count incorrect, the older, larger fandom will always be punished and it’s count disproportionately reduced simply for the sin of being an older, larger fandom. This example doesn’t even take into account that people are going to be way more likely to delete an old fic they're no longer proud of in a fandom they no longer care about than a fic that was just written, so the deletion percentage for the older fandom should theoretically be even larger in comparison.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the author of this "study" KNEW the data was tainted and chose to present it as meaningful anyway. You will only find this if you click through to the FAQ and read about the author’s methodology, something 99.99% of people will NOT do (and even those who do may not understand the true significance of this problem):

The author may try to argue their post states that the tags "which had the greatest gain in total public fanworks” are shown on the chart, which makes it not a lie, but a error on the viewer’s part in not interpreting their data correctly. This is bullshit. Their chart CLEARLY titles the fic count column “New Works” which it explicitly is NOT, by their own admission! It should be titled “Net Gain in Works” or something similar.

Even if it were correctly titled though, the general public would not understand the difference, would interpret the numbers as new works anyway (because net gain is functionally meaningless as we've just discovered), and would base conclusions on their incorrect assumptions. There’s no getting around that… other than doing the counts correctly in the first place. This would be a much larger task but I strongly believe you shouldn’t take on a project like this if you can’t do it right.

To sum up, just because someone put a lot of work into gathering data and making a nice color-coded chart, doesn’t mean the data is GOOD or VALUABLE.

[sanguinesmi1e]

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 (you're here)

Full fic on Ao3

Art of LBM

Pt. 4: An Unexp-ectoed Party (not on Ao3 yet)

Constantine was quietly freaking out. He couldn’t be sure, but he suspected that the ghost who had turned itself into a cute little tatzelwurm to avoid answering questions might be something far beyond his capabilities to deal with. Everything it said and did suggested it was way outside his scope of experience. While Tim used a shoelace to play with it like a rambunctious kitten, John mentally catalogued the things that threatened to give him a panic attack:

Before the ghost even arrived, the blinding power flowing through his spell array nearly knocked him flat. It had felt like being swatted in the eyeballs by an eldritch god.

The ghost appeared in human form, fully alive, before being transformed by the summoning magic. John had only ever heard whispers of legends about a being who could do such a thing. The legends were vague and grandiose, but some epithets included The One Who Walks Between, He Who Straddles Life and Death, Twilight Walker, Shroud Danger Child, and The Halver. 

The ghost could not only see his soul at a glance, it could perceive all the damage he had done making deals with demons.

The ghost implied it was on casual, friendly terms with the Ancient of Time aka Chronos, Kala, Father Time, etc. And that it had altered the timeline at least once already.

It could age. Despite what the ghost said, only Neverborn should be able to age. The dead were static, and given the death that he could feel sustaining the portal, this ghost had definitely died.

It was brilliant enough to pinpoint a weakness and successfully distract Tim by transforming into a shape that could manipulate his protective instincts. John did not want to admit that he also felt protective of the cute little blighter.

It had hopped out of the summoning circle as if it were just chalk scribbles, despite John working in some of his most powerful containment spells as a matter of what he had thought was excessive precaution.

Shite, the list had already reached seven items. The tatzelwurm (had Drake really just named the thing Little Baby Man?) glared at him and called him “Gross!” 

“Seriously!? This cloaking spell should be more than sufficient.” John grumbled. “Did it really have no effect?” If so, that was gonna be item number eight.

Little Baby Man tilted his head. “It worked.” Then he huffed with amusement. 

Thank fuck for small blessings. 

A quickly muttered spell turned his burning cigarette into a makeshift sort of laser pointer, and Constantine distracted Little Baby Man while he tried to think of what to do next.

“Hey kid, this is a problem.” He kept his voice low, and watched to see if the tatzelwurm appeared to pay any attention to him. It dedicated all its attention to the glowing dot, and ignored the two men.

“I assume this isn’t the normal direction your interrogations go.” Drake wound his shoelace around his hand and pocketed it. “It’s certainly a first for me.”

“Ditto, in so many ways.”

“Any idea what to do now?”

“We should probably return him where he came from, and wait for Zatanna to get back from wherever she’s disappeared to now.” John would really like a second opinion. He would also like to dump this mess in someone else’s lap and be on his way. 

Although to be fair, watching the tatzelwurm careen around after his lazer dot was actually pretty fun. Not that he’d ever admit it. Still, the creature was done answering questions and John wasn’t prepared to bind the thing because he didn’t think he’d need to pack the tools to bind an eldritch god when Batman called him to do a “quick consult.”

Danny couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. The CEO person played with him! He did feel a bit bad for hurting his foot, but it was difficult to dwell on regrets or worries when he could attack the string instead. And now there was a red dot to chase! It was very fast and sneaky, but he was faster and sneakier.

Is this what Paulina felt like when she wished herself to be a giant chibi version of herself to be loved and worshipped by everyone? Because he felt adorable. And fierce. He was going to kill that red dot so hard when he finally sunk his claws in it!

Frustratingly, it seemed to also have intangibility powers. Well, Danny knew what to do about that! He concentrated ectoplasm into his paw and bapped it down hard on the dot. This scorched the floor a bit, but when he lifted his paw, the red dot was skewered on one of his claws. It tried to tug away, but he clung tight. Apparently its size belied its strength, because it started to drag him across the floor. 

Danny tried to release the dot, but his claw was firmly snagged, so he resigned himself to being dragged back into the chalk circle. He tingled a bit as he crossed the perimeter, but it wasn’t a bad sensation, just a little odd. Then a portal opened up and pulled him through the water filled tube snake toy sensation in reverse and ugh! Just as bad the second time, if not worse.

The spell spat him out in human form under the Specter Speeder. Or rather, it ejected him at speed so he smacked into the bottom of the Speeder before falling back to the ground with a heavy thud. Thankfully he didn’t crack his head against the concrete, but he still couldn’t stifle a pained groan.

A firm hand wrapped around Danny’s ankle and dragged him out, and he found himself staring up at Drake and Constantine for the third time that day.

“Uh, hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I have some explaining to do.”

Being able to create ghost portals would come in real handy right about now. Maybe he should just commit some arson and let these two deal with escaping the basement on their own.

[inuyashaluver]

Hi!!! How are things? Idk if you saw the picture of Leah in the black pinstripe suit… suffice to say I’ve been having thoughts… and a request pinged through my mind: Leah meeting reader while wearing the suit (first time meeting; connection at first glance) and Leah stays by reader’s side throughout the evening. Heavy flirting, touchy, more dominant bf Leah who brings reader into her arms (basically takes control😩) and suring conti cup celebrations, Leah sees reader wearing her suit jacket and gets cocky. I’m thinking reader is the mysterious hot babe who everyone is wondering about

Love your work and thank you for the Jenni and Misa fics❤️❤️

suit and tie - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which a pretty blonde steals your heart with her suit and tie

warnings: flirty, flirty, flirty, swearing, suggestive

a/n: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE, TURN IT UP - you guys can’t expect me to react normally about this picture, come on! thank you for the love, gorgeous, enjoyyyyy xx

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and leah never believed in love at first sight until you both laid eyes on each other. the instant attraction was obvious for the both of you, hence why as soon as your eyes made contact, you knew you needed to have each other.

—

leah wasn’t really much of a party person. sure, she had fun at parties, but if you were to ask her how she wanted to spend a rare saturday she had off, it most definitely was not at a party.

but because leah values loyalty, when her best friend, alex, begged her to come to a british vogue party, full of the uk’s best in 2022, who was she to decline the puppy dog eyes?

and so, with effective convincing, leah shrugged on her best suit, resisting the eye roll when her best friend assured her this party would be fantastic.

you also weren’t really much of a party person ever, but because of your field of work, you always got dragged to them.

you’re a sports journalist and interviewer. one that was extremely valued not only in the football community, but other sports also.

you took great pride in actually taking time to do your research, to know about your athletes and asked them the questions that actually mattered.

at this time, you were quite new, not really having the opportunity to meet a lot of athletes, including leah.

it took you a while to get to leah’s side of the pitch, and before you had met, you weren’t even doing anything on the field, rather being the one on the television talking about stats and predictions for the games.

—

when leah walked in the room that night, the atmosphere was bustling and she was already regretting coming.

though she held herself well, posture up right with a confident smile present as she walked through the crowds, exchanging polite conversation with familiar faces.

she found a name card with her name on it settled on a table near the back of the room, dimly lit with candlelight amongst the chatter and clinking glasses amongst the room.

she settled, adjusting her suit jacket, slightly tousling her hair in frustration at realising alex wasn’t even sitting on the table with her.

she didn’t know anyone here, about to pull out her phone until she heard a gentle “excuse me, sorry, could i just get through?” sounding from behind her, someone came up next to her and leaned forward to examine the name card next to hers.

a dizzying scent of vanilla flooded her senses, her eyes subconsciously following the smell to look up at the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen in her life. it wasn’t even an exaggeration.

her mouth slightly hung open as she met the person’s eyes, this person being you. you were slightly shocked when you and leah made eye contact, feeling your breath hitch at how gorgeous she was.

everything in the room faded as leah looked at you, there was just something irresistible about you that leah couldn’t comprehend, she hadn’t even said a word to you yet.

after what felt like an eternity, you send a quick smile, pulling out the chair and sitting next to her, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

leah gave herself an internal pep talk, turning slightly to you, her hand extending to yours, “hi, i’m leah” she pronounces, making you look over at her with a surprised smile, a little giggle escaping your mouth, sent straight to leah’s heart which felt like was hammering out of her chest.

you place your hand in hers, shaking it gently with a charming smile, you were so nervous, the girl’s gaze not helping you at all. “(y/n)” you share, enjoying how soft her hands felt against yours,

“it’s lovely to meet you” she grins, “likewise” an electric current passed between you before you reluctantly returned your hands to your laps.

you stayed silent for a moment, before nudging her shoulder with yours softly, “did you get dragged to this as well?” you whisper, leah chuckles.

you don’t think you’ve ever been more attracted to someone in your life and you’ve just met her. leah was feeling the exact same, wanting to impress you and really hoping she doesn’t fuck this up.

“i did actually” she laughs, “don’t tell me you were as well?” she smiles at you, you nod with a grin, “indeed i was” you sigh, taking a swig of the complementary cocktail on the table, wincing when you took a sip.

“what the fuck is that?” you cough, leah looks over at you in surprise, “that bad?” she says with a laugh, watching as you take a sip of some water,

“disgusting, haven’t you tried it?” you grimace, she shakes her head, “if i had it, so do you” you demand, making the blonde laugh in disbelief.

“who made up that rule?” she challenges amusingly, you grab her glass, lifting her hand and directing her fingers over it, pressing your hand over hers for a moment and she swears her body was on fire.

“i did, drink up then, go on” you smile sweetly, leah offers you another smile, shaking her head with a little laugh before she took a little sip of the drink, matching your wince with how bad it was.

you laugh brightly at her expression, making her heart swell with pride, wanting to make you laugh like that again.

“that’s awful” she affirms, “i can’t believe you made me drink that, i thought we had something going here” she flirts, you smirk knowingly, understanding that both of you caught each other’s drift.

leah just exuded confidence, now leaning her head on her hand resting on the table, adjusting so she could face you. you offer her an amused expression, angling your body to mirror her position.

“we can suffer together?” you say cheekily, leah huffs out a laugh, “come to the bar with me?” she offers, you nod instantly, watching as she stood first, her hand held out to you.

you accepted it gratefully, letting her pull you out of your seat, and once you were upright, her hand made its way to the small of your back, directing you through the crowded room.

when you both reached the bar, she made you stand in front of her slightly in a protective nature, leaning down to speak into your ear directly,

“what would you like, gorgeous?” you swallowed the lump in your throat, telling her what you wanted and watching as she ordered for you and her without hesitation.

you turn around to face her as you both waited for the drinks to be prepared, seemingly busy. she offered you a charming smile as you met her gaze head on, feeling a little nervous at the intensity of her stare.

your eyes trail to her suit and back up to her face, apparently exposing yourself leah could clearly tell you were adorning her attire.

she silently challenges you with a cheeky grin, “you alright, pretty girl?” you return her smirk, feeling a little confident yourself, feeling comfortable with leah.

“just appreciating a good suit” you shrug, your hand extending slightly to trace the lapel of it with your finger, leah watched your movement with sharp eyes, barely breathing at your proximity.

“or maybe i’m appreciating the woman in it?” you say innocently, leah flatlined right there. she chuckled lowly, moving closer to you slightly,

“well you’re a sight for sore eyes” leah drawled, hand resting on your hip for a moment before her head nodded towards the drinks now placed on the bar behind you.

her hand seeks refuge on your lower back again, effectively weaving through the room to your seats again. leah only got rid of the contact to pull out your chair, offering you a sweet smile while she gestured you to sit.

when she sat down next to you, her chair was essentially pressed up against yours, her thigh slightly brushing yours, sending a shiver up both of your spine’s.

“so, leah, tell me about yourself” leah and you both share a little giggle, flirting shamelessly as she talked about her, you listened to her intently, she fell for you a little more at seeing you actively listening to her.

you were asking her questions to clarify when you didn’t understand, sharing your own words but not in an overbearing way, adding to the conversation in a way that made things fluid. easy. familiar.

when the blonde directed her own interrogation on you, she listened to each word with extreme focus, smiling when she’d catch your gaze, both of you somehow managing eye contact.

it was like a first date, the way you both shared parts of your lives, it certainly felt like one.

it was clear there was a spark there, the amount of things you had in common was uncanny. both of your hearts raced a little faster when you thought about where this could potentially go, you two were perfect for each other.

the air between the two of you was thickened with anticipation and attraction, the flirting making both of your stomach’s absolutely flip. there was just something so magnetising about the two of you, irresistible like a moth to a light.

her laugh was infectious and so was yours, a smile cracking between the two of you that had your cheeks hurting. each exchanged glance and playful piece of banter made the tension simmer, both of you slowly drawing each other in.

“do you want to dance?” you said with kind eyes, leah nods without hesitation, letting you drag her to the dance floor.

the two of you danced with shared giggles, lingering touches as your bodies moved together. and even though leah and you had obviously skipped multiple steps with each other, she remained respectful, not pushing any boundaries as she danced with you.

you appreciated it, appreciated her and she most definitely appreciated you. the thought of her fucking this up eating her alive and it hadn’t even happened.

“i wasn’t going to come tonight but i’m happy i did” leah said next to your ear, goosebumps rising on your skin when her breath gently grazed it. you smile at her, “me too” your hand moving to gently squeeze her bicep.

you both made way to the table once more after you both got tired, basically sitting on top of each other at this point. you continued to chat and laugh together, feeling like you’d known each other all your lives.

as the night progressed, your hands went over your arms due to a little chill suddenly being present in the room. leah was extremely observant, shrugging off her jacket and slipping it over your shoulders.

you open your mouth to protest but leah fixes you with a little glare, making you roll your eyes slightly before you let her direct your arms into the jacket, her scent making you smile as it surrounded you, more than it already was.

the party was slowly filtering out and you and leah prolonged it as much as you could until essentially getting kicked out.

she walks you out with your arm around her bicep, smiling at people as you walked past. you were both outside and gave each other slightly sad smiles, the thought of the night ending leaving a little crack in both of your hearts.

“i had a lot of fun with you tonight” you smile at her, “so did i, a lot of fun” she smiles back, her eyes trailing all over your face as you looked at each other.

“so, williamson, can i have your number?” you say cheekily, your cheeks a little pink as you asked, leah smiles fondly, nodding and fishing her phone out of her bag, prompting you to do the same. “beat me to it, cheeky”

you exchanged numbers, hands brushing against each other’s as you gave back one another’s phone.

“i have to say, you suit that jacket a lot better than me” she smirks, you shake your head, “thank you, but you’re otherworldly in this” you flirt, making her cheeks burn as she avoided your gaze for a moment.

her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek for a moment with a chuckle, taking the leap and pulling you closer so her lips were ghosting yours.

her eyes bore into yours, glancing down at your lips as her breath fanned them gently, your heart spiked, feeling incredibly warm.

your eyes flicker down at hers before she closed the gap, her lips moving softly with yours. you sigh against her as she pulls you closer by your hips, your hand gently holding the side of her neck as you kissed her.

she pulls away with a sharp breath, her breath mingling with yours as her forehead resting against yours. “let me take you out, tomorrow?” she says almost a little desperately, but you both were honestly.

“okay” you breathe out, she smiles before pressing a tender kiss to your mouth, her thumbs rubbing gently over your waist as she pulled away at arms length.

you smile at her sheepishly, her sporting her own shy smile as she looked at you. the two of you giggle again, not really believing the circumstances of kissing your dream girl and going on a date the next day.

she waits until you get picked up by your taxi, pulling you into a warm hug, the embrace soft and gentle, contrasting the insufferable flirting you’d been torturing each other with all night.

“i’ll give you back your jacket on our date” you say cheesily, leah laughs, brushing a stray hair away from your face before she cradles your cheek, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone affectionately.

she presses a parting kiss to your lips, “can’t wait, baby” she whispers against you, pecking your mouth again quickly before she ushered you to go home, not wanting you to linger out in the cold.

you texted all night, sleeping at an ungodly time but it was all worth it. leah took you on that date and you both fell in love, suddenly claiming yourselves as party people.

—

you’d now been dating for a little over two years, infatuated an understatement for your relationship. you moved in together, both of you flourishing with each other in your respective careers but also with one another.

people knew the two of you were dating, you were the definition of private but not a secret. your social media for each other was essentially a shrine.

—

it was the continental cup final, arsenal vs chelsea. you and alex were the main journalists covering the match that leah was extremely excited about.

during warm ups, she threw you a cocky grin with a wink as she saw you getting mic’d up, only growing when she realised what you were wearing.

the blazer from the night she swept you off your feet all those years ago. you wave at her when she blows you a kiss with a wave, grinning as alex teased the both of you while you both prepared.

when the final whistle blew and leah got dragged into a group hug, she bounded over to you.

“arsenal have won the continental cup!” you exclaim, feeling a body attach to you from behind, strong arms wrapped around your middle while multiple kisses were pressed to your cheeks.

you lean back into the body, already knowing it was your girlfriend’s. “leah williamson is clearly happy about the win” alex teases, making leah smile against your cheek,

her hand moves over yours holding the microphone, “very happy” she chuckles, moving to stand next to you with her hand on your hips, staying for a short interview conducted by alex.

you gave her heart eyes the whole time, buzzing with excitement to congratulate her properly off camera. if you weren’t confirmed officially with the blonde, you definitely were now.

as soon as the staff yelled ‘cut’, leah pulled you into a kiss, your arms wound around her neck as her arms went around your waist again.

“hi, gorgeous” she mumbles against your lips, “hey, champion” you grin proudly, pecking her lips a couple of times while she smiles down at you.

“congratulations, my winner” you pinch her cheek softly, she moves her head quickly to jokingly bite your finger, relishing in the giggle she elicited from you. “thank you, my girl” she winks,

“this is a nice blazer, where’d you get this?” she teases, you can’t help but smile at her, “oh, it’s my girlfriend’s” you kiss her again, her hands move to squeeze your hips.

“you look absolutely gorgeous” she breathes out, “so sweet, my love, so do you” you grin, leah smirks, “i prefer you with nothing on but that’s for my eyes only” she says lowly in your ear, you gasp and slap her shoulder lightly,

“you can’t be sweet for two seconds-” you scold, cut off with her lips against yours again in a gentle kiss, making you hum against her before you ushered her to get her medal and lift the trophy.

after the trophy was lifted, she made a quick effort to grab a bottle of champagne and chase you around with it, threatening to spray it on you. you both laugh loudly as you ran around the pitch, your hearts full of affection for each other.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s yours and leah’s blazer 🫠! ily alex x

liked by alexscott2 and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: double win if you ask me

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yourname: so cheesyyyyyy

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you love it

↳ yourname: do i?

↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh you definitely do

↳ yourname: don’t be so sure of yourself, williamson

↳ leahwilliamsonn: extremely. thin. ice.

[rubyreduji]

king size bed — kmg & jjk

summary: mingyu has a problem: he's in love with his best friend's girlfriend. but does it go deeper than that, in ways that maybe even mingyu doesn't realize?

tags: smut (minors dni!), p.rnstar!au warnings: gyu is kind of a perv, explicit unprotected sex, filming explicit content, sending nudes, masturbation, sexting, fingering (f. rec), oral (m. + f. rec), threesome, cuckolding, creampie, cum eating, hair pulling, double penetration, anal, kinda voyeurism, multiple orgasms, squirting, maybe mingyu is a little bisexual in this…for only a second wc: 10.1k  an: this idea came to me randomly and i quite literally ascended to heaven and then fell straight down to hell and produced this :D also this fic is very mingyu centric as it’s told in his pov (sorry armys who may find this)

Mingyu wants to go home.

Around him, the walls thump to the music blasting throughout the club. If this was four years ago and he was still in college this would be great, but it’s not. All Mingyu does is sit in a booth and stare at the dance floor, watching as the bodies grind up against each other.

The reason Mingyu is even out tonight is to try and find someone to take home, but he’s not in the mood. All of his recent hook ups have been unsuccessful and he’d rather go home and try his luck with his trusty fist rather than try and flirt with some half-drunk, half-interested person in a stuffy, overly noisy club.

It’s not like Mingyu doesn’t want to get his dick wet, he’s honestly been more horny recently than he ever has been, but for some reason the idea of going home and watching porn sounds much better than actually trying to get with someone here. Maybe Mingyu has a problem, or maybe it’s because of Mingyu’s most recent discovery.

He’s not sure how he lucked out so bad, but one day all of his normal Twitter porn creators weren’t doing it for him, and he happened to stumble across a new page. A reblog from one of the accounts he already followed. The person in the video was stunning. No face, but still the most beautiful body Mingyu has ever seen.

When he clicked on the account he was surprised to see such a small following on the account, only to find out the creator only started posting recently. It’s needless to say that Mingyu spent the rest of the night jacking off to the few photos and videos on her page. “Sweetheart” that’s what her screen name was listed as. 

Even since discovering her, Mingyu’s become slightly obsessed and he’s taken liberty to getting off to her almost every night, even going as far as to subscribe to the content she has behind a paywall. 

Mingyu’s not sure why he’s so attached to her. Maybe it’s her soft aesthetic or the way she’s like a little secret gold mind he found. Or maybe it’s because she reminds Mingyu of….

He glances across the room, his eyes landing on where his best friend stands. Jungkook is leaned up against the bar, a small smirk on his face, his arm wrapped around the waist of the prettiest girl inside the whole club. Your body is pressed up against Jungkook’s as you press your lips to your boyfriend’s neck, marking his skin up with your lipstick.

You’re dressed in a tight, short dress colored in the most flattering shade of red. Mingyu’s favorite color. He does his best to not focus on your tits and the way your cleavage is accentuated by your dress, barely held up by the skinny straps on your shoulders.

Mingyu knows it’s an issue. He shouldn’t have such a huge crush on his best friend’s girlfriend, and he definitely shouldn’t be thinking of you like that either. Especially when you’re his friend as well. It’s not like he wants to, but he can’t help but think that you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever met. Inside and out.

You’re Jungkook’s girlfriend though, and he would never make a move on you or ever make you uncomfortable. Though, that doesn’t stop him from doing very shameful things in the dead of night, locked away in his bedroom, his hand wrapped around his cock as his eyes are trained on the video of the girl that reminds Mingyu of you just a little too well.

Mingyu must have gotten lost in his thoughts, staring at you, and when he focuses in again, he makes eye contact with Jungkook. The younger man winks at his best friend before guiding you out of the club. Mingyu’s eyes trail after you two the whole time, and he already knows you two are off to go fuck. If he’s being honest, you two most likely won’t even make it out of the parking lot, taking advantage of the tinted windows on Jungkook’s car.

The whole reason Mingyu even came tonight was to appease Jungkook, and now that the other man has left, Mingyu takes that as his cue to leave as well. The drive back to Mingyu’s apartment feels like an eternity and all he wants to do is crawl into bed, masturbate, and go to bed.

And yeah, maybe it is a little sad. Jacking off at home alone while his best friend fucks the girl of his dreams while all he can do is imagine it’s him in his place, but it’s not like there’s any other options.

Now if Mingyu was really being childish, you were always Mingyu’s first. 

You two went to the same high school together, but you two didn’t get close until college. You had a gen-ed together and when Mingyu was the only familiar face in the room, you latched on. Mingyu didn’t mind, you were sweet and funny and always let Mingyu study in your dorm when his roommates were too loud. 

Later, after Mingyu and Jungkook became best friends, that’s when the three of you started to form a friend group. Then you and Jungkook started to hang out one and one, and eventually those hang outs turned into dates, and now three years later, even after graduating college, you two are still going strong.

Mingyu’s only a little salty, maybe it’s because Jungkook knew Mingyu had something for you, or maybe it’s because really if it wasn’t for him Jungkook wouldn’t have even met you. It doesn’t matter though, because in the end you got with Jungkook and Mingyu respects that.

When Mingyu finally gets home he’s quick to lock his door and drop his pants, crawling into his bed and pulling up Twitter. Right on the top of his feed is a post from Sweetheart and Mingyu groans. She’s dressed in a pair of sexy red lingerie panties, and it automatically makes Mingyu think of the dress you had on tonight. That’s not the best part of the photo though, no the best part is the fact she's not wearing a bra, her chest bare and her nipples staring right at Mingyu.

His cock is already hard, it’s been hard since he watched you kiss up and down Jungkook’s neck, and he shoves his hand into his boxers unceremoniously to pull his cock out. He spits into his palm before wrapping it around his length and starting to pump.

He clicks on Sweetheart’s page, hoping she’s posted more or something, and he’s grateful to see a post from only a few minutes ago.

Live show on my OnlyCarats, come check it out ;)

Mingyu’s finger is clicking on the link in record time and it takes the video a moment to load before his screen reveals Sweetheart. She’s still in the pretty red panties from earlier, but now they’re pushed to the side as she slides her fingers in and out of her wet pussy. She’s laid out on a large bed, dressed in all white bedding that contracts nicely against the panties.

Sweetheart has done a few live videos before, but this is the first one Mingyu has been able to watch in real time, rather than a video uploaded after the live. He’s entranced as he watches her finger fuck her pussy. She’s letting out soft pants as she gets lost in her pleasure.

“F-fuck,” Mingyu whines. His hand is slick with pre-cum as he pumps his cock furiously in his fist. 

Mingyu wonders if you’re going to pull out a dildo, like you sometimes do in your videos, but rather another person appears on camera.

Clearly the body is a male figure, clad in black slacks and a black dress shirt. Sweetheart has done a few photos and videos with a guy before, but Mingyu’s never seen him in one of her lives before. It’s not that he minds too much, but a part of him wishes that he could stay pretending like the whole thing was for him, that he was the only person watching.

Mingyu can’t dwell on his disappointment though, because the man in the video is unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. It’s big, though Mingyu doesn’t think it’s bigger than his own. The man grabs the camera before laying back, allowing Sweetheart to climb on top of him.

She grinds against him for a little bit before lifting herself up and lining the man’s cock up to her entrance. Mingyu can see the way her legs tremble as she sinks down, and suddenly Mingyu doesn’t mind the other guy too much. From the angle he’s filming at, it’s almost like Sweetheart is riding Mingyu, and that drives him just a little bit insane.

Mingyu pumps his fist at the same speed Sweetheart is bouncing on the man’s cock, imagine that it’s Sweetheart…imagining that it’s you. Mingyu whimpers and bucks his hips up, letting himself get lost in the fantasy.

Now Mingyu can’t get the idea of you in his lap, your thighs straddling his as your pussy clamps down around him, out of his head. He thinks about your soft tits and how they’d bounce as you rode him, his cock hitting inside of you deep and rough.

It doesn’t take long for Mingyu to let out a strangled moan as his cock twitches and he spills cum all over his hand. He lays in bed, his chest heaving with his pants. Mingyu opens his eyes and glances at his phone to see Sweetheart’s body trembling as she cums as well. Mingyu watches intently as Sweetheart pulls herself off of the man’s cock, his cum dripping out of her as she does so. 

Sweetheart ends the live soon after and Mingyu gets up to clean himself off. He decides to take a shower, scrubbing himself off like it will clean away the sins he just committed. As soon as he gets out of the shower he dries off and stumbles back into bed, deciding to call it a night.

Mingyu doesn’t see you or Jungkook again until almost a week later when Jungkook invites Mingyu over for dinner. Mingyu stops by the store to pick up a bottle of wine before heading over to the apartment you and Jungkook share. 

As soon as Mingyu knocks on the door you throw the door open and pull Mingyu into a hug. Mingyu hugs you back and if he holds on for a little too long, well you do too. When you pull back Mingyu gets a good look at your outfit. You’re dressed in a short skirt and a low cut tank top. You have a large cardigan draped over the whole outfit and Mingyu blushes slightly. You just look so cute.

You clasp on to Mingyu’s arm as you walk with him into the kitchen. “Kookie, look who’s here!”

“Hey Gyu,” Jungkook smiles at his best friend. Jungkook is standing at the stove, dressed in a blue apron, as he tends to the food. “Glad you could make it.”

“Of course man. I brought some wine as well.” Mingyu places the bottle onto the counter.

“Sounds great. Hey, babe, could you grab some glasses? The food is almost ready.”

Mingyu watches as you two move around each other, the flow between you natural and domestic. It makes Mingyu’s heart twinge a bit. You two have always been a good pair. When you and Jungkook started dating it didn’t surprise anyone, and though Mingyu was a little upset by it, he could see it as well. Even three years later you two make the perfect pair, if not more so than back then, settled into your domestic life with one another.

It doesn’t take long for the three of you to be sat around the dining table.

“So Mingyu, how that’s project at work coming along?”

Mingyu is surprised that you remember, as he only mentioned it offhandedly a couple weeks ago. He shouldn’t sell you so short though. It’s one of the things that attracts Mingyu to you so much. You’re just so charismatic and attentive to everyone you meet. 

“It’s going well. My boss actually promoted me to head of the project because he liked my ideas so much. We should have the prototype done by the end of next week,” Mingyu tells you. 

“That’s amazing Mingyu! Congrats!” You cheer.

“That sounds like a reason to drink.” Jungkook raises his glass and Mingyu chuckles before picking his own up and clinking it against Jungkook’s and then yours.

The rest of the night follows the same pattern. You guys continue your easy flow of conversation during dinner and then after you move into the living room where you put on a random movie to watch in the background. The scene is just a little too nice for Mingyu’s well-being. It’s too…comfortable, too sweet. Like Mingyu is meant to be there, with you sitting on the other side of the couch as Jungkook sits a chair nearby as you joke and talk. Like Mingyu is a part of your couple. Like he’s yours.

Those thoughts are shoved to the back of his head as the night goes on and as more alcohol enters his system. It’s clear you’re also feeling the effects as you move closer to Mingyu’s side of the couch, draping yourself over him. Mingyu takes a sharp breath at the feel of your tits pressing against him as you rub your head on his shoulder.

“I love you so much Gyu,” you slur. “You’re my favoritest ever.”

“Hey!” Jungkook cries from where he’s still sitting in the chair, not too far off from where you and Mingyu are in drunkenness.

“Shh, don’t listen to him,” you say, pressing even closer to Mingyu, your breath now brushing up against his ear as you continue in a whisper. “You’re my favorite. My best friend. My number once since freshman year of college. Am I your favorite?”

Mingyu giggles, despite his growing flusteredness. “You’re my favoritest.”

“Good, we are each other’s most favorite. And Jungkook is neither of our favorites, because I love you Gyu!” You press a giant kiss to Mingyu’s cheek.

“Hey, what are you two saying over there?” Jungkook stands up and moves over to the couch. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap as you giggle and playfully thrash around.

“Nooooo! Let me go. I wanna cuddle with Mingyu!” You squirm in Jungkook’s arms as Jungkook holds you tighter, kissing your neck. “Mingyu save me!”

Mingyu moves forward and grabs onto your arms, pulling you towards him. Jungkook still has a hold on you, and you three end up in a big pile together, all giggling. You three lay there for a moment, in silence, before you let out a big yawn.

“Well I think that’s my cue to get this one to bed,” Jungkook says. “You good to get a ride home, Gyu?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for having me over man.”

“Yeah, we love having you over. You’re our best friend, you know you’re always welcome.”

“Sleep well Gyu!” You give him a giant hug before allowing Jungkook to pick you up and carry you to the bedroom. Mingyu watches you two retire to your bedroom, sobering up enough in the moment for a pain to clench his heart.

In the cab ride home Mingyu can't help but think about you. The way your breath brushed against his face as you leaned in to tell him you love him. He wonders what it would be like to actually tell you he loves you. What it would be like for you to cradle his face and lean in and kiss him. He imagines holding you, waking up next to you in the morning, going on sweet dates. 

Mingyu groans. He’s got to stop doing this to himself.  

As soon as he gets to his building, he stumbles through his apartment before falling into bed. Out of habit he pulls out his phone, opening Twitter. Directly at the top of his feed is a post from Sweetheart. 15 minutes ago.

A mirror selfie in her bra and underwear. It’s not much, but it still has Mingyu twitching in his boxers. Against any of his better judgment that he would make when sober, he clicks on her account and taps the message icon.

pup: Hey :)) love the new photo

Mingyu’s not sure why he sent the message. He’s not expecting a response. Not at 3am and not when he’s a total stranger. It’s clear Sweetheart has a boyfriend, or at least someone who does videos with her. He didn’t even send her money.

Mingyu’s about to just go to bed when he hears the chirp of his phone’s notifications. When he checks his phone, his eyes widen when he sees the Twitter notification.

Sweetheart: hehe thank you

Sweetheart: would you like to see more? 😉

pup: Yes. Yes, of course. How much?

Sweetheart: no charge baby. i see you in my notifs all the time, and you’re a subscriber on my OF. think of this as a treat for my biggest fan 😘

Mingyu groans. He has no clue how he’s lucked out so hard. His cock is already half hard at the thought that Sweetheart knows who he is.

pup: Holy shit. Thank you so much. I don’t know what to say.

Sweetheart: nothing to say, just enjoy :)

Sweetheart: took these just for you, so don’t go spreading them around, okay?

Sweetheart: [image]

Sweetheart: [image]

Sweetheart: [image]

Sweetheart: maybe you can tell me what those do to you…

Mingyu’s mouth drops open at the photos. The first one is a selfie of Sweetheart from the neck down. Her bra has been removed and her arms are pulled in to push her tits together. Mingyu wonders what it would be like to put his mouth on them, or even better, put his dick between them.

The second photo is a photo of Sweetheart sitting on her bed. The large bed is still dressed in the normal white bedding it has on it during her streams. Sweetheart is sitting back on her calves and Mingyu can see the slight wet patch starting to form on her panties.

The final photo has Mingyu’s mind reeling the most. A cropped down photo of Sweetheart’s lips wrapped around a dildo, her lips gently suckling the tip.

Sweetheart has never posted anything above the neck and this is Mingyu’s first time seeing the lower half of her face, and it’s her sucking a dildo no less. Mingyu groans and gives in, reaching down to fist his cock. He imagines that it’s his dick that Sweetheart is sucking, her pretty lips wrapped around his tip as she takes him in his mouth, using her lips and tongue to pleasure him.

pup: Oh my god. Fuck. You’re gorgeous.

pup: Thank you so much.

Sweetheart: i’m glad you like hehe 

Sweetheart: how about you show me how much you like them…👀 (if you’re comfortable)

Holy shit. Sweetheart is asking him for a dick pick.

Mingyu fumbles with the camera on his phone before he snaps a few photos. You can see the glisten of pre-cum already coating his tip and his hand is wrapped around the base of his cock, holding it up. Mingyu presses send to Sweetheart and anxiously waits the reply.

Sweetheart: wow you’re big

Sweetheart: i wouldn’t mind taking a ride on that rodeo hehe

Sweetheart: fuck i want a dick inside of me :((( you’d reach so deep inside of me, fill me up nice and good

Sweetheart: would you like that pup? my tight pussy wrapped around your cock?

pup: Yes. Yes, so fucking much.

Sweetheart: i’d milk you so well

Sweetheart: ugh this isn’t fair

pup: I want you so bad. You’re perfect. Literally the most sexy body I’ve ever seen.

Mingyu struggles to type as his right hand jacks off his cock furiously. He can’t believe he’s sexting Sweetheart. He can feel his balls tighten the closer he gets to his orgasm and before he can do anything to stop it, his cock is twitching and he’s spurting cum all over his chest and hand.

Mingyu lets out a low groan before opening his camera app and snapping another photo.

pup: Look what you made me do.

pup: [image]

Sweetheart: fuck that’s so hot

Sweetheart: wish it was inside me though :( or that i was there to lick it up

Sweetheart: fuck i’m touching myself

Sweetheart: imagining that it’s your big cock inside of me

Sweetheart: [video]

Mingyu nearly nuts again just from the video Sweetheart has sent. A ten second clip of her thrusting the dildo from earlier inside of her sopping wet cunt. Mingyu truly thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

Sweetheart: fuck i came so quickly

Sweetheart: god i’m going to be thinking about your cock for weeks now

Sweeheart: thanks for the orgasm :)

pup: No, thank you. I’m never going to forget this.

Sweetheart: good. hope you jack off to those photos more, put them to good use ;)

Sweetheart: thanks for a good time. night pup

Though Mingyu would love to say he went to bed right after, he of course jacks off again before eventually passing out for the night.

After that night, neither Sweetheart nor Mingyu try to contact each other again, but Mingyu does in fact jack off to her photos again and again and again. Especially after days where he hangs out with you and Jungkook.

Look, he’s not proud of it, but at least he can get a release somehow.

Like right now, as he sits propped up in bed, rubbing at his half-hard cock through his boxers, as he watches the beginning of Sweetheart’s stream. Currently she’s just finishing setting up the camera and getting everything situated.

Earlier, Mingyu went out with you and Jungkook to a new cat cafe you wanted to check out. Though both Jungkook and Mingyu are more dog people, it’s no secret they would do anything for you. The whole time you kept gushing to the two best friends on how cute the cats are and how much you want one. It was just so fucking cute and it didn’t help that you just happened to be wearing a shirt that did nothing to hide the outline of your hard nipples. It’s not like Mingyu meant to stare, but to be frank they were kind of staring at him first.

And then when you reached over to pet a cat that had hopped into Mingyu’s lap and you just happened to accidentally brush his dick with your hand. You didn’t notice, or at least didn’t mention it, but it has Mingyu quickly standing up and displacing the cat in order to head to the bathroom to try and adjust himself so you and Jungkook didn’t catch sight of the halfy he was sporting. 

On screen, Sweetheart has finally positioned herself right in the middle of the large, white bed. She’s just unbuckled and thrown off her bra and now she’s groping her own tits, squeezing at her chest and flicking at her hard nipples. Mingyu wonders what it would be like to suck on her tits. Tug at her nipples with his teeth and leave marks all over the supple flesh.

When Mingyu pulls himself from his fantasy to go back to watching the stream, he notices the man who’s always in Sweetheart’s videos has appeared. He sits behind Sweetheart on the back, his arms wrapped around her torso so he’s now the one groping her boobs. His head leans down slightly and his mouth presses to her neck. Mingyu catches sight of the lip ring in the right corner of his mouth.

It’s then that Mingyu takes in the full appearance of the man. He’s considerably dressed down this time. While he’s usually dressed in full black dress pants and dress shirt, most likely to better keep his identity hidden, this time he’s in a white t-shirt and jeans. The outfit’s familiar to Mingyu, too familiar.

It’s understandable why the man has never showed off his full arms before, as they’re covered in a sleeve of tattoos, an identifiable mark. Mingyu can't look. His mouth goes dry and his stomach drops. 

It’s undeniable. Mingyu knows every piece of that sleeve like the back of his hand. He was there when half of them were inked. Mingyu’s stomach turns. It all makes sense now. The whole reason why Sweetheart drew him in the first place was because of her resemblance to you. Now Mingyu gets it. It’s not that Sweetheart resembles you, it’s that she is you. And the mystery man in each of her (your) videos…is his best friend.

On screen Jungkook has moved on from your tits and down to your clothed pussy. His fingers rub soft circles into your clit as his other hand keeps your thighs spread. Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight.

No.

No, it’s wrong. It’s dirty.

It’s not fair that Mingyu knows your identity when you try so hard to keep it a secret. Not to mention it’s immoral of him to continue to jerk off to your videos. You and Jungkook are his best friends. And even if he has the occasional fantasy about you…it’s completely different than actually watching your sex work and knowing it’s you.

But then again…you are uploading them for a reason. Your bio even says “just here to aid and please” and this would be aiding and pleasing Mingyu. A lot. 

Before Mingyu can even talk himself out of it, he’s lost his boxers and has his hand wrapped around his cock. He strokes it slowly as he watches Jungkook slowly sink a finger into your cunt. You squirm slightly in his grip, letting out a soft whine as he pushes a second one in.

Jungkook pumps his finger in and out of you, the digits getting more shiny with your slick the longer he goes on. Your fingers dig into his forearm as your legs twitch. Mingyu can hear Jungkook chuckle and he wonders how he’s never noticed before.

Jungkook pulls his fingers out of you and you quickly push your panties off as Jungkook climbs off the bed. In a matter of seconds Jungkook is back on the bed, completely naked now. He grabs the camera as you situate yourself on the bed laying down.

The camera moves to show a POV shot of Jungkook fucking you in missionary. Mingyu watches intently as his best friend’s cock moves in and out of your cunt, his hand fucking his own cock at the same pace.

God this is so fucked up.

Even so, it doesn’t take Mingyu long to blow his load. It’s almost embarrassing. Before the stream is even finished Mingyu quickly logs off and gets up to clean himself.

Fuck.

You’re Sweetheart. The girl of his dreams is the other girl of his dreams. It’s been you all this time. Of course it has. That’s just Mingyu’s luck.

Oh God. He’s sexted with you. You’ve seen his dick. Does Jungkook know? He has to, right? There’s no way you’d cheat on him. You’d never do that to him. No, no, he has to know.

He has to.

“Mingyu, my man!” Jungkook slaps a hand onto Mingyu’s shoulder as soon as he approaches.

“Hey Kook.” Mingyu really hopes his voice doesn’t waver as he greets his best friend. He hasn’t seen Jungkook since the other day and this is the first time he’s facing him since finding out that well, he’s been jacking off to porn of him and his girlfriend for months now. 

“Look Gyu, we’ve got to talk about something.”

Oh no. Jungkook knows. He knows and he’s mad because Mingyu sexted his girlfriend and he’s ruined a three year long relationship.

“Talk? A-about what?”

“Not here. Let’s go back to my apartment. No one’s home right now.”

Though Mingyu is glad that he won’t have to face you, he’s still a bit concerned about what Jungkook has to talk to him about. And in private no less. There’s no way it’s not about what Mingyu thinks it’s about. But also, how could he know?

The trip to Jungkook’s apartment is eerily quiet and it isn’t until Jungkook closes and locks the door that he finally speaks up.

“You want anything to drink?”

“N-no, uhm, I’m good.”

“Cool. Come on, come sit on the couch with me.” Jungkook leads Mingyu into the living room and sits down. Mingyu cautiously follows.

“So…what did you uhm, want to talk about?” Mingyu stares down at his lap, trying not to make eye contact with his best friend.

“Mingyu…I want you to fuck my girlfriend.”

Mingyu thinks he blacks out for a moment.

What in the fuck did Jungkook just say to him?

“I- excuse me?”

“I want you to fuck my girlfriend. If we’re being honest, she’s kind of wanted to fuck you for a while now, and we’ve been talking about it and I thought I’d offer you into our bedroom.”

Mingyu knows he looks like an idiot right now, but he can’t believe what Jungkook is telling him. He has to be pulling his leg. He knows that Mingyu knows about the porn account and he’s making fun of him. There’s no other explanation. His best friend is the most jealous man on the planet, there is absolutely no way he’s offering Mingyu to fuck you. 

“Stop saying stupid stuff, Kook,” Mingyu grumbles. “That’s not funny to joke about. Does she know you’re saying this?”

“I’m not joking! Seriously. I know you’ve always had a crush on her, and now here’s your chance to be with her! I don’t know why you’re not jumping on this opportunity.”

Jungkook is right, any other time Mingyu might be ecstatic, but there’s no way Jungkook is being serious. “Because you’re just pranking me!” 

Jungkook sighs. “Okay, I didn’t want to bring it up, but I know you know about the porn account.”

Mingyu stiffens and his mouth goes dry. “I- I don’t know-”

“Yes you do. Sweetheart? I saw the photos left open on your phone the other day, and I know those are photos she only sent you.”

Mingyu’s face heats up and he’s sure he’s red. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t know at first and I wasn’t planning on keeping watching and-”

“It’s okay. I literally just offered you to fuck my girlfriend.”

“But why? You hate when other guys even look at her.”

“Because it’s you, Gyu.” That’s all Jungkook answers, staring at Mingyu sincerely, like Mingyu truly is the only person he’d be comfortable sharing his girlfriend with.

Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. Could this really just be his dreams coming true? “I swear to god if you’re messing with me.”

“I promise I’m not. Look, just come over on Friday and you’ll see. Okay?”

“...Okay.”

Mingyu is nervous.

He’s still not completely sure that Jungkook is telling the truth, but if he is then that means Mingyu is going to fuck you tonight. 

His heart is beating intensely in his chest as he drives over to your apartment. It takes him nearly fifteen minutes to get the courage to exit his car and enter the building. Before he can fully chicken out he knocks on the door.

Jungkook is the one to open the door and he ushers Mingyu in before closing and locking the door behind him. Jungkook then leads Mingyu to the bedroom and Mingyu suddenly realizes that oh shit, this is real. This is real and he’s about to fuck you.

As soon as they enter the room, Mingyu feels his throat go dry and his pants tighten. You’re laid out on the bed, the same large bed from all of your photos and videos. The same bed that Mingyu has wished countless of times that it was him on it with you, or at least with Sweetheart.

You’re dressed in a red, see-through babydoll set. You stare up at Mingyu, your eyes already hooded with lust. Mingyu watches as your eyes trail down his figure, stopping at his crotch. Your eyes then move back up to Mingyu’s, making eye contact as you wink at him. Holy shit.

Mingyu feels Jungkook shove him forward slightly. “Go buddy, she’s all yours.”

It takes Mingyu a few more seconds to process. He truly can’t believe this is real. That you’re here and he’s allowed to touch you, to feel you, to let all of his fantasies run wild. The thing that finally get Mingyu in motion is you giggling.

“C’mon Gyu.” You’re motioning him towards you and Mingyu stumbles forward until he makes it to the bed. His heart is thumping so rapidly it wouldn’t be a surprise if he went into cardiac arrest.

Mingyu crawls onto the bed and over to you where you smile at him and reach forward. Mingyu crawls on top of you and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down so he rests his weight on you. You move one of your hands to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb over it.

“Hi pretty boy. Are you excited?” Mingyu nods his head stupidly, his mind too focused on your touch. “Well are you going to kiss me?”

Finally, Mingyu’s mind seems to catch up and he surges forward. With your hand still on his cheek, you guide him to your lips. Right away, Mingyu’s desperation is apparent as he presses into you hard.

Kissing you is somehow even better than Mingyu expected. Your lips are soft and you smell so good. You hold onto Mingyu, kissing him deeper and deeper. If Mingyu is being honest he already feels a little drunk on you.

Mingyu swipes his tongue over your bottom lip and you open up, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He can feel you smirk against his lips slightly before you start to suck on his tongue. It catches Mingyu off guard and he whines right into your mouth, his hips bucking forward against you.

Mingyu’s cock is already half hard just from kissing you, and he can’t help but rut his hips into you. You don’t seem to mind though, just threading your fingers through his hair. Your hands feel good against him and Mingyu allows his own hands to roam over you as well.

Your body is warm and soft under his palms as he drags them over your torso. The rough lace of the babydoll scratches at his hand as he cups your breast. The material is thin and Mingyu can feel the pebbling of your nipple through it. His fingertips brush over the bud once more and you gasp and arch your back into his touch. It only makes Mingyu needier.

Mingyu breaks the kiss so he can have a second to catch his breath. You don’t need the time though, and you don’t waste time pressing your lips to his jaw. You duck your head down as you slowly trail your kisses down the column on his neck, stopping to suck on the skin every so often.

As much as Mingyu loves you leaving marks all along his neck, he wants to put his mouth on you. He pushes off of you slightly to pull away.

He takes a moment to stare at you, laid out under him. Your chest rises and falls with your heavy breaths and you’re staring up at him with hooded eyes. Your lips are puffy from all of the kissing and your hair is mussed from rubbing against the pillow. You look gorgeous.

“Gyu,” you say, your voice slightly raspy, “you’re trembling.” You reach up to caress his face once again.

Mingyu didn’t notice it, but now that you’ve pointed it out, Mingyu realizes he’s shaking. His heart is pounding in his chest, like how he feels when he’s drank too much caffeine. 

“Are you nervous, puppy?” You ask Mingyu. The nickname makes him whine slightly. You’ve always called him that, but in this context it hit so differently.

Mingyu nods slightly. “I’ve- I’ve wanted this for so long. I don’t want to mess it up.”

You smile gently at him. “You won’t. I like you a lot Gyu, and I want this too. Don’t be nervous, okay? Just enjoy it.”

“O-okay,” Mingyu tells you.

“Now, can I take this off of you?” Your fingers play with the hem of Mingyu’s shirt and he nods. You help him tug the shirt off, revealing his bare torso.

If Mingyu is proud of one thing, it’s his physique, and you seem to appreciate it as well as you trail your fingers down his chest and abs, feeling the grooves of his muscles under your fingertips.

Mingyu is still shaking slightly, but he leans down to start pressing kisses to your chest. Your boobs are soft under his mouth as he starts to suck the subtle skin into his mouth.

There’s a small ribbon holding the front of your lingerie together and Mingyu tugs at the bow until it unties and the fabric falls away from your body, exposing your bare tits to him. Your tits look delicious and Mingyu cups one in his hand and brings his mouth to it. His lips suck on your nipple, his tongue flicking at it every so often.

Your body writhes under him as your fingers dig into his shoulder muscles. Mingyu’s cock is hard and straining in his pants and he so desperately wants to touch himself but also doesn’t want to pull any of his attention from you.

Mingyu’s hands move down your torso even further, his hands running over your waist and down to your hips. He balls the fabric of your panties in his fist, tugging at the lace slightly.

“F-fuck you’re perfect,” Mingyu mumbles into your chest before going back to mouthing at your tits. 

Your hips buck up slightly and Mingyu drags one of his hands from his hips to press against your clothes slit. You’ve soaked through your panties and Mingyu moans into your skin at how wet you’ve gotten. He’s watched you touch yourself a million times and has seen how wet you get, but feeling it for himself makes his mind go fuzzy. His fingers push against your panties, slightly pushing them into you, collecting more of your arousal. 

“G-gyu, please, need you.”

Mingyu pulls his mouth off of you to sit back. He looks over to the side, acknowledging Jungkook for the first time since he’s crawled onto the bed. His best friend is seated on a plush chair in the corner of the room, his eyes trained on where you and Mingyu are on the bed. 

Jungkook makes eye contact with Mingyu before smirking and nodding slightly. “Go on Gyu, give her what she wants.”

With Jungkook approval, Mingyu hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs, leaving you fully unclothed. Your legs part and Mingyu can see how slick your pussy really is.

Your cunt looks even prettier in person and Mingyu grabs your thighs and pushes them even further apart so he can slot his shoulders between them. He trails kisses along your inner thigh, move his mouth closer to your sopping heat. Mingyu hesitates slightly, before finally pushing forward and swiping his tongue through your folds.

Your arousal coats his tongue in a thick layer and Mingyu moans into your pussy at the taste. Your cunt is warm as Mingyu presses his face between your thighs, wrapping his lips around your clit. He tongues at the bud, stimulating you as you fist the sheets under you.

Mingyu can’t count the number of times he’s dreamt of this very scenario. His hands tighten their grip on your thighs as he doubles his efforts. His lips are restless as they play with your clit. Your moans are muffled above Mingyu’s head and they encourage Mingyu to keep going.

He can feel his chin already messy with your slick as he makes out with your cunt. His tongue intermittently darts out, lapping at your entrance. Mingyu’s brain gets more and more muddled as he continues to eat you out, already too lost in pleasure.

Mingyu squeezes his hand between his face and the bed so he can prod his fingertips against your folds. He traces your entrance before finally pushing a finger into you. Your cunt is warm and wet around his finger and he’s able to push a second one in as well.

His mouth doesn’t stop sucking on your clit as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you. His digits drag against your walls, pressing into you, looking for your sweet spot.

As Mingyu fingers you, his hips rut against the mattress, humping the bed to the rhythm of his fingers. His cock is leaking inside of his boxers and he’s relieved to have at least some kind of pressure against him. Mingyu’s letting out soft whines that mix with your own moans.

Your cunt is clenching around Mingyu’s fingers and he pushes a third one into you. His fingers curl into you and you whine, reaching down to pull at Mingyu’s hair. Mingyu knows that he’s found your sweet spot and he continues to abuse the spot, leaving you a mess of moans.

Mingyu’s lips suck hard on your clit, shaking his head back and forth against you. Your body tenses under him as you cry out, your legs shaking as you reach your high. Mingyu helps you through it until you fall limp to the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. 

Mingyu finally pulls his mouth away from you, panting himself as he wipes your slick off his chin. His whole body feels warm from lust. He needs more of you.

“Such a good boy,” you mumble. 

“Take your pants off Mingyu.” The voice startles Mingyu for a moment, before he realizes that Jungkook’s still in the room. When he glances over, his best friend looks the same as earlier, just now rubbing himself through his pants. Mingyu nods and starts to undo his belt, before he’s stopped by your protests.

“Let me help.” You move to stick on your knees, reaching over to undo Mingyu’s belt for him. When the belt is discarded on the floor, you start to work on his jeans. Mingyu can feel his cock twitching desperately as you slowly unzip his pants.

You lean down and start to trail kisses down his happy trail before putting your mouth directly on his bulge through his boxers. While still mouthing at him, you push his jeans down until they’re out of the way. Mingyu’s dick strains against his underwear which are already slightly damp from his precum.

You hook your fingers into Mingyu’s waistband before pulling his boxers down, letting his dick spring completely free from all confines. Mingyu helps you fully remove his clothing before you wrap your hand around his length, pumping slightly.

“Fuck Gyu, it’s so pretty.” You lean down and lick at his slit, collecting his precum in your mouth. “What do you want to do with it? Want it here?” You kiss his tip again. “Or here?” You sit back up and move forward to rub your pussy against his cock.

The idea of your lips wrapping around his cock, choking down his length makes Mingyu feel like a mad man, and under any other circumstances he would jump on the chance, but if he’s being honest he feels like he’s about to burst any minute now and needs to get inside of you.

“T-this one,” Mingyu whines out as you continue to rub his head between your swollen pussy lips.

“Good, I was hoping you’d say that.” You move away from Mingyu, only to lie back down on the bed and spread your legs, inviting Mingyu to come forward.

Your cunt is shiny with your arousal and your pussy lips are swollen from Mingyu eating you out. It’s nothing Mingyu hasn’t seen before, but now seeing it up close and in person has Mingyu mesmerized. He moves forward, hovering over you as his cock rubs up against your folds.

He leans down to suck at one of your tits again, busying his mouth as he lines the tip of his cock up to your entrance. He can feel your slick on his head as he slowly starts to push in. Mingyu whimpers into your chest, his hands clenched on your hips, as he starts to rut into you. His cock stretches out your walls and it takes him a moment to get all the way inside of you.

After a moment he bottoms out, his cock pushed all the way into your tight, warm walls. Mingyu’s never felt something so heavenly in his life. His cock is twitching with excitement as he drools precum into you. Your walls flutter around him as you adjust to his size and Mingyu has to put all his focus on your tits in his mouth so he doesn’t go completely mad at the feeling.

It doesn’t take long for you to start pawing at Mingyu.

“Please move,” you whine. “Need you to fuck me hard.”

Mingyu’s response is muffled against your chest as he pulls his hips back before slamming them back into you. He repeats the action over and over again until he’s thrusting into you in a quick rhythm. You’re panting as you dig your fingers into Mingyu’s shoulders. 

With each thrust Mingyu buries deeper and deeper inside of you. He finally pulls his mouth off your tits to sit up, adjusting his hold on you so he can pound even harder into you. From this new angle Mingyu looks down at you. Your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed, completely lost in your pleasure.

Your tits bounce with each thrust and Mingyu realizes he’s not going to last much longer at this rate. He pushes your legs forward against your chest, spreading your pussy more as he fucks you even harder than  before. Your moans grow frantic as you fist the sheets in your fingers.

“G-gonna cum,” Mingyu mutters. His cock is throbbing, desperately needed to find release.

“D-do it inside,” you whine. “Need your cum in me.”

Mingyu glances over at Jungkook, who’s eyes are still trained on the two of you. He’s stroking his own cock, which is starting to pearl at the tip.

“Don’t make her wait.”

That’s all Mingyu needs before his hips are stuttering inside of you and he’s painting your inside white with his cum. Mingyu’s whole body is coursing with pleasure and he thinks he whites out slightly. When he’s completely come down from his high he pulls out of you, his body slumps down against the bed beside you.

Mingyu takes a moment to recollect himself, trying to clear his mind from his post nut haze. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so good in his life.

When Mingyu opens his eyes again he’s surprised to see Jungkook has moved closer. Jungkook has stuffed himself back into his pants, but the bulge it leaves is still apparent. He stands next to the bed, looming over you as his hand rubs at your pussy. Mingyu watches with awe as his best friend rubs at your clit. Your eyes are closed against as you buck your hips into Jungkook’s touch.

“You made quite the mess,” Jungkook says, addressing Mingyu. Mingyu doesn’t look at him though, his eyes still trained on Jungkook’s hand on your pussy.

Mingyu’s cum is leaking out of your cunt and onto the bed and Jungkook scoops it up with his fingers before pushing it right back inside of you. You gasp but otherwise accept the intrusion. The sight alone makes Mingyu’s cock twitch to life.

“Did her pussy make you feel good, pup?” Jungkook continues. 

And shit well, Mingyu’s never been attracted to his best friend, or any man for that matter, but the sight of Jungkook fingering Mingyu’s cum back into his girlfriend while calling Mingyu a pup definitely makes his cock twitch.

Mingyu watches intently as your body starts to shake, your back arching up off the bed as you whine. Mingyu has watched your videos enough to know what you look like when you’re cumming and he watches as you fall apart on Jungkook’s hand.

Your hand reaches down to grab his wrist, stopping his motions.

“Sensitive,” you mumble. Mingyu just expects you to leave it at that but he’s sorely wrong as he watches you pull Jungkook’s fingers to your mouth, sucking your juices and Mingyu’s seed off of them. You’re making intense eye contact with your boyfriend as you do so, your tongue swirling around the digits, and Mingyu starts to feel like he’s witnessing something way too personal for him to be there.

When Jungkook’s fingers have been thoroughly cleaned by your tongue, you pop your mouth off his hand and start to paw at his pants. You pull him closer, your fingers fumbling with the zipper of his pants as you attempt to strip your boyfriend down.

“Insatiable little thing,” Jungkook smirks as he quells your struggle and frees his cock for you. You don’t waste a moment, leaning forward to wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

Jungkook lets out a low groan and he automatically reaches down to push the back of your head further down onto his cock. Mingyu watches the bob of your head as Jungkook’s dick disappears farther and farther down your throat.

There’s a bit of saliva dripping down your lips, making a mess of both you and Jungkook. The wet sound of your mouth and the slight gag from Jungkook’s length hitting the back of your throat fills the room, making everything seem even more erotic and dirty. Mingyu feels a bit perverted, just laying next to you watching, but a part of him knows that you and Jungkook want him to see this.

This whole experience is new to Mingyu, and he’s taking in every moment that he can. As Sweetheart you never share any part of your face, and there’s a delight that fills Mingyu knowing he’s now the only person besides Jungkook that has seen what you look like with your lips wrapped around a cock, gagging on the length. It’s almost too hot to handle.

From the angle Mingyu’s at he has the perfect view of your pussy. Your lips are spread slightly, still shiny with slick, as you arch your back. Mingyu thinks about you being spit roasted between him and Jungkook. Your mouth working diligently at Jungkook, while your pussy squeezes the life out of Mingyu.

The thought is too good to be true though, and Mingyu embarrassingly still hasn't recovered from his first orgasm. That doesn’t stop Mingyu from imagining it though, staring at your juicy pussy as he does so.

“Fuck,” Mingyu hears Jungkook hiss. He looks up to see Jungkook’s forearms tenses as they grip onto your hair tight, helping you bob your head up and down. His head is tilted back and his eyes are squeezed shut as his hips shallowly thrust into your mouth.

Mingyu’s never been interested in seeing his best friend cum, but in this moment, he can’t take his eyes off of him. It only takes a few more bobs of your head and Jungkook is shuddering as he holds you down against him, your lips at the base of his cock.

When it’s clear Jungkook is finally done spilling into you, he releases his grip on you, allowing you to breathe properly. Your mouth is full of Jungkook’s cum and some of it starts to drip down your chin and fall right onto your tits. You giggle as you scoop it up and put it right back into your mouth.

“Can’t waste a drop, right?” You say to Mingyu, winking at him. “Still doing good there, big boy?”

“Y-yeah,” Mingyu stutters out, his voice hoarse from panting so hard earlier.

“Good, because I’m just feeling sooo empty and I would love if my two handsome boys could fill me up.” You spread your legs again, reaching down to push your puffy folds apart with two fingers. “Would you boys do that for me?”

Mingyu doesn’t understand how you have so much energy after being eaten out, fucked, fingered, and then sucking a dick, but he has to admit it’s incredibly hot and definitely doing it for him.

You move from where you’re laying and you crawl over to Mingyu, straddling his lap and pinning him to the bed. He can feel your heat press up against his cock and you grind down slightly and you lean in to whisper into Mingyu’s ear.

“Will you let me ride you, puppy? Use your fat cock to get myself off?” Your voice is somehow a mix of innocent and sultry at the same time and Mingyu involuntarily bucks his hips up against you. You chuckle slightly. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You lift yourself up off of Mingyu slightly, only to reach down and line his cock up to your pussy. Your folds wrap around his head before you sink down, flushing your hips to his. Mingyu whines, his hands flying up to grip your waist tightly.

Mingyu only pulled out a few minutes ago, and yet he missed the feeling of your pussy around him. Your walls are warm and tight and Mingyu swears you’re clenching down on him on purpose. 

“Mm, you fill me up so nicely,” you moan. You slowly start to bounce in his lap, lifting yourself up and down his cock. Your hands are planted firmly on Mingyu’s chest, using him as leverage. Mingyu pathetically helps guide you up and down, too distracted by how sexy you look like this. 

Your skin is shiny with a light sheen of sweat and what Mingyu also thinks might just be a post-orgasm glow. Your naked body is warm and tantalizing as you roll your hips against Mingyu’s. You’re staring down at him, your eyes trained on Mingyu’s face as you smirk at him. It’s all almost too much for him.

When it’s clear that you’re satisfied with Mingyu, you lean forward, placing your tits right above Mingyu’s head. He can’t help himself, closing the rest of the distance to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. You gasp slightly, reaching down to cup Mingyu’s jaw.

“F-fuck,” you shudder out. “C’mon Kookie. Need you in me too.”

Mingyu can feel Jungkook climb onto the bed, and he’s thankful that you two own such a large bed or he doesn’t think all three of you would fit comfortably. Jungkook positions himself behind you, hovering over Mingyu’s legs.

Mingyu can feel you jolt slightly as Jungkook starts to open you up. You bury your free hand in Mingyu’s hair, tugging slightly. Mingyu doesn’t mind though, in fact he whimpers slightly against your breast.

Mingyu can hear the sound of Jungkook pressing a kiss against your skin before he spits and then a few seconds later you gasp. Mingyu can feel the bulge of Jungkook pressing into you, stuffing your other hole full of his cock.

“S-shit, you feel so good,” you whine. “Baby, please move.”

Your walls move as Jungkook slides out of you, only to slam right back into you. Your body lurches forward slightly, and you tighten your grip on Mingyu. Slowly Jungkook starts to build up his pace, until he’s fucking into you at a steady rhythm. 

Mingyu takes this as his time to start thrusting up into you as well. He does his best to match Jungkook’s pace, as you start to grind down against both of them. Despite being completely composed a few moments ago, you’ve turned into a complete mess with two dicks inside of you. All you can get out is moans and whines and a few noncoherent sentences as you hold onto Mingyu like your life depends on it.

Your back arches as Mingyu tightens his grip on you, doing his best to fuck into you as hard as he can. Your walls are already spasming against him, your body trembling with pleasure. Over your shoulder Mingyu can see Jungkook and he doesn’t think his best friend has ever looked as good as he does right now. His hair is pushed back and his face is completely focused as he stares down at your ass, watching how his and Mingyu’s cocks split you open.

Above him, you bury your face into Mingyu’s neck, deciding to bite and suck at his skin to muffle your moans. Your body is on fire atop of him and Mingyu wraps his arms around your waist to pull you further against him, using the new grip to help his thrusts.

The whole situation seems so erotic, your gorgeous bare body pressed into his as he and his best friend destroy your holes. Mingyu can feel the blood pumping in his cock as his whole body starts to tingle.

“G-gonna cum,” he stutters out. “P-please let me c-cum in you.”

“Me too,” you mumble into his neck. “Fuck, cum all inside me. Fill me up.”

You move your mouth from Mingyu’s neck to his lips. You kiss him desperately, licking into his mouth as you cup his face.

“Go on both of you,” Jungkook finally pipes up, his voice deep and sultry. “Cum.”

Mingyu’s whole body shakes as he lets himself go, spilling right into your waiting pussy. It doesn’t stay there long though, as you quickly lift yourself up off of Mingyu, your legs trembling as a stream of liquid gushes out of you and right onto Mingyu’s lap. You break your mouth off of Mingyu’s so you can moan as you finish squirting.

Behind you, Jungkook is still fucking into you, quick and hard. You can’t hold yourself up anymore though, and you slump against Mingyu. Mingyu’s still out of it as well, and he absentmindedly rubs your back as Jungkook grunts, finishing inside of you as well. 

Jungkook pulls out of you and leans down to kiss the small of your back before walking into the connected bathroom. You press a few more kisses to the corner of Mingyu’s mouth before rolling off of him. Jungkook walks back in with towels and hands one to Mingyu before starting to clean you off.

Mingyu wipes his lower half off before standing up, his legs slightly giving out on him before he gains his footing again. Mingyu feels like he’s moving in slow motion, his brain still slightly fuzzy. 

Mingyu starts to pull his clothes back on as you and Jungkook do the same. Mingyu’s not quite sure what to do as he stands in the corner of the room, watching as Jungkook starts to strip the bed of the sheets. It's a bit weird to see the large bed without the now iconic white sheets on it.

The thought of just slipping out the front door crosses Mingyu’s mind, and he’s heavily considering it, when he feels someone wrap their arms around his waist.

“So, did you have fun?” You ask Mingyu. You’re staring at him with wide eyes and a grin. 

“Y-yeah! Thanks for uh, letting me do this,” Mingyu responds.

“Of course! I’m wasn't joking Mingyu, I do really like you.”

The confession makes Mingyu’s heart flutter. Realistically, he knows that you’re with Jungkook and nothing will happen from this, but it’s still nice to know he’s not a complete fool or being so head over heels for you.

“She’s been talking about this since your little Twitter conversation,” Jungkook says as he walks back into the room from putting the sheets in the washing machine. “I’d be a little jealous if it wasn’t you, Gyu.”

“You know who I also think would really like you?” You ask, shooting Jungkook a mischievous look. “My viewers. They would love you. Don’t you think so Kookie?”

Jungkook just smirks. “You have to ask him first.”

“What about it Gyu? Wanna become a permanent stample on the Sweetheart page?” You hug Mingyu a bit tighter.

The idea drives Mingyu a little wild. Going from watching your content to being in it? Being able to fuck you on a regular basis? 

“I- that sounds…yeah, I would,” Mingyu stutters out and you giggle.

“Yay! Looks like you have a competition Kook,” you smirk at your boyfriend.

“Competition?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Not when it’s Mingyu. I think both of us are going to have lots of fun with him. Won’t we pup?” 

You and Jungkook both send Mingyu matching grins and Mingyu feels the excitement grow in him. Oh yeah, he’s going to have a lot of fun.

taglist: @ckline35 @toruro @jeanjacketjesus @namjoonbaby @n4mj00nvq @lovelyhan @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @im-gemmy @tulipgarland4 @embrace-themagic @sulkygyu @leejihoonownsmyheart @synthetickitsune @yeosayang @miraclewoozi @d0nghyck @soonhoonietrash @yongi-lee @spilled-coffee-cup @morklee02 @17kwans @candidupped @ressonancee @m1nghaos @1-800-jeonwonwoo @anothershorthuman @dinoissupreme @speaknowlwt @hyneyedfiz @aaniag @shamayyyy @moonwalker-witchgrrrl @walkingtravesty97 @jwnghyuns @flwrshwa @valentxi @heavenly-mobo @pandorashbox @enhacolor @starlight-night0 @todorokiskitten @miriamxsworld @just-here-to-read-01 @seuomo @tinkerbell460 @feat-sun @emmmui @bias-recs @luvthatleader-nim

[seonghwaddict]

ateez's favourite petnames for you

requested by anon. genre. hc, fluff. rating. sfw. warnings. petnames (duh), some are more feminine leaning. wc. 734.

lilo's notes. i'm soso sorry this took me so long to get out T-T

masterlist.

hongjoong

darling. the thought of him using that as a pet name makes me go awooga. idk i feel like it would just sound good in his voice, yk? he can be a tease sometimes too, and i feel like this one has the potential to convey his teasing perfectly while still being cute n stuff. like, he's whispering to you, hugging you from behind in the kitchen as you prepare food or something. or he's entering the house, calling out a soft "darling, i'm home!" AHHHH.

honourable mention: love.

seonghwa

angel. PLEASEEEEE idk it just suits him so well. personally i find the thought of any demon line member using this pet name extra scrumptious, but it's something about seonghwa that just does it for me. he has a gentle and warm voice. waking up to him gently nudging your shoulder, needing to leave early in the morning but not wanting to go without telling you, a soft chuckle as you look up at him in confusion, “sleep well, angel?”

honourable mention: bun/bunny.

yunho

tiny. size difference matters quite a bit to him in a relationship, and he loves pointing it out every chance he gets. he’d say this in a more teasing context, when he’s messing around with you or trying to get you to smile—which is all the time, probably. admiring your face late at night, tangled in each other’s limbs in bed, tired but not wanting to fall asleep just yet as he brushes his fingers against your jawline, “you’re so pretty like this, tiny.”

honourable mention: princess.

yeosang

sweetie/sweetheart. he’s a simple guy, really. anything that makes you smile makes him smile. and seeing the way you grinned the first time he called you that—a simple “hey, sweetie, could you come for a second?” that had you giggling and skipping over to him happily—well, it made him never want to stop calling you sweetie or sweetheart, to say the least.

honourable mention: precious.

san

babe. he would so call his s/o babe i can literally hear it idc argue with the wall. normally i’d convulse (negative) if a man called me babe unironically, but shit he can do that all he wants. anyways. he knows you love it when he calls you any sweet pet name, but his personal favourite is this one. it’s so simple, rolls off his tongue so easily. he’d say it so easily too, calling you and saying something along the lines of, “hey, babe, have you eaten yet? i wanna try this new place i found.” YUPPP

honourable mention: my love.

mingi

doll. i’m a mingi calling you doll enthusiast until the day i die. in every fic i’ve written about his he calls mc doll at least once and that’s exactly how it should be. moving on, i just think he would really love calling you that because it elicits the cutest reaction each time; shyly averted eyes, flushed cheeks. sometimes he likes to throw in a little ‘dolly’ to switch things up a bit, to catch you off guard.

honourable mention: (my) pretty/sweet girl.

wooyoung

babydoll. biggest tease of the century, he definitely has a whole arsenal of cheesy pet names to call you when he wants to be particularly annoying (e.g. “aw what are you pouting for, snookums?” “you’re the best, cupcake!” “my my, you are the apple of my eye,” etc.). but on the rare occasions where he’s not playing around, he likes any variation of baby, particularly babydoll. perhaps his adoration for the name was ignited when he first listened to babydoll by dominic fike, and saw how many times you replayed it, but who knows?

honourable mention: jagi (자기 — honey).

jongho

honey. i call this a double entendre. he doesn’t really use pet names much, but he likes this one because 1. it’s cute, it suits you almost as your actual name. this is a name a husband would use and he’s so husband coded it hurts me. and 2. he really is just a silly guy—and considering he’s often described as a bear, well, then it’s quite self explanatory. massaging your shoulders as he stands behind you, sat on the couch and groaning into your hands after a stressful day at work, his voice low and reassuring, “you always do so well, honey, please don’t worry your pretty little head over it more.”

honourable mention: dear.

networks. @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @wonderlandnet @atzhouse

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl

@likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd

@coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf @okdudeiime @jjoongstar

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei ‐ better for you

a/n: a request for anon that definitely took me too long to write T-T i'm terribly sorry for the delay .... also this strangely reminds me of my first ever fic on this account (which was also abt tsukki) so it's kinda silly :33

summary: tsukishima is jealous and not exactly good at hiding it.

warnings: none, pure fluff

tsukishima has been awfully quiet since you arrived at the training camp.

it's not like that was an unusual behavior from him - he was naturally a quiet, introverted person, so anyone with a basic knowledge about his personality would assume it's perfectly normal. but you knew better.

he was your boyfriend, after all. even if quiet and rather reserved, he would continuously taunt you with his snarky comments and witty remarks, almost twice as much as he would his teammates. but for the last two days or so, his demeanor changed; there was something that ticked him off, and, contrary to his beliefs, he was not good at hiding his jealousy.

figuring out the reason behind it was a no-brainer.

tsukishima adjusted his glasses as he observed yet another guy walking up to you, and he could already recite the way this conversation was about to go from memory. he stood next to yamaguchi, back resting on the outer wall of the gym, eyes staring daggers into the fukurodani jersey of the boy trying to hit on you. but of course, he didn't do a thing about it, instead opting for a low, annoyed huff.

you could see him from where you stood, and a sigh left your lips as you saw his eyes dart away from yours the moment they met, the blonde boy wasting no time in walking away to a spot where he wouldn't have to see the situation in front of him.

the boy in front of you, whose name you've found out to be komi, fukurodani's libero, kept on babbling about something, but you've stopped listening a while ago, quickly excusing yourself to follow after your boyfriend.

'wait.' you said, voice just loud enough for tsukishima to stop in his tracks, head turning around to face you, waiting for you to continue what you wanted to say. you caught up with him, eyes squinting a little as you looked up because of the sun positioned right behind his head. 'are you really jealous of all these guys?'

'no.' he rolled his eyes, a classic sign of frustration from him, almost as if he intentionally tried to show you that despite his words, he is indeed annoyed with them.

'i can clearly see that you are.' he didn't answer you this time, silence taking over as he avoided eye contact with you, acting more childish than ever. you couldn't help but smile, hand reaching out for his with a gentle squeeze. 'you know that they could never steal me from you, right?'

silence.

'oh, come on, you're sulking like a five year old baby right now.'

'says the one who acts like a baby all the goddamn time.' his remark made you crack a smile, happy that you got him to talk. 'it's annoying. and it's not like i don't trust you either. it's something different.'

'hm?'

he let go of your hand, taking a few steps forward, the setting sun hitting his face as he stared into the magine in front of him; the hill he had to run up and down at least five times that day, barely noticeable roofs of homes situated not far away.

'don't you think that at least one of them could be, you know.' you already knew what point he was trying to make, and yet hearing it from him made your heart break a little. 'better for you?'

a moment of silence passed, the chirping birds being heard from away.

'no.'

he could hear the sound of your shoes hitting the ground with each step you took towards him, your arms gently wrapping around his torso from behind, face nuzzling into his back.

'look at me, tsukki.' hearing your words, he slowly turned his head around, only to be met with your lips already on his in a sweet, short kiss. 'listen carefully, alright?'

'i'm.' kiss. 'not.' kiss. 'going.' kiss. 'anywhere.'

he couldn't help but smile at your actions, breaking out of his aloof persona for a split second, hand searching for yours to hold it tenderly.

'besides,' you added, lips curving up into a sly smile. 'none of them could give me the same level of sarcasm that i love so much.'

you continued smooching his lips, cheeks, forehead, nose, trying to cover his entire face with kisses.

'alright, alright.' he mumbled quietly, pulling you away as he adjusted his hair. 'don't be so touchy here, though. not that i don't like it, it's just-'

'i knew it!' you recognized the voice behind you immediately, and tsukishima's shocked face only confirmed your suspicions.

'let's leave the lovebirds before kei kills us with his death stare, bokuto.' another familiar voice was heard, and as you turned around, you immediately noticed the spikey black hair and kuroo's tall frame.

as they ran away, shouting a familiar rhyme of 'y/n and tsukki sitting on a tree', you couldn't help but laugh, resting your head on your boyfriend's shoulder. he didn't look half as content as you, lips in a straight line as if he just got caught doing something so utterly embarrassing he would never recover from it.

'if they continue this, everyone will know.' he mumbled, back to his usual, annoyed tone.

'look at the positives, kei.' you nudged him on the shoulder, smiling up at him. 'at least now no one will flirt with me anymore. no more frustrations for you.'

and maybe you were right.

or maybe you weren't, as he found out later, when the information of your relationship got to the ears of his overly excited upperclassmen.

taglist: @moonswolfie @wyrcan @kitsune-kita @haechansbbg @luvvrgirll @serotoninbarbz @sugaraddict301

[wandanatrules]

Hi there!! I saw that you were taking request so I thought I’d put one in! I’m obsessed with a rich/Silver fox Nat x innocent reader. Silver fox Nat is definitely manipulative and possessive and is obsessed with R. Maybe for the fic nat just had a really stressful day and gets home late and needs to take her anger out on R? Maybe g!p too? Up to you!  definitely super kinky

Try To Keep Me

hey idk if this does your request justice, but I hope you enjoy!! not proofread

word count: 1.5k

pairing: CEO silver fox beefy g!p Nat x housewife fem reader

warnings: smut, nat has a penis, cnc, angst, cursing, slapping, arguing, name calling, breeding kink, lactation kink, (let me know if I miss any )

You were done waiting on her. She told you that she was done with the broken promises, and the worst part was that you believed her. When you agreed to be her housewife you thought it would be less cooking, cleaning, housework and more wife.

It seems as though all you do is cook the meals that she demands, yet she never actually eats, do her laundry, clean her house, and be used as her personal fucktoy. She was never like this when you guys were dating. You used to have fun together, she used to look at you with that special twinkle in her eyes, while she held your hands and showered you with praises. You couldn’t remember the last time she even complimented you on something other than your body.

Yet you stayed, it’s not like she didn’t love you, I mean she paid the bills, you never wanted for anything. And the sex. The sex was incredible. She would take you whenever she wanted and it was always hot and passionate. You just wished she would bring romance back into the relationship and make you feel wanted.

You figured Natasha didn’t try anymore because she got too confident that you would never leave. She’s every woman’s dream being a millionaire CEO, who is exceptionally sexy, with her long red hair and the muscular body that she spends hours upholding everyday in the gym. But that didn’t matter to you, you missed the Natasha she was when you were dating, your gentle Natty who would pursue you each and every day, take you on thoughtful dates and cuddle you to sleep every night. You were going to teach her that she needs to put in effort in order to keep you.

”Babe, i’m home.” she says, walking through the front door throwing her stuff to the side, expecting you to pick it up later. “Where are you?” she wondered why you weren’t in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up like you normally were. 

Walking through the house to look for you, she noticed the light was on in the closet of the master bedroom. “What are you doing, babe?” She asked with a furrowed brow as she saw you haphazardly throwing clothes into bags.

”Packing!” You said with a tight lip, pacing around the room trying to get your stuff together.

”Baby, stop! What’s going on? Where do you think you are going?” She said with an amused smirk. 

“What the hell do you think is so funny! Everyday you come in here and treat me like i’m your fucking sex slave that’s just here to please you and be your maid! I am packing my bags and staying with my sister.”, You said while trying to push past her before she grabbed you by your wrist to stop you and turn you to face her. 

“You’re not gonna leave me baby, you know I love you. Daddy is just so stressed out from work, that it’s hard for me to do all the romantic things you love to do.” She says while holding you by the waist. 

“It’s just that I want you to try, there are tons of women that would beg to take me out and buy me flowers, so I think I am going to go find one of them.” You said trying to break away before feeling a harsh sting on your cheek. 

“You are such a slut, any excuse to whore yourself out to everyone. I bet this bag is filled with skimpy thongs and tight dresses for you to escapade around the town in.” She says as she rips the bag out of your hands and grabs both of your hands behind your back and leads you to the bed. 

Pushing you face down on the bed, she rips your house dress down as you try to wriggle from her hold and smiles when she sees that you are without underwear. 

“Look at how pretty you are baby, I can’t believe you thought you were gonna leave me. You are mine, all the panties in that bag are only for me to see. Do you understand!” She says as she harshly slaps your ass. “You know maybe if I fill you up and make you pregnant you’ll be happier with my long hours, having someone to keep you company. 

“Come here.”, She says pulling you up into all fours, before swiping her fingers through your pussy. “You’re so wet for me baby. Is the thought of me getting you pregnant turning you on?” 

“Yes daddy. Please fuck me, i’m sorry.”, You said while humping back into her trying to reach back and unbutton her dress slacks. 

She swats your hands and moves to unbutton her pants and pull them along with her underwear down and tosses them across the room. Her 9 inch length pops out and hits your cunt and starts to harden, she then begins to jerk herself off in order to fully harden. 

Before slipping in she spreads your ass with hands on both cheeks and licks all throughout your cunt, up and down taking your clit between her teeth. “My goodness baby, I can never get over how good you taste.”, She says after pulling away and planting kisses all over your ass and cunt, licking and sucking on the skin of your cheeks in order to leave bruises. 

“God baby you make me so hard I just have to fuck you.”, She says after pulling away from your ass and lining her cock up with your entrance. With one strong thrust she bottoms out causing you to yelp. Picking up the pace, she grips your hips and with a steady speed she continues to ram into you from behind.

“Oh Natty, please it feels so good. You fuck me so well, I can’t take it i’m gonna cum.”, You say humping back onto her trying to match her pace. 

“Oh not yet baby, you better hold it until I fill you up with my kids.” She husked into your ear, while reaching down to play with your clit. That combined with the unmatched stamina she has from her daily workouts, is making it impossible to hold out.

”Please, please, please, Nat please I’m gonna cum!” 

“Okay baby, don’t worry I got you. I’m right there with you, so cum when you’re ready.” She grunts out in your ear while violently ramming into you trying to catch her high. “Uhh, there you go. Take it all, baby take all my cum.” She releases her load into your cunt, causing you to come right after her. Pulling out she flips you over and pushes you onto your back, fingering the oozing cum back into you to make sure it sticks. 

Pulling her fingers out of your cunt, she licks them and then kisses up your body. Starting between your thighs, she kisses a trail up your stomach, stopping when reaching your chest. “You’re gonna look so sexy as the mother of my children.”, She says while pulling your nipple into her hot mouth, sucking and taking the other one between her skilled fingers, pulling and twisting. “I can’t wait for these tits to be filled with your sweet milk, for me to drink.”

“You know you can’t just fuck me and expect me to forget what i’m upset about!”, You say in between moans as she continues her assault on your boobs.

”Okay, yeah you’re right baby. Tell me, what were you upset about?”, She says, lifting her head from your breasts, looking face to face, with a smirk. 

“No, i’m being serious. Of course I want us to have kids, but I don’t want to feel like a single mother. I want a wife that cares about her kids and spends family time with them and her wife. Please, Nat, I hate that I have to beg you to romance me and make me feel like I mean something to you!” You sit up and cover yourself with the blanket, while you wait for her to reply.

“Yes I understand baby, come here.” She says while pulling you into her lap. “I know i’m not the most present with you, and it seems like I only care about your body when I am stressed out from work, but I don’t. You are the love of my life, and I couldn’t live without you. I am so sorry that I have been so lousy at showing you that. I promise that I will try everyday to show you how much you mean to me and how much I need you. I don’t even know what I was thinking, not treating you like the goddess you are.” She said, grabbing you by the face and placing a kiss on your mouth. 

You move to straddle her hips and grind down on her length, “Okay, baby if that’s how you feel I think we should keep going if we are gonna start trying to have a family.”, You say, leaning in to kiss her again.

[coco-loco-nut]

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

----------------

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

[purinfelix]

yes Ollie fics I BEGGG🙏🏻🙏🏻

sweet as sugar ⟡ ݁₊ . - ollie bearman

summary: it isn't everyday you see a classmate shopping at the grocery store you work at, especially not when he's buying the most expensive ingredients possible. w/c: 3.4k

a/n: your wish is my command !!! been binging the bear necessities vlogs so i felt verrrryyy inspired for this one (also bc i recently started a second job as a checkout chick HAHA)

Working at a grocery store was far from glamorous - but given that it was close to your university, you figured it was definitely far from the worst part-time job you could've taken up. In between stocking shelves and dealing with rude customers, it hadn't been too bad, and that was the reason you had stayed for over a year.

In that time, you had seen your fair share of things. Given that the dorms were so close by, it wasn't uncommon for you to recognise people from class. Often they were polite enough to start up some small talk or ignore you completely, leaving with several bags of instant ramen and frozen garlic bread, more than enough to last them the week.

But this, this was new.

"Oh, hi," he lets out, polite and a little shy as he piles his groceries onto your conveyer belt.

"Hey," you let out, a little drawn out to show your confusion at the multi-coloured produce headed towards you. You spot a couple radishes, a whole head of cabbage and several jars of spice amongst everything else. "Do you have your own bags?"

"Oh, yeah," he mumbles, reaching into his back pocket and producing several reusable bags, most of them from your grocery store chain - you find it a little cute, though you don't say anything.

"I think I've seen you around, you know," he says quickly, refusing to acknowledge the elephant in the room as he positions the bags. You drag your focus away from the items you're scanning and study his face instead - he's tall but boyish, and his eyes are round and innocent as he looks at you.

"Right, Professor Royce's class, stats right?"

His expression lights up, almost out of relief at you not asking about the groceries. "Yeah! It's tough, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and he marks really strict as well, a friend of mine got a quarter mark taken off because her power wasn't written high enough."

"Jeez, that's rough," he laughs, and his eyes flicker between yours and your hands as you bag the last of his things.

"Your total will be $75.80," you announce, pulling a face to show that you don't envy how much he's going to have to pay - but to your surprise, his expression doesn't falter as he reaches for his wallet, pulls out his credit card and taps it without another word.

"Thanks, see you around," he smiles, as he takes his several bags with ease and leaves, the automatic doors closing behind him. You find yourself watching him, gaze lingering as his lean figure grows smaller and smaller in the direction of the dorms. What could he possibly be using that kind of food for, how many people was he planning on feeding - and most importantly, what sort of dorm fridge would fit all that?

You hear an annoyed grunt from in front of you as you're once reminded of your job, turning to face a stern-looking woman. "Sorry ma'am," you let out, beginning to scan her items - though your mind doesn't leave him, not for a while.

Given how much he had bought, you didn't think you'd run into your classmate at your job for a while. To your surprise though, it's less than a week until you see him again, and for about a month he continues showing up weekly - and as fate would have it, always when you were on shift and at your register.

What's even weirder though, is the fact that the two of you barely make it beyond awkward small talk about the singular class you share in common or the weather lately. Still, you manage to glean some information - his name (Ollie), his major (marketing) amongst other, smaller, details like the fact that he normally comes in the mornings to get the freshly baked loaves of bread, or that he has an unusually large collection of reusable grocery bags.

For the most part, you don't mind, working at a grocery store register has made you vulnerable to over a year of awkward conversations. What seems to actually get to you though, is the gnawing curiosity of just what on earth he could be using all this for because, at the rate you see him, he can't be the only one eating it.

You're busy pondering this thought, mindlessly stocking shelves mere minutes before closing one night - until you notice a familiarly lanky figure creep up behind you.

"Oh!" you gasp out in surprise, but when you spot the full grocery basket in his hand you dart quickly behind the register to help him. For a minute it seems like your opportunity to get to the bottom of this mystery has reared its head.

However, from the awkward smile he gives you in greeting and the way he nervously shoves his hands in his pockets while he scoots up to your register - you're inclined to just mind your own business and leave the poor boy alone. That is until you break eye contact with him and turn to the items now moving towards you.

He seems to have replaced his normal fresh produce and meat for dessert ingredients, and you watch as several bars of dark chocolate - the most expensive brand your store carries, at that - cartons of eggs and sacks of flour make their way towards you.

"Okay Ollie I'm sorry, but I have to ask," you hold your hands out as you preface your question, "What on earth do you do with all this stuff?"

"Oh, I mean, a boy's gotta eat right?" He laughs shyly, causing you to furrow your brows to show your doubt.

"I don't mean to judge but, surely that's a lie."

He looks almost disappointed at the fact that you don't believe his obviously made-up excuse, as he looks down at his feet to avoid eye contact.

“Well, you see,” he starts, and you can hear the squeaking sound of his sneakers against the store floor. “It’s sort of embarrassing.” 

“C’mon, it can’t be that bad,” you reply, waiting for him to hit you with it, only to be met with a moment of silence as the two of you just stand there, even the conveyor belt refusing to move. 

“What, you cooking for a roster of girls every night?” You joke, desperate to diffuse the suffocating silence. 

“Wh- no!” he replies immediately, hands springing up in defence, causing you to let out a low laugh. 

“Well?” 

He takes a step closer to the register, looking around as if to make sure no one will eavesdrop - despite the two of you being the only ones in the store - before whispering to you. “I’m an influencer, like, a cooking influencer. 

You hear yourself let out a shocked laugh, and Ollie’s eyes widen in response as his cheeks burn up. 

“Sorry, that sounded mean, but that’s actually really cool!” you blurt out. 

“Oh,” he laughs in relief, “I mean it’s not that cool.” He shuffles around awkwardly to help you bag his groceries, though you’re pretty sure he’s just eager to avoid eye contact. 

“Home come I’ve never heard of you before?” 

“Well, I keep it anonymous,” he sighs, “not many people in real life know.” 

“Wow, you’re a proper Peter Parker.” 

“Yeah, if his superpower was stuffing up puff pastry for the third time.” 

“$32,” you read out his total, pausing before following up, “you know, I don’t know if I completely believe you.” 

“Wh- why would I lie?” he asks as he taps his card. 

“I don’t know, to hide the fact that you’re actually cooking for a never ending rotation of girlfriends.” 

“Oh please, I wish that was the case,” you quirk your eyebrow at his response, showing just how much you’re struggling to believe him. As he loops his arms through the several grocery bags, he catches sight of your expression. 

“Wh- look me up then!” 

“Alright, what’s your username,” you say, whipping out your phone. 

He seems to regret his words, his voice immediately shrinking to a shy tone, “promise you won’t make fun of it.” 

“Just tell me Ollie.” 

“It’s, @ bear in the kitchen.” 

You have to fold your lips together to stop yourself from letting out a laugh as you type the user into your search bar. However, once it pops up your eyes widen in shock instantly.

“Ten thousand followers? Ollie, holy shit!” He lets out a little chuckle as you continue to scroll through his posts. “God this stuff looks amazing.” 

“Alright, just don’t tell anyone about it okay? I don’t need this spreading around,” he sighs nervously. 

Lowering your phone, you feel an idea coming to you, “well what’s in it for me?” 

Once again, you watch his brows rise in shock as he chews on his bottom lip, thinking. You’re about to break the silence to tell him you’re only kidding, and that of course you wouldn’t tell anyone and that it’s totally f-

“What time do you get off?” 

“Wh- in about five minutes?” 

“Do you want to come watch?” 

“Watch what?” 

“Me cook, duh,” he says, making it seem like you’re the one being crazy here. 

“Huh?” 

“I live in the dorms so it isn’t too far and you could even try some of it if you want, unless you’ve got something on after this that is.” 

“I mean, not really.” 

“Great, then, help me with these will you?” 

So that’s how you ended up closing up a little earlier, and then helping your classmate Ollie - who a couple weeks ago had been little more than a stranger - carry his ingredients back to his dorm. If you had told anyone that, they probably would’ve called you crazy, and you would’ve agreed. But still, no matter how many times you tried to wake yourself up from this strange dream, you were still there - closing the store, in the elevator with him, even watching as he struggled to use his keys to open his dorm. 

“I got lucky with the dorm lottery this year,” he explained as he finally managed to get the door unlocked, “I think it’s supposed to be for special accomodation students but no one took it so, I figured I would.” 

“Woah,” was all you could say as he ushered you in and shut the door quickly behind you. And woah was correct, given that his 'room' was the size of a small apartment, and much much bigger than any of the other shoeboxes most students got. Aside from the usual bed and desk, he also had his own small lounge room and bathroom - and of course, a kitchenette, which you recognised from the background of his videos. "Lucky is an understatement."

All he does is let out a low laugh in response as he lifts the grocery bags onto the counter, prompting you to do the same. "Do you want my help?" you ask.

"No, I mean you're my guest if anything, so you can just pull up a chair and watch," he offers you a warm smile before turning to unload the bags, stuffing condiments into cupboards and tossing things into the fridge. You do as he says, finding yourself a stool and scooting it over to the counter so you can watch him.

You're amazed, obviously by the fact that someone as unexpected as a boy from your statistics class has a cooking page, but more so by the nature of his movements. After setting up his phone on a small tripod and clicking record, he falls into a rhythm that's mesmerisingly beautiful to watch. Every grab of a bowl or flick of his wrist as he whisks this and stirs that, like a conductor bringing together a symphony.

You don't realise how long you've been silent until he looks up at you, almost as if to silently ask if you have any questions, all the while he's separating a couple egg yolks from their whites.

"So, what exactly are you making?"

"Mille-feuille," he responds.

"Milly- huh?"

He laughs softly at your attempt to mirror his pronunciation. "It's a French dessert, basically just puff pastry with some cream but it's a pain to make."

"So why are you making it?"

"Well, it's fun, I guess? It's nice to challenge myself to do things, even if it takes me a while, the satisfaction of mastering it is really like nothing else." He turns to you, a slight sparkle in his eye and you're taken aback by the pure passion in the way he talks.

"Wow, you really enjoy this, why are you studying at university then? Why not do this full-time as a chef or something?"

"Don't be silly, this is just like a hobby there's no way I could make it a job."

"Ten thousand people seem to say otherwise," you say, and as he pulls a couple things out of the oven and places them on the counter he turns to look at you with an expression that's equal parts confused and surprised. "Well, ten thousand people plus me."

He smiles earnestly, though you can tell you've made him a little shy by the way his cheeks are flushed. "Well, you haven't even tried it yet."

"You're right, how much longer?"

"Maybe another five minutes, why do you need to go?" His expression morphs into one of worry, almost as if he's pleading you not to leave.

"No," you laugh, "I'm fine to stay for as long as you want me to."

"Okay, good, I just," he says, searching for an excuse, "I just want you to taste it before you go."

"Right," you hum, looking around his dorm, or more his apartment complex. "If I had a space as big as this I'd probably throw a party every second night."

"Oh nah, parties aren't really my thing." You watch as he looks down shyly and for the first time, you notice the way the dim kitchen lights illuminate his soft brown curls.

You notice that the only thing separating the two of you is a couple inches of marble countertop and that this is the longest conversation you've had with him, ever. You notice, when his brown eyes rise to meet yours, that the bashful smile spread across his face makes your heart rate quicken a bit more - and for the couple of seconds you're able to hold eye contact with him, you're thinking about how oddly intimate this moment is.

A loud ringing sound brings you back to the current moment - the timer that Ollie set a couple minutes ago signalling that his dish is ready to plate. You straighten up on your stool, eyes darting around as the boy across from you hurries to take out a plate. You pull out your phone, just to have something to do with your hands, but as you do you hear a couple soft groans coming from Ollie's direction.

"Hey," you hear his timid tone call out to you, "could you help me?"

Hopping off of your stool, you pad your way over to where he's bent at an awkward angle, trying his best to hold a broken sheet of puff pastry together.

"Just put your hands where mine are," he instructs you, and you do as he says, allowing him to let out a sigh of relief as he reaches for a piping bag. As he does, you notice the phone camera pointed directly towards you.

"Won't I be in your shot?" you ask nervously.

"Don't worry, your face won't be in it and I can edit it out if you want," he brushes you off, clearly more concerned with the structural integrity of his dessert.

"Oh, right."

"Wait, just-" his voice is just above a whisper and before you realise what's happening you feel his warm touch on yours as he nudges your hands slightly into position. You try not to overthink the fact that his touch alone makes you feel so flustered that you almost drop the pastry. "Okay, hold still."

"Yes, chef," you joke in as serious a tone as you can, trying to alleviate the suddenly intimate tension between you two. You watch silently as he pipes a couple of dollops of custard onto the pastry then nudges you once more to let you know you can let go as he reaches for the last piece of pastry to place on top.

The two of you stand back, and you hear him let out a proud huff as he rests his hands on his hips. "Finally," he breathes, reaching into a drawer to retrieve a spoon.

As you watch him break apart the pastry he spent the last hour trying to perfect, you catch the tender smile he gives you and feel your heart warm at the fact that he seems so different to the awkward, shy boy you first served a couple weeks ago. The image of your classmate, who you only ever saw shuffling out of class as soon as possible, melts away as Ollie confidently scoops some of the custard onto the spoon.

You wait for him to bring it to his own lips, but instead watch it take a turn towards you, his eyes catching yours.

"Here," he smiles, "a payment for your help."

"Wh-" You're taken aback, partially by him not wanting to taste his own food first, but mostly by the fact that he seems to be insisting on feeding it to you. Obediently, you open your mouth and he feeds you the dessert, other hand cupping your chin to catch any crumbs that fall - and you can only hope he doesn't feel how hot your face gets when he does.

"Holy shit Ollie, that's delicious!" You exclaim, watching as his eyes survey your expression.

"Really? That's a relief then," he laughs, taking his own serving of the dessert, nodding thoughtfully as he tastes it. For the thousandth time that night, the two of you stand in silence, just looking at each other - though it's less awkward than you thought and more comfortable.

Until you see your phone on the countertop buzz awake and you catch sight of the time.

"Oh crap, it's past midnight!" you gasp, reaching for it and sending a text back to your roommate, who's probably wondering where you are.

"Do you need to get back?" Ollie asks, brows furrowed.

"Yes, I'm sorry, and thank you for all this it really was amazing-" you ramble out as you try your best to shove your feet into your shoes by the doorway. He seems a little lost by your sudden movements, dropping the spoon and padding his way over to you.

"Do you need me to walk you home?"

"No, no it's fine, I'm just in the next building and you should probably get to cleaning up all this anyways," you gesture to the small mess of used pans and bowls waiting for him in the kitchen behind.

"Right," you catch a tinge of disappointment in his tone, "well get home safe okay?"

"I will," you insist, letting out small grunts as you finally manage to get your second shoe on, "oh, and send me the video you post about this, I want to see my cameo!"

He laughs, "of course."

You're just about to reach for the doorknob and bid him farewell when you hear his voice pipe up again, a little less sure this time.

"Oh and hey, do you think you'd want to do this again?"

"Come over and watch you cook?" You're a little confused by his request since you were sure you had just been in his way all night.

"Yeah, I mean it's nice to have someone keep me company, and help me out when I need it," his hand rubs the back of his nape as he looks at the floor.

"Sure, I'd love to Ollie, you know where to find me anyways."

"Checkout number 4," he laughs, "goodnight."

"Goodnight Ollie," you respond with a smile and a wave before opening his dorm door and leaving.

It's only once you're out in the night air, frantically rushing from his building to yours - that you notice the smile hasn't left your face.

(and as a little something extra, a mockup of ollie's account :)) )

taglist: reply/send an ask to be added!

@multifan-idk @presleycaudle @hadesnumber1daughter @monbear38

[comic-sans-chan]

Fic I'll never write where Dukat decides the biennial Cardassian Festival of Whatever the Fuck (it is never actually specified) should be hosted on Deep Space Nine as a way of bridging the gap between the Cardassian and Bajoran peoples. Sisko and Kira are both Ehhhh about it, but Dukat is obnoxiously persistent until finally the Bajoran government and Federation higher ups are like “K”, on the condition that no Cardassian military (or Order) personnel be allowed. All security for the event will be handled by Odo and Starfleet. Dukat is suspiciously cool with this, which puts everyone on alert, but soon Cardassian vendors and decorators start showing up and they turn out to be pretty chill people, so they let it happen.

While the preparations for the festival are underway, another operation has started. A motherfucker from Garak's past is doing typical motherfucker things on the station. One of these things is scouting Garak's quarters, learning the layout, tracking Garak's routine. It becomes clear very quickly that the rapidly increasing number of Cardassians on DS9 is putting Garak on edge, though, because he seems to be fiddling more with his security protocols, so the motherfucker realizes they need to make their move and they need to make it fast.

They succeed. Sort of. With the circumstances as they are, they had to get a little... creative, but it should do the trick.

By early next morning, every PADD, screen, and computer system on the station is streaming seventy-two different poems on a constant loop. Love poems. Ardent, anguished, often utterly indecent love poems, all with the central theme of being about one Doctor Julian Bashir.

Quark is one of the first to notice the problem, being the type of asshole who opens early despite this only increasing his bottom line by a fraction of a fraction. At first, he's furious that his systems have been tampered with, but after reading a few lines of what his normal menu and advertisements have been replaced with, he's laughing, and by the end of the third poem, he's on the floor.

"Odo!" he shouts, banging on the bastard's door twenty minutes later. "Odo, open up! We've got a problem!"

Odo slinks under the door and slips up between it and Quark's pounding fist with a glare. "Quark! I'm not on duty for another hour. What could possibly be so urgent?"

Quark's sharp little rat teeth are splitting his face clean in half as he holds up the PADD. "Take a look."

Odo scrolls through a couple poems, then squints and scrolls through several more. "Erotic love poetry? I didn't peg you for the type."

"To like erotica? Hoo, I thought you paid better attention than that, Constable."

Odo returns the PADD with a dry expression. "To read."

"Oh, you're hilarious." He taps Odo's chest with the PADD. "The whole station is filled with this stuff. My bar, the Replimat, the Celestial Cafe, the promenade. Someone's either desperate to make a statement, or we've been sabatoged."

Dramatic sci-fi music swells and we get a close-up of Odo’s eerily hairless face and nasal cavity.

The next few hours are dedicated to trying and failing to seize back the servers and briefing the bridge staff on the situation.

"Are we sure these are all about Doctor Bashir?" Sisko's voice booms across Ops. He's on his second cup of coffee and a pile of useless PADDs lay beside him.

Julian has remained stoic throughout the discussion and he remains so now, avoiding eye contact with anyone who's smiling a little too wide. Like Jadzia. "Oh, definitely," she says. "He's mentioned by name in three of them, and several others make a point of highlighting the subject's 'golden sand dune skin', 'aristocratic' features, and 'voice that never stops singing.' Sounds like Julian to me."

A few snickers break out, but Sisko is taking the matter seriously. Thank fuck, Julian thinks. It actually looks like it's giving him a headache, which would make two of them if Julian was capable of having headaches. The captain's rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "And the source..."

"There's a clear data trail back to Garak's quarters. Whoever did this, they wanted us to know where it came from," Kira reports. A muscle jumps in Julian's cheek.

"I tracked Garak down for his statement on the issue," Odo says, gruff, "and he told me he had nothing to do with the virus. In fact, he denied ever having laid eyes on the poems in his life. He's claiming he's been framed." He rolls his eyes.

"Okay," Jadzia says, "we all agree he's lying, right?"

"But which part..."

"Oh, they're Garak's. I've read enough Lloja of Prim to be familiar with traditional Kardasi meter and syntax, and that isn't even going into all the parallels drawn between our doctor and Prime. Sand, heat, rainforests. Bit of Romulan imagery in there, too, if I'm not mistaken. A lot of flowers and vines. Wasn't Garak a gardener?"

"I see no reason why anyone would want to embarass themselves like this," O'Brien cuts in before Jadzia can make it worse. "Even if he is trying to distract us or something, this seems counterproductive in the long term. Everyone’s watching him now, not just us. The rumor mill is running rampant. Not exactly a spy’s MO."

"He did blow up his shop once."

"Because someone was trying to kill him," Julian pipes up for the first time, looking concerned. "Do you think this might be another cry for help?"

"Oh, it's a cry for something," Jadzia quips, and Julian shuts the fuck up.

"Dax," Sisko snaps, like the good benevolent Wormhole Alien Jesus he is, and Dax shuts the fuck up, too. Sisko gives them all the stink eye. "Constable, you're nearly as familiar with Garak as the doctor is," he says, and holds a hand up before any jokes can be made. "What do you think?"

"I don't think he's behind this, sir. None of the pieces add up, and he seemed genuinely agitated when I spoke to him, in his way. At present, I believe he is as much a victim here as the rest of us."

Sisko sighs. "All right. Do we have any idea who is behind this?"

The room is silent for a time, before Odo reluctantly answers for everyone, "Not yet, sir."

"Find out," Sisko demands, "and Chief, get these damn poems off of my reports. Dismissed."

Julian is out of the room before anyone else has stood up.

The rest of the day is spent ducking in and out of his office, only treating those who ask for him by name and keeping all conversations strictly professional. Any mentions of poetry, the festival, Cardassians, or Garak are firmly sidelined, and on a couple occasions, rewarded with a none-too-gentle hypo. He skips lunch altogether and extends his shift by two hours to avoid the dinner rush.

By the time he's leaving the Infirmary, it's late. Unfortunately for him, not late enough that the halls aren't still speckled with observers to his personal soap opera. With the Festival of Frank’s Hot Dogs less than a week away, DS9 is becoming increasingly crowded with tourists, mostly Cardassian, but a surprising amount Bajoran, too–apparently this festival was a rare bright point during the Occupation, when their oppressors were not only lenient with them for once, but generous with food and drink and freedoms. It doesn't hurt that the only Cardassians on board are civilian rather than military, so the atmosphere is rather more colorful, courteous and conversational rather than cold, dark and aggressive. It would make Julian smile if he wasn't so busy being gawked at.

"I don't see it," one Cardassian man grumbles and Julian's accursed augmented ears pick up. "He's even smoother than a Bajoran."

"Oh, yeah," his companion replies, "just think of how easily he'd slide around."

"Tanett!"

"Oh, hush, Grandpa. You're just xenophobic. He's cute."

"Well, you be careful who hears you say that. That Garak fellow is in the Order, you know. Ears everywhere. You don't want to know what things a man like that is capable of."

"Wasn't he exiled? Hardly intimidating now. Apparently all he's capable of anymore is whimpering over an alien like a pakrela."

Julian covers his ears and walks faster.

But that just brings him within range of a cluster of Bajorans. "Oh, there's the doctor now," one is saying, up on the balcony. 

"The one the Cardassian tailor wrote about?"

"That poor fool. He thought they were friends, but here this whole time it was perverse. I can only imagine how much that hurts."

"Happened to my friend once. He thought a glinn was being kind because he was having a crisis of conscience and wanted to help him escape. No, he just wanted to–"

He could go to his quarters, but a flash of memory - Garak's bright eyes at the end of his bed, his figure encased in shadow - sends him in the opposite direction. Before long, he finds himself on an oft-unused Observation deck, since it offers no view of the wormhole or either Bajor or Cardassia's suns. It's blessedly empty, as usual, and Julian settles on a bench and stares into the dark nothingness of space for a long time.

At some point, he finds that his hand has retrieved the PADD from his medical bag, and the screen is lit up automatically with the first poem.

He reads well into the night.

—

The next morning finds Garak with a tall glass of rokassa juice and two eggs, staring intensely into a mysteriously operational PADD at the far end of Quark's bar. Quark pops out of his backroom like a jack-in-the-box.

"Ha! Well, if it isn't the man of the hour himself, gracing my fine establishment so soon after nearly destroying it. Do you know I've had to have menus printed, like we're in the dark ages? Do you have any idea how extensive my menu is? I ought to sue you for damages." He catches a glimpse of the PADD's screen and its decidedly unpoetic contents. "Hey, you fixed it? How?"

"It was just a simple virus. Viruses can be purged," Garak says without looking up. He barely seems aware of Quark's existence.

When no other words are forthcoming, Quark huffs. "Well, can you purge it from the rest of the station, then?"

"I gave the program to the Chief last night."

"And he didn't immediately come here to fix my bar? I'll have to file a complaint.”

Garak offers no reply. Just continues to stare into his PADD.

There are other customers he could be seeing to, but Quark can't pass up this golden opportunity. He's known Garak a long time and known of him even longer, and now that he has the guy's guts all neatly lined up on several dozen isolinear rods, he's never felt closer to the man. He makes a point of knowing things about his customers, but before yesterday, the most he knew about Garak was that he was an assassin, a tailor, a mean, weepy drunk, and friends with Bashir, Odo, and a smattering of other shopkeepers. That was it. But now...

He leans over the counter, closer to Garak's unblinking face. "You know," he says, with a smile rising slow on his cheeks, "if it's humans you like, I have a couple holosuite programs that might be just what you need."

Garak's gaze ascends as if on a motor, smooth and mechanical.

Good. He’s considering the bait. Now he just has to get him to bite. "All completely customizable. Skin, eyes, hair. You like long legs, they've got long legs. Scrawny, they're scrawny. Whatever you want. Although if you're really hung up on the one face, that can also be arranged. For the right price." When Garak just looks at him, Quark switches tactics. "Or maybe it's the uniform that does it for you? I've got 'em, but I'd suggest something out of my lingerie databases. I've still got some little Cardassian numbers filed away that I think even a man with your discerning tastes could appreciate. Just imagine, Doctor Bashir in a–"

He doesn't see the hand coming until it's already crushing his windpipe. Quark claws at it for several long, desperate moments while Garak continues to look.

Leeta scuttling over and yanking him away is what ultimately puts a stop to it, and it's while Quark is gasping in dramatic bursts of air that Leeta says in a rush, "Garak, please! Whatever he said, he didn't mean it!"

"Oh, I meant it," Quark coughs out with a high, strangled laugh, "he just didn't like it."

"Whatever conclusions you've drawn in the last twenty-six hours, allow me to dispel them," Garak says primly, as if he hadn't almost committed murder in broad daylight. "I am not a xenophile and I do not have feelings for Doctor Bashir. There are no less than two-hundred Cardassians currently aboard the station, and I assure you, none of them like me. Those poems were obviously planted."

Oh, but Quark is a little pissed now, unwise as that is. "Please, Garak," he says, "who has time to write that many poems about Julian just to mess with you? Two or three, maybe, but over seventy? If you're going to lie, at least don't insult our intelligence."

Garak's eyes flash and Quark ducks behind Leeta, repentant. Leeta sighs. "Garak, what's so bad about loving Julian?" she asks softly. "I thought the poems were really touching. It’s sweet how much you care for him."

But he's already staring into his PADD again. "I'm sorry, Miss Leeta, but I am a bit busy. Perhaps we can discuss my hypothetical feelings for your paramour another time."

"Julian and I have never been serious," she tries to assure him, but he's engrossed again, or at least pretending to be. Her and Quark share a look and leave him to it. Lesson learned.

"Let the bastard be pent up and miserable, then," Quark grumbles from the other end of the bar as he pours Table 3's drinks. A prickle on his neck has him looking up and there Garak's eyes are again, piercing, and Quark rushes off to deliver the drinks.

The three young Cardassians there are much more friendly. One has their nose stuck in one of the useless poetry PADDs while the other two smile at Quark while he sets out their orders.

"Three Raktajinos, extra bitter," Quark says, and is thanked. Polite. One even praises the drink's exoticness. Klingon coffee, exotic. Heh. "Your food will be out in a few."

Before he can finish turning, though, a hand is touching his arm. "What is the title of this anthology you include at every table?" the young man asks.

"Oh, that's not..." He sighs. "It's new. I can't remember."

"Find out for us, please," he says. "Works like these can be hard to come by on Prime and we make it our business to collect them. Whoever this author is, they're very unique."

"If these aren't banned on Prime already, they will be soon," his friend comments with a giggle.

"No doubt."

"'In my desolation, I am as weeds: Cut my roots and Let the waters take me, To drown and bloom anew, in You,'" the one with her nose in the PADD reads aloud, and shivers. "They'd burn the whole Central Archive down just for this one. It's so explicit."

"Let me see that," the boy demands, as the other one is already surging over to read over the girl's shoulder. Watching them fight over the PADD has Quark thinking back to the isolinear rods in his safe, and he hums thoughtfully, glancing over his shoulder.

Garak isn't looking.

—

Glinn Halon Duvur. Former underling of Gul Dukat. Out of uniform, vacationing on Deep Space Nine with his wife and nine children. Spends his days gambling while his kids play unsupervised in the holosuites and his wife visits old friends. 

Beloved uncle sent to trial by the Obsidian Order in 2356 and executed that same day for crimes of attempted sabotage against Cardassia.

Garak watches the man wander down the promenade sans his proud lineage, jingling a fat little bag of gold-pressed latinum and yet-unconverted leks. He wanders out of range, so Garak switches to the next camera and there that unfortunate face is again. He drums his fingers on the desk. It won't be long now.

An alert rings in his ear and he almost initiates the shockfield on impulse, but the flash of smooth, brown skin on a monitor stays his hand. The knocking comes, and that haunting voice calls out, "Garak! Are you there?"

Garak rests his head next to the surveillance screens.

Predictably, the doctor tries to input his override, but the door remains shut. There's a long pause.

"Garak..." Julian sounds irate. Garak hums. "Did you deprogram my override code? Nevermind how illegal that is, that's dangerous! What if you're injured? Or fall ill?"

He says this just after attempting to abuse his station privileges for personal reasons. Infuriating hypocrite.

"Oh, my barging in at random, odd hours is no less than you deserve, Garak," Julian says as if in response to Garak's thoughts. "You set that precedent in our relationship yourself."

Terrible man.

"Fine. I'll give you some more time, since you want it so badly, but I'll be back and when I am, that override had better work. If it doesn’t, I promise there will be hell to pay, my friend."

Beautiful man.

"Goodbye, Mr. Garak."

Goodbye, Doctor.

Glinn Duvur dies two hours later of alcohol poisoning while his wife is in bed with Gul Rilimn's wife.

—

“I just can’t believe it,” Kira is bitching. Jadzia smiles and sips her drink, looking out over the Replimat balcony at all the happy brunchgoers. “A Cardassian writing poetry about something that isn’t conquest or the wonders of dictatorial rule or, at best, the pride of the traditional family nobly bowing and scraping. I’ve never seen it.”

“It would certainly seem to run counter to Cardassian values.”

“And about Julian!” she shrieks in her inside voice, slapping her hands down on the table. “Garak the spy, writing love poetry about Julian. Going on and on about his–his...”

“Ass?” Jadzia offers.

“Eyes. His eyes! Ohhh, I knew he wanted to have sex with him, everyone knew that, but to write about his eyes like... like that? It’s practically Bajoran.”

“That’s true.”

Kira stops long enough in her tirade to eye her, and presses her lips into a thin line. “How are you so calm about this?”

Jadzia takes another sip. “I’m just fascinated,” she says. “I’ll admit, I’ve been looking at this more through Tobin’s eyes than my own. Have I ever told you that he met Lloja of Prim during his exile?” 

“He did not.”

“He did, and Lloja flirted with him outrageously. It was embarrassing, looking back. Of course, nothing ever came of it, because Tobin was always hopelessly blind to those sorts of things even without the language barrier, but his children liked to joke that many of Lloja’s poems were about him.”

Kira’s jaw is hanging. “Were they?”

Jadzia grins and shrugs. Kira laughs.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Perhaps,” Jadzia allows, “but I do wonder... Being able to call nervous, asexual Tobin the lover of Lloja of Prim would have been quite the notch in my belt. Think of the stories I could have told! And now here Julian is with the opportunity. I know it’s not the same, I mean, it’s Garak. But, you have to admit, to write about him like that...”

“He must really love him,” Kira finishes for her, stumped. “I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

“I didn’t see it, either,” Jadzia confesses. “I was still wrestling with the idea that they were actually friends. I thought their association was strictly professional and all the books and flirting were just a front.” She cradles her head in her hands suddenly and sighs. “Ugh, but those poems. The poems are so good! Kira...”

“I know,” she moans. “They’re heart-wrenching. Which one are you on now?”

“Thirty-nine. I came back home, but I came back gone.”

“Ouch.”

“I know.”

A shout from below interrupts them and they both shoot out of their seats. Below, a Cardassian man has just had a beam fall on top of him. Jadzia and Kira bound down the stairs to him, Jadzia already slapping a hand on her comm badge. 

“Dax to Infirmary, a man has just been crushed, possibly impaled. Send a medical team to Replimat and be ready for emergency beam out.”

“Acknowledged, we’re on our way,” Girani says, but already Kira is looking up at Jadzia helplessly, the man’s wrist laying limp between her hands.

“He’s gone.”

“Shit!” Jadzia hunches over, hands on her knees. “That’s the third one today. Are Cardassians always this accident prone? No wonder you won the war.”

“No,” Kira says. “They’re not. You don’t think...”

“I don’t know,” Jadzia says grimly, and looks around at the crowd that’s formed. All Cardassian, all terrified. “But we need to find out.”

—

A Cardassian is sitting at the bar. This isn’t an unusual sight now, with the Festival of 90s Funk and Beyond coming up, but seeing one so young and looking so hunted is odd. Quark approaches him casually.

“What’ll you have?”

The Cardassian’s eyes dart. “Uh...” He leans over suddenly, cups both hands over his mouth, and whispers, “E. G. Special.”

Christ, these kids are going to kill him. “Coming right up,” he says in a normal person voice, and reaches under the bar for a glass. A little drink-mixing magic later, a beautiful fizzy blue drink is sitting between them, with an isolinear rod tucked neatly in the straw.

The Cardassian takes the drink between both hands excitedly, and Quark snaps his fingers in front of him. “Oh! Right,” the kid stutters, and all but launches the latinum at Quark’s face. “Thank you!” And off he goes, out of the bar with the glass still tight in his grasp.

“Idiot,” Quark mutters to himself, crouching carefully down to pick the latinum up off the floor without dirtying his expensive pants. “You’re supposed to take the straw, not the entire glass. That’s it, I’m switching to plastic. These little rebel brats don’t deserve my ni—Oh, hello, Constable! I didn’t see you there. What can I get you?”

Odo looks as unimpressed as ever. “That’s a funny question since last I checked, I don’t drink.”

“Ah, right, because you’re a liquid. How could I forget. You know, one of these days, I ought to serve you up with a little umbrella, see how people like it. I’d bet you taste bitter.” Odo harrumphs, and Quark makes himself busy with wiping down the counter. “Well, out with it then. What nefarious scheme am I up to now? I love to hear your little stories.”

Four isolinear rods drop onto the counter, right where Quark was just cleaning. “Hey now,” he says, throwing a performative glare at the changeling. “Careful. If you shatter glass in my bar, you’re cleaning it up.”

“I just had the most interesting conversation with the Tokal family,” Odo says, steamrolling right over him. “It seems their four darling children had somehow come into some questionable reading material. They tried searching for it in the Central Archives and yet, despite it being clearly Cardassian in origin, they could not find it. And I don’t need to tell you that when a piece of Cardassian reading material isn’t in the Central Archives...”

Quark, from his plastered position on the floor, stares up into Odo’s face directly horizontal to his and smiles. “What?”

“It’s illegal,” Odo sneers, stretching his body even further over the bar and nearly sending Quark starfishing. 

“Okay! Odo! I get it! But what does that have to do with me?”

“Quark!”

“Okay, okay! Whatever it is you think I’ve done, I’ll stop! I’ll stop, okay?”

“I know you’re going to stop, because I am going to confiscate every copy of Garak’s poetry that you have absconded with and destroy them.”

Quark gasps. “Book burning? In this day and age?”

“Garak did not give his permission for you to sell his work! He didn’t even want anyone to see it in the first place! Those poems were stolen. Now, I expect a list of every person you sold a copy to and a full and complete refund to be issued by tomorrow morning. Do I make myself clear?”

Quark glowers. “You’ve made yourself something, all right.”

“Quark...”

“Okay! All right. Consider it done.”

-

Turora Lumok. Obsidian Order operative and old colleague. Usually in deep cover in the Organian sectre, but has abandoned post to explore the space station. Barren, unattached. Cold. A model agent, if you ignore her unfortunate habit of going rogue and eliminating civilians on a whim. 

Recruited into the Order by Enabran Tain’s former right hand, Euluk Bucun, who was assassinated by Elim Garak in 2341 under orders from Enabran Tain for suspicions of treason. Turora Lumok disciplined shortly afterward by Elim Garak for complaining that she had wanted to be the one to kill that bitch.

Garak watches as the woman pretends to touch up her makeup while scouting for cameras. “Oh, Lumok, you always were woefully obvious. Have you been expecting me? I wonder why.”

Satisfied with the positions of the cameras, she puts away her mirror and strolls out of sight.

Garak shakes his head. “Fool. You forget how long I’ve lived on this wretched station. I don’t need to see you every second to know where you are.”

But then, the smell of antiseptic. Starfleet issue soap. Herbal shampoo, unique, robust. Gels. Oils. Sweat. 

He’s near.

Forcing calmness with a deep, measured breath, he takes off his eyepiece and slips it into his sleeve. He pays for the food he barely ate. He stands. He turns.

And is promptly thrust into the dark, deep woods of Julian Bashir’s eyes. “There you are, Garak! I’ve been looking all over for you,” the doctor says as if it’s just a regular day on Deep Space Nine. His hot, mammalian body caging him tightly in place against the table betrays the ruse. “Who was it you were talking to?”

Garak tries to step around him. Julian steps with him. “Oh, only ever myself. Forgive me, but you’ve caught me just on my way out. I have a strict appointment at 2.”

There’s Julian’s hand now. On his shoulder. Garak is calm. This is normal. “Well, why don’t I walk you there then.”

“My dear Doctor, I couldn’t rob you of your meal. Clearly you’ve just walked in.”

“Actually, I’ve found I’m craving something a bit different now.”

Garak makes to step around Julian again, and still Julian’s steps match his. It’s like they’re dancing. He doesn’t let this deter him. He’s not sure he’s capable of letting anything deter him now, with his heart trying to pound out of his throat. He keeps stepping doggedly forward, and Julian keeps mirroring, still with that damned hand burning through his tunic. “Well, you only have so much time before you must return to the infirmary, I know. Do not allow me to delay you in securing a table at a different locale.”

“Oh, but you’ve already delayed me so long. What’s a few more minutes?” A peek of teeth, a hint of warning. “Though I will admit... I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”

“Then don’t.” Finally, Garak manages to elbow past this madness and shoot out of the restaurant. The station is so crowded these days, it’s short work to get lost in it. In a sea of ridges and black hair, Garak slips his eyepiece back on and lets the wave take him. 

“Garak!”

Oh, for the Union’s sake—

He does not run. He does not stumble. He walks normally and not desperately, keeping his eye on both the path to the turbolift and Lumok. She’s down the corridor now, pretending to check her makeup again like an imbecile. Just a few paces more. Almost there...

“Garak, you’re the best dressed one here! You are not difficult to spot, you ridiculous dandy! Oh, no offense, Ma’am. Lovely scarf. Excuse me.”

There.

In the reflection of the mirror, Garak makes eye contact with the rogue and taps in the correct sequence on the device sewed into the seam of his pants just as the turbolift doors close behind him.

Like that, Turora Lumok is beamed into space and dies instantly, without a soul to mourn her, and Elim Garak walks back to his quarters with a hand over his mouth and a warmth on his shoulder, without a soul to mourn him, either.

—-

The Festival of Fierce and Fantastic Frogs is two days away and already it is being protested.

Outside Quark’s Bar is a growing army of dissident children with voice amplifiers and holoprojectors shouting to the stars that if they don’t get their porn back, they’ll tear it all down. Signs are projected in the air with essays cycling through them that look to be several pages each, a small holographic fire barely reaching ankle-height is lighting up the length of the promenade, and – perhaps most disturbingly – a comically inaccurate approximation of Odo is rotating at the center of the group, fitted in the typical regalia of the Cardassian military and holding a Klingon bat’leth. It is certainly... something.

“They’re Cardassians,” Quark is saying as he pours out some root beers. “They’ve probably never seen a protest in their lives, they don’t know what they’re doing. The Union puts an end to things like this pretty fast on the surface.”

“Heh,” Jadzia says, “what happens on DS9, stays on DS9.”

“Where’d you hear that?” Kira asks.

“It’s something Julian likes to say. Basically, they figure they can get away with speaking their minds here.”

Kira drums her fingers on the bar, staring into the flailing protestors thoughtfully. 

Right then, Odo arrives back on the scene. It looks like he’s trying to get through, respectfully, but the protestors are not making it easy. Jadzia and Kira come to his rescue just as about fifteen Cardassians start forming a blockade around him.

“I walked around as you do, investigating the endless stars,” one young woman is yelling at him while he stands there with big helpless baby eyes, “and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked, the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind!” 

“I don’t know what that means,” Odo says consolingly.

“Clearly!”

“Okay, okay, let him through!” Kira wiggles her way between the crowd and Odo, snatching him by the arm like a fish with a hook. “He’s not your enemy here, he was just upholding your laws!”

“The Cardassian government has no jurisdiction on a Bajoran station!”

“He made his choices!”

“Beautiful Julian would be ashamed of you! Repent! Repent!”

Kira and Jadzia manage to reel him most of the way through the protesters and he shapeshifts the rest of the journey. The protestors try to follow, but Quark bustles over to stop them. “No, no demonstrations inside! Remember who your allies are,” he says, and they all cow back. “Thank you.”

Odo ripples his form a couple times to make sure everything’s back in the right place and harrumphs. “Allies, Quark?”

“Yes, allies. It’s terrible what you’ve done to them. You can’t police art, Odo–-this is culture we're talking about here, the very bedrock of society.”

“And I’m sure this virtuous attitude of yours has nothing to do with the incredible profit you made and lost at the expense of our mutual friend.”

“Oh, I did him a favor.” Quark uncaps another bottle of Kanar and gestures back to the entrance, with its swarm of frothing Cardassian children. “Look, he’s got fans!”

“How has Garak been handling all this?” Kira asks Odo, sharing a look with Jadzia. “I haven’t heard a peep out of him since he gave us that antivirus program.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Didn’t you have breakfast with him yesterday?”

“Hmmm, that would have been routine. Except he didn’t show. When I made it back to my office, I found a message from him apologizing, telling me he’s so busy with orders he’s lost all track of time.”

“How has he been getting commissions?” Jadzia asks. “His shop’s been closed all week.”

Odo rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure the reality is he’s simply avoiding the issue. Dr. Bashir has informed me he’s been treating him like ‘the black plague’ as well.” 

“Julian’s one to talk. He practically pole-vaulted over a vedek the other day to get away from me.” 

“Speak of the devil,” Quark says, looking towards the door, and everyone turns just as the commotion starts–or, more accurately, the commotion abruptly stops. 

The protestors have all gone quiet, in apparent awe as they part around Julian like the red sea around Moses. He’s smiling stupidly as he stands in the center of them, nodding at something a Cardassian man is exclaiming. It’s an incredibly awkward scene, and Quark starts choking at some of the things his ears are picking up. “They’ve deified him,” he tells them, and Jadzia bursts into giggles at the idea, but Quark isn’t joking. “Really. He might as well be one of the prophets to them. You read the poems. You know.”

Ugh. Kira wrinkles her nose in disgust. The worst kind of blasphemy–horny blasphemy. “What is he even doing here?” she asks. 

“Getting his head inflated,” Jadzia says dryly, because now that Quark has mentioned it, it’s pretty clear from the shit-eating grin on Julian’s face that that’s exactly what’s happening. 

“Poor Garak.” Quark says it absentmindedly, but the comment gets several eyes turned on him. He’s shaking his head as he watches the scene unfold. “First, he falls for a human… humiliating… but then that love becomes public knowledge and several young beautiful Cardassians decide that he’s onto something, and now that human is going to get more action in a week than he’s seen his entire life. I’ve witnessed the rise and fall of more than a few star-crossed romances, but this might just be the saddest.”

“Julian wouldn’t have an orgy the same week the whole station found out Garak’s in love with him,” Jadzia says, insulted on his behalf.

Quark hefts a tray up onto his shoulder. “He just did,” he says as he leaves to go do his job, and Jadzia whips her head around to see Julian escorting two attractive Cardassians away from the protest. Her jaw drops.

“Bastard,” Kira spits, surprising everyone, herself most of all. Those poems must’ve affected her more than she realized.

Odo clears his throat unnecessarily. “I’m no expert on the behavior of solids, but it seems to me that neither party is handling this situation well.”

“I’ll tell you how the pakrela should be handling this,” an older Cardassian sitting at the far end of the bar cuts in, with a twitch to him that makes it clear he’s more than a few deep. “He should be settling his assets, because he doesn’t have long now. Whatever his human is doing is the least of his worries. Ha. Hehe. Being a traitor wasn’t enough for him. No, now he’s gone and corrupted the next generation with his degeneracy. Exile was too soft a punishment. Uh-huh.”

Kira opens her mouth to tell him to fuck off, but Odo touches her shoulder. “You speak as if you know him,” he notes mildly, because of course, the exact reason for Garak’s exile isn’t public record. It’s barely even private record. The Order doesn’t work that way–or didn’t, as it stands. It is interesting that this man is acting like he has classified information despite being a civilian. 

But then, sometimes day drinkers just like to spout speculation as fact.

The man looks into his glass and laughs at his reflection. “Who doesn’t know Garak these days? But that’s temporary. He’ll be forgotten soon enough, just like the Order.” He finishes his drink and gets up. He insincerely mutters some friendly Cardassian farewell and starts to walk past them, but Kira can’t let it go.

“Excuse me, but what’s your name, sir? You’ve been so informative.”

He looks at her for a long moment. “I don’t know,” he says, and elbows past the protesters.

—

“Solt Mebol, left behind a widow and child six years ago when he was tragically killed in a transporter accident. In reality, he accepted an undercover mission which required him to fake his death and have his bond dissolved. A significant sacrifice. Certainly not one many Cardassians could have made.”

The Cardassian stares at Garak sitting on his couch. Turning, he tries to exit his temporary quarters, but the door won’t open.

Garak tuts. “Oh, you know better than that, Mebol.” He taps his disruptor with his forefinger, resting harmlessly against his knee. “The festival isn’t for another couple days, yet here you are. Catching up with old friends before the festivities, I assume? Only I haven’t found you in anyone’s company but your own. You must be lonely. Please, let me alleviate your loneliness for a while.”

The Cardassian sighs at the closed door. “Solt, is it?”

“I can tell you the names of your wife and child as well, if you’d like, and the city they live in. Do you know your wife never rebonded? Unusual behavior for a Romulan. Quite dangerous, as I understand it.”

Solt steps carefully into the small living space and sits in the chair opposite Garak, with the coffee table between them. “As one of the last living members of the Order, I don’t suppose you would consider letting me go?”

Garak smiles pleasantly. “I would be delighted.”

“Would you? I had a deal with Central Command and they’ve been good to me so far. You, however, have been known to…” He eyes the disruptor casually turned in his direction.

“Yes, I imagine I must be something of a mystery these days to my people. I have been… squirrely, is what I suppose a human would say, and I must as well now that I’ve been painted with their brush. Oh, it is an incredible sin, I know. That I should enjoy the company of an attractive alien while in exile.”

Solt snorts. “You expect me to believe those poems were the natural result of a fling?”

“I don’t expect you to believe anything you do not wish to. I only say that it’s convenient that I should be seen as even more traitorous just as a swarm of Cardassians should enter the station.”

“What’s convenient is that you’re still alive. You have friends in high places willing to go to bat for you, in spite of everything you’ve done. It’s a disgrace. You are a selfish disloyal anarchist and no one is holding you accountable, because you just happened to be good at your job once and everyone likes the idea of having you as a potential weapon should the need for one arise. Until then, they’re content to keep you in a cabinet collecting dust and sentiment. You can wave that disruptor all you want, but we both know you make a poor operative now. You’re in love.” 

Garak is still smiling, but Solt can see the signs of a grimace. Dusty, indeed. Too passionate. Too human. “I’m hardly so foolish. You know better than I the dangers of such things in our line of work. You’re little better than a puppet now that you’ve had a whiff of the truth, Mebol.”

“You’re right.” Solt attempts to raise one eye ridge, despite it being unfit for such maneuvers, and leans forward towards that disruptor. “Pull my strings, then, and let’s test that grip Bashir has on yours.”

—

Kira crashes into Garak’s quarters and kickflips past all his booby traps like Indiana Jones’ hotter cousin.

“What the fuck, Richard?” is basically what she says, only it’s in character, so it’s more like, “What the fuck, Garak!”

Garak spins around in his maniacal villain chair with a look of surprise. “How did you get in here, Major?” Miles bustles his way in after her with his impractically enormous toolkit, and Garak lets out an, “Ah,” then, sedately, “I suppose Dr. Bashir filed a complaint about my tampering with the door codes. Of course, there’s a perfectly logical explanation. You see, it–”

“This isn’t about door codes, Garak,” Kira yells. “What I want to know is why our best suspect for the sudden influx of murders on the station was just found drowned in his own toilet!”

“Oh my,” Garak says. “What an unfortunate end.”

“Don’t play dumb. Not now. We know what you’re capable of, but we’re good people and we didn’t want to accuse a victim until we had exhausted the rest of our line-up. Only, interestingly enough, they’re all dead, so now…” she marches over with the fury of the Prophets on her heels and stands imposingly over him, her teeth clenched, “here we are.”

“That is interesting.” He runs a hand down a roll of fabric in his lap, smoothing it. “I suppose you must have some of that ironclad evidence that the Federation so treasures.”

Kira glares at him.

Garak feigns looking around. “Oh, but I can’t help but notice the good Constable isn’t here with you. What could that mean? Surely not that you broke into my quarters without due cause or a hint of warning–at your own word, not even to fix my glitching door. For all you knew, I could have been in here writing one of my vaunted Bashir epics.”

Kira’s hands are in fists now. “The evidence we have would be more than enough to have your face plastered on every viewscreen in Cardassia and you know it.”

“The Federation and Bajoran legal processes do seem a tad inefficient in moments like these, don’t they?”

“Okay,” Miles cuts in, because he has Turbo PTSD and is not in the mood for a flare up. “I think I'll just wait in the hallway, then. Holler if you need me. Good luck, Major.”

Kira and Garak spend a few moments watching him waddle out of the room and then go back to staring each other down. 

“Look, you ass,” Kira starts, “we couldn’t link every victim to the Cardassian government or some third-party organization, but we were able to link enough of them to recognize that these aren’t just random nobodies having ‘accidents.’ Someone was able to break into your computer and embarrass you and you don’t like that so you’re pitching a fit. I can’t have Odo arrest you – yet – but I can tell you to cut it out. This vigilantism isn’t helping–”

That gets a reaction. “Vigilantism!”

“Well, what would you call it?”

“Self-defense.”

“They attacked you?”

“Possibly.”

“Goddamn you, Garak! Just… don’t do this anymore, okay?”

Garak looks at her with innocent astonishment, like he’s still bewildered by her totally plausible accusations. “Well. You have my word, I suppose,” he says, bemused.

—

Gul Skrain Dukat. Blessed with a wife, seven children, two sets of living parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents, minus one father. Habitually cheats with lower ranked military officials, slaves, and barely legal adults, unbenownst to his family. Father was interrogated by Elim Garak and executed by the Union over live broadcast in the year 2350 for the crime of being a piece of shit. 

Elim Garak was shortly thereafter levied with an amateurish execution attempt by Gul Dukat. It failed.

The second attempt will succeed, but at a great cost.

The Festival of Filthy Fucking Foot Fetishists has officially begun, but Garak is struggling to feel any enthusiasm. He is surrounded by his people. The station has been dimmed by 15% to better suit Cardassian eyes and misting stations have been set up in limited locations. Extinct and invented flowers crafted by Cardassian and Bajoran artisans decorate the banisters and doorways. A wash of blue, green, and sparkling gold lights up every direction. There is the smell of freshly prepared Cardassian sweets on the air, a gentle warmth suffuses the atmosphere, and children are laughing on the promenade. It’s the first time the station has felt not just tolerable, but nearly pleasant, in years. 

But then, Garak has never felt particularly welcome among his people. As a child, he was an orphan generously cared for by service workers and sponsored by a government official, and as an adult, he was a member of the Order, which granted him more fear and loathing than it did admiration and respect. Companionship, in its truest form, was a rare thing to come by and not something he was encouraged to come by at all.

Perhaps that is why Dr. Bashir blindsided him. 

In any case, Garak is delicately balanced on the line between proper misery and numbness. He gave up imbibing around the same time that he gave up the implant—or rather, the implant gave up on him—but he’s on his third cup now, wandering through the festivities with no particular direction in mind. The exact spot of this last operation isn’t important, only the timing.

He finishes his drink while a group play a spirited game of cold moba in front of him. It shouldn't be long now.

All the nearby screens suddenly flicker from the event schedule to Dukat’s sharp grin and Garak hums. There we are. He knew the bitch wouldn’t be able to resist showing his face.

“Welcome everyone to the biennial Festival of–” a baby wails, “generously hosted here on Deep Space Nine by Bajor and the Federation, and of course organized by our own prodigous Detapa Council. Ah, that wormhole… quite the view, isn’t it?”

Garak looks around for another food stall that serves alcohol. 

There aren’t any stalls in his immediate vicinity, but there is a young Cardassian couple marching towards him while making dogged eye contact. 

Oh no. 

Garak starts to make a break for it. Not too fast, it won’t do to cause a stir, but there are a number of very good reasons for him to stay far away from any Cardassians who might recognize him right now. Especially if the source of that recognition is those damn poems he was too stupid and sentimental to destroy.

Before he can make it more than a few steps, however, he looks up to see another few Cardassians working their way towards him, also making eye contact.

No, no, no.

He makes to move towards the stairs then, only for his eyes to land squarely on him. 

Him, wearing the silky green outfit he lovingly crafted for him a few months ago. Him, shining in the festival lights, casting him in an even more arresting shade of gold than usual. Him, looking determined and coming straight towards him.

Oh, fuck no.

“Garak,” Julian calls out, likely reading the panic on his face and stance and soul.

“Today, I am not a Gul, though,” Dukat is saying. “I am but a humble representative of the Cardassian Union in its totality, and as such, I would like to thank Colonel Kira Nerys and Captain Benjamin Sisko for their hand in this week’s festivities. They have been nothing if not accommodating these last few weeks while our coordinators ran rampant through their halls.”

He should have accounted for the possibility of this. Thinking of Julian had become excruciating as of late, but that was no excuse. Whatever interaction Julian had been hoping to have with him couldn’t be allowed, not now, and not only for the sake of Garak’s traitorous, disgusting feelings. Even if it would give the sweet man closure, it would not be worth his life. 

“Now, it may be a bit unorthodox, but I thought it would be only fitting if the first Reenactment was carried out by our benevolent hosts, and the Lakarian City Acting Troupe were all too happy to take them under their wing.”

More eyes are turning towards the screen now, the laughing and playing and sloshing of cups quieting down. Julian is nearly with him, his approach halted only by the gathering crowd, and Garak can only pretend to be interested in Dukat’s speech while he racks his brain desperately for a solution. Any solution. Anything.

“I trust that the history of Cardassia is in capable hands.”

The screen flickers again and changes to a shot of one of Quark’s holodecks, where a lone Bajoran man stands in a beam of red light.

A hand grabs Garak roughly by the arm, and he nearly cries with relief when he sees that it’s Lumok.

Well, Lumok with the face and attire of a Bajoran, but that ever-present spark of unchecked malice in her eye is quite unmistakable to someone who worked with her for over a decade. 

“Surprised, you ugly old regnar?” she asks under the actor’s impassioned opening monologue.

He sucks in a breath as the sharp edge of something presses into his back. “Impossible. They found your body caught on one of the station’s spires.”

“A simple bait and switch,” she purrs, pressing the weapon closer, slicing through his tunic. A pity. This was one of his nicer ones. “You’ve gotten sloppy.”

He manufactures a smile. “A knife, then? A favorite of yours, I recall, but terribly messy for such a public venue. Not to mention if your aim is even an inch off, I’ll be in and out of the infirmary within the day, as if nothing at all had happened.”

“Don’t lecture me,” she growls. “You can’t do that anymore. You’re not anyone to anyone. Your master is dead, and what did you do the second you were off leash for the first time in your life? You went and choked yourself on the first Starfleet sotl you could find. You’re pathetic.”

It took incredible effort to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his skull. “Oh, just stab me already.”

“I’m not going to stab you. I’ve done a bit of outsourcing, in fact.” She slid the knife from his lower back to his side and looped her arm through his, pinning him in place with a wide smile. “All I had to do was suggest to my new friend that you were infiltrating the Federation. That you were poisoning them against Bajor from the inside, uniting Cardassia and Starfleet in a secret alliance under the guise of wooing the CMO. No, no, you won’t be killed by one of your peers. Your death will be at the hands of a perfect stranger. A pointless death for a pointless man.” She leans in and whispers into his aural ridge, “It always was so easy to make people hate you.”

The next few seconds are a flurry of chaos. One second he’s watching as Human, Bajoran and Cardassian actors alike are all holding hands and reciting ancient poetry and the next he’s on the floor with a searing weight bearing down on him from calf to shoulder. There are screams and footfalls coming from all directions and Odo’s voice is immediately discernible shouting over the commotion. His back is on fire, he can’t breathe, and there’s a slash in his side, but he doesn’t miss the thump of Lumok’s body a few feet away, dead before she hits the ground.

“Garak? Garak?” the weight on him is speaking frantically, pawing at his head and shoulders. The weight shifts and the hands flip him onto his back. Those same hands pat him down, blazing a path down his chest and his stomach and his sides, stopping at the superficial gash near his rib, and Garak knows who this is before he even opens his eyes.

“Garak,” Julian sighs with relief. Garak was meant to be dead by phaser blast right now, but instead Julian Bashir is smiling down at him like he’s important, kneeling beside him, his hands on him, branding him with their incredible heat. It shouldn’t be possible. No one could be that fast. 

“Doctor,” he manages on a wheeze. One of his ribs might be broken, actually.

“Dukat,” Sisko growls from the monitor in billowing robes and a long flowing wig, surrounded by flowers.

—

“Explain,” Sisko commands.

Having decided that showing weakness right now can only help his case, Garak is sitting hunched to the side, holding his reeling head in one hand. It’s through a hiss that he replies, “A woman named Turora Lumok was responsible for sabotaging the station with those poems forged with my data signature. The Bajoran woman who was just assassinated–she was no Bajoran, but rather one of the last remaining members of the Obsidian Order. She was hired by Dukat to kill me during the festival under the guise of a hate crime. No doubt because of her indomitable reputation, I’m sure. A number of Cardassian casualties these past several days were at her hands.”

Sisko walks to the viewport to stare out into the stars for a moment, processing this. “All his talk of friendship between Bajor and Cardassia…” he trails off, the ghost of a sneer on his lips as he turns back around. “His goal was just the opposite. He wanted to destroy any hope of cooperation.”

“And get me out of the way in the process,” Garak grumbles. 

Sisko hums and wanders over to Garak’s side, looking down at him thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me who assassinated Ms. Lumok?”

Garak stares at the floor through his fingers, his eyes glazed.

“Or who your informant is on Dukat’s involvement?”

“Captain,” Garak mutters, not looking up, “I have sat here concussed after an attempt on my life and shared with you everything that I know, and here you have not even told me who the tailor of your magnificent robe is.” He tugs half-heartedly at a strip of embroidery on the fabric. “I must admit, I am feeling a touch betrayed you didn’t come to me.”

Sisko flicks his eyes up to Julian, who has been standing in the corner with his hands behind his back. “Very well, Mr. Garak. I release you into Dr. Bashir’s care for now, but I expect to continue this conversation soon.” He massages his forehead. “Once I figure out what to do about this damned festival.”

Julian comes over to help Garak out of his chair, but Garak snaps upright and to the door before he can touch him. Sisko takes the opportunity to lean into Julian’s face and whisper, “Get more information out of him.” The doctor nods.

Julian isn’t angry when he steps out of Sisko’s office and sees that Garak is walking in the exact opposite direction of the infirmary, but he is disappointed. 

“Mr. Garak,” he says urgently once he’s caught up to the idiot.

Mr. Garak interrupts him in the same tone, “Now, now, my dear doctor, we both know I have a dermal regenerator in my quarters, so we need not extend–”

“And I think we both know this is about much more than a few bumps and bruises. I’m afraid the time for beating around the bush passed quite a while ago.”

“You’re right, Doctor,” Garak says, coming to an abrupt stop and rounding on him with wild eyes. “There is an urgent matter we must discuss.” Julian’s eyebrows raise, and Garak nods severely. “Oh, yes, let us not ‘beat around the bush.’ We should talk about how you threw yourself directly into the line of a lethal phaser blast on the one in a millionth chance that you might save my life. The cost of such an action being almost certainly your own life, and yet, here you stand, and here I stand. Will wonders never cease.” Julian opens his mouth, but Garak raises a finger. “Nevermind that I was in the middle of an altercation with a very dangerous, very volatile woman who would not have hesitated for a second to dispose of you. She had a nasty habit of that. Now I knew that you were naive, Doctor, Doctor! I knew that! What I did not know – what I never could have guessed after all these years – was that you are an idiot.” 

Julian stares back into Garak’s hissing face, unimpressed. Garak feels a wave of deja-vu and does not like it. It has no place here. And yet, Julian takes in a breath and smiles, raising his shoulders. “All right, Garak. If it’s really so important to you, we can talk about your suicide attempt.”

“What?” Garak bites out.

“You were going to let yourself get shot, yes?”

“I was n–” Garak starts to lie, disgusted, but is stopped by Julian stepping entirely too close. He stumbles back a step, then another when Julian attempts to crowd him again, and the familiarity of the routine has him shutting his eyes, rueful. They’re dancing again. It’s humiliating, the things this man makes him do, how effortlessly he can gain the upperhand. Most of the time without even having to lift a finger.

“You figured out Dukat’s plan and arranged for Lumok to die if she succeeded, but you expected her to. You didn’t expect to be saved,” the doctor tells his blank, unresponsive face. His eyes are still closed, his hands tense at his sides, but he knows Julian’s stepped closer again by the heat of his livid breath. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Very well. I didn’t figure it out. I was informed.”

“So, the captain was right.” He sounds bored, but Garak seizes his chance. His eyes open in a sudden burst of animation.

“Yes, I had an informant. I believe the major was familiar with him, a fellow by the name of Damoc who was recently presumed dead? Though I knew him far better as Mebol. We first met on Romulus, you see. In the event of my death, he had strict instructions to reveal Dukat’s plot in my stead and protect my remaining assets. In return, he was to receive some valuable coordinates, which by now he will have long accessed. I suppose he’s already booked passage off of the station, if he hasn’t already gone.” 

“Quick to abandon you,” Julian says, completely off-script. Garak’s carefully measured breathing stutters.

“Surely Captain Sisko would like to have a word with him.”

“I’m sure.”

“Doctor…” Garak says, lost. “There isn’t time to was–”

Suddenly there are two hands slamming into his chest like they’re iron forks and he’s a slab of meat, rocketing him back into the nearest wall with a loud thud. Garak gasps at the strength of it, astounded, but all his attention is quickly monopolized by Julian’s snarling words.

“Stop trying to distract me, Garak! Stop racing away before I can even properly get into the room, stop begging off lunch, stop ignoring my comms, and stop acting like your bloody life is over just because it was found out that you have feelings for me!” 

“I–I don’t–”

“Lke hell you don’t! Thirty-seven.”

Garak blinks several times. “What?”

“Thirty-seven. That’s how many direct references to our literary discussions are in your poems. All chronologically concordant with the dates of those discussions, and six of which from that classic Earth album I recommended to you a year ago that you swore up and down sounded like a pack of voles had been crammed into a bucket and shaken around. I knew you were having me on. You love Mitski, and you love me.”

Garak’s face shutters. 

Finally, Julian takes a step back. His hands remain on his chest, pinning him in place, but he allows him some oxygen. Exactly twenty seconds pass like this, before the doctor becomes impatient and huffs, “You can’t possibly have nothing to say.”

“What would you have me say, Doctor?”

“I would like you to admit it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve heard it from friends and coworkers and strangers and every tourist on this damn station, it feels like, but I haven’t heard it from you.”

Garak is silent for a long time. Finally, he quietly asks, “You would further humiliate me this way? Knowing what you do? My dear friend…” He, carefully, with only the gentlest of pressure, puts a hand over one of Julian’s. “Please. You’ve read everything I could possibly have to say. What more could there be?”

Julian’s hands are unforgiving, but his eyes soften at the simple lowering of the curtain. It’s not the direct confession he was looking for, the I love you completely, traitorously, ruinously that his poems professed and a deep, broken part of Julian desperately wants to hear, but it is, it is. For Garak, this is as explicit as it gets, and Julian can feel his heart trying to catch in his throat.

“Garak,” he starts to say.

Garak isn’t scowling anymore. His eyes are shining as he looks away and sucks in an aggrieved breath. “Oh, please, let us skip this excruciating precursor. I have no intention of remaining on this station.”

Julian goes unnervingly still. “Excuse me?”

“I will need time to pack up my shop and settle my lease, but then I promise, you will never suffer the consequences of my unfortunate… condition again.” When Julian only stares at him with mounting alarm in his lovely eyes, Garak grimaces. “You must know I had no intention of pursuing you.” At least, not after the implant had been shut off and he’d realized what horrors he’d stumbled into with the doctor while under its influence, and by then, it was already too late. He was too weak to stop speaking to him, but he was not a complete monster. “I wouldn’t have. My writing was never about nurturing the emotions, only managing them.” A bit of a lie, but only a bit. He does love to languish and he never could resist a good innuendo. Their friendship had been infinitely precious to him, though, and he couldn’t bear the slow death it would undergo now that everyone knew the truth.

The worsening rumors that would spread. The suffering of Julian’s reputation, career, and love life with the Cardassian spy’s drastic affections hanging over everyone’s heads. The danger it would place them both in, the damage it had already done. The way Julian would know every time Garak flirted now, it was never idle. It had never been and could never be. 

It would be a torture hitherto unthinkable. Better to sever the limb before it could rot.

Still, Julian is silent. The pressure on his chest is more a suggestion than a command now.

“Doctor, I…” he swallows back anymore hideous truths. “I apologize. Your rage is understandable, but I swear to you, I have every intention of righting this wrong.”

“Oh,” Julian says then, softly, as if he isn’t speaking to Garak at all,  “you don’t know.”

“Doctor?”

He makes a bizarre human gesture, skimming the heel of his hand off his forehead. “My God! Of course. I thought it was pride, or shame, or paranoia. Anything and everything but this, but of course you would be this ridiculous. Well. That’s an easy enough problem to solve.”

“Doctor–?!”

The hands on his chest are gone. Instead, they’re seizing him by the head and pulling him up to connect his mouth to Julian’s.

Oh.

If Julian’s touch was a brand before, this is lava running down his throat, into his stomach and down, down, down to eat through the twenty inch thick duranium floor. Slow, thorough, and final in its devastation. A transformation that cannot be persuaded. He grapples with it, hands scrambling stupidly over and across his doctor’s shoulders. Whether it’s to pull him closer or push him away, he doesn’t know. He’s too busy being brutally altered to give it much thought.

His hands settle for burying themselves in his hair at some point. When doesn’t matter. Time holds no power here. It happens, and then he knows how soft Julian Bashir’s hair feels, and there is no going back.

The loss of control becomes alarming enough that he finally manages to pry himself away, gulping in desperate, anxious breaths of frigid station air. It works. The fire and the madness that followed it calms down and he manages the strength to push Julian back, but the wet smack of their lips disconnecting will echo in his dreams for the foreseeable future, as will the dizzy grin on Julian’s face inches from his own. There’s a hand on his ass keeping him from tumbling through the hole in the floor and a couple unlucky passersby gawking at the gruesome scene and Garak is a different creature entirely, incandescent and strange, forged anew in the curious fires of mutual attachment. 

He feels insane.

“Doctor, you cannot truly be this naive.” 

Julian looks anything but naive right then. He can’t focus on that, though. He needs to focus on the fact he was nearly assassinated; the fact that the kindest man alive nearly died with him out of some misguided terran idea that all lives are of equal value and importance.

And yet, Julian is leaning in to kiss him again, so Garak puts a hand on his chest and says, “You know what I am.”

Julian’s expression turns complicated and it’s clear he understands. Garak’s roiling emotions can’t settle on being relieved or horrified. How to go on after this? After knowing intimately what he almost had, with the smoke of it still thick in his eyes and his throat and his heart?

A gentle hand on his jaw brings him back to the moment, where Julian’s eyes are serious. “I know,” he murmurs.

Garak sucks in a wet breath.

“The question is,” Julian continues, even quieter, “do you know what I am?”

His head is spinning. “Doctor?”

Julian just smiles sadly, and it's clear that there are some long conversations in their future. But for now… “About that dermal regenerator in your quarters,” Julian begins, and Garak is relieved to find out that whatever stupid, lovely thing he’s become can still appreciate an innuendo.

—

Not long after, in the middle of telling Sisko all about Mebol over Julian’s comm badge while its owner watches expectantly in a state of teasing half-dress, he’s horrified to find that whatever thing he’s become is also rather eager to please.

—

A couple days later, the two of them are picking from a generous cut of flaming taspar in the Replimat.

Or, Garak is picking, anyway. Julian is stuffing his face. Ordinarily, this would mildly scandalize him, but the fact it’s taspar, one of the most traditional delicacies of his homeworld, being shoveled enthusiastically into that pretty face makes it so he can feel only hope.

Rather than giving into that inadvisable feeling, he takes a dainty sip of his tea and tries to look nonsuspect. Cardassians from all sides and angles are staring.

“About Miss Leeta…” Garak begins.

Julian wipes his face with the side of his hand. Disgusting, but oddly compelling. “What about her?” 

“When will you be breaking the news to her?”

“Oh.” Julian smiles, bemused. “She knows.”

A tightness in his chest dispels slightly. “Does she?” he says faintly.

“She’s the one who first brought it up. We performed the Rite of Separation days ago. She said it was great timing, what with the festival and all. We didn’t even have to leave the station.”

“So you were together then.”

“Well, in a sense. We weren’t in love, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Garak takes another sip, lowering his eyes. “I wasn’t worried. Only concerned for the young lady’s feelings.”

Julian’s face is incandescent. A Cardassian to his far left is openly gaping. “Of course, of course.” He leans suddenly over the table then, moving a hand forward to rest on his knee. “So, should I take this line of questioning as an indicator that you’re open to a relationship with me?”

Garak shifts a little in his seat, moving his knee further under the table and its shadows, but otherwise doesn’t pull away. “It would be unwise,” he says quietly, without actually saying no.

The hand squeezes. “It isn’t as if people won’t assume anyway.”

“Rumors can be dispelled. Redirected. Altered.” He reaches forward to take a small saucière and pours a bright red sauce over a couple groatcakes. “There would be no coming back from a confirmation.”

Julian’s hand falls away. “Would it be so bad?”

“I don’t know,” Garak says, splitting a cake up into three neat sections. “Would it, Doctor?”

A Bajoran couple walks past their table then, and while one purposely avoids eye contact and seems to be giving them a wide berth, the other throws a meaningful glare Julian’s way. This is the fourth judgemental or pitying look he’s received since they came in for brunch. Julian calmly returns the look, refusing to be the first to look away, until finally the man averts his eyes and Julian looks back to Garak with a stern smile. Garak inclines his head.

“Be careful, Doctor,” Garak goes on. “Rumors can ruin lives. End careers.” He scoops up a bite of his cake, dripping with red sauce, and lifts it to his mouth. “Kill,” he finishes, and eats.

At that, Julian leans back in his seat with his arms crossed tight. Garak gives him his time. It’s a relief to have finally made a dent in Julian’s lovesick, idealistic conviction–and Garak can admit, after the last few days, that it is lovesickness. Julian’s decided he loves him back and there will be no stopping him from pursuing this, but there may yet be some tempering. A small, equally stubborn, sentimental part of Garak despairs at the whole horrid affair, but the behemoth of his good sense squashes this part down with little difficulty. 

It’s this moment that a smattering of young Cardassians, accompanied by one Jadzia Dax, arrive at their table. Immediately, Garak recognizes them as the ones that nearly intercepted his meeting with Lumok and his stomach drops. Julian, on the other hand, brightens back up.

“Well, hello there,” he says warmly.

Jadzia responds first, with each elbow leaned on a Cardassian’s shoulder and a knowing sparkle in her blue eyes, “Hello to you.” The Cardassians all echo with similar greetings, some shy, others giddy.

One young woman standing at the front, with her hair in three elaborately plaited braids and little makeup, is looking at Garak with particular interest. “You’re the one who wrote the poems about Julian.”

Garak looks at the girl coolly. “Do you mean Dr. Bashir?”

She goes blue. “Oh, um. Yes. I do.” She tucks an imaginary lock of hair into her perfectly coiffed hair and lowers her head respectfully. “My apologies, Doctor.”

“Hey now,” the doctor scolds with good humor, “none of that. We’re all friends here.” 

The girl throws another searching glance Garak’s way. “Friends?”

That’s enough of that. “This is certainly quite the surprise,” Garak says genially, plastering on his most pleasant smile. “Is there something you needed? As Deep Space Nine’s resident Cardassian tailor and reputed troubadour, I’m always happy to be of service.” Julian sends him a sharp look, which he ignores. 

Jadzia is looking as foxy as she ever does, with a grin nearly to her spotted ears. “Julian asked me to bring them here,” she says too happily, and Garak has to sit back in his seat to process that. Julian scratches his neck with a guilty smile, obliviously alluring. It cannot be overstated that there are, still, eyes on them from all directions and angles.

“Garak, sir,” the Cardassian woman-child begins again, earnest, “let me start over. My name is Inia Milam. I am the President of the Ivory State Liberation Library. We collect–”

“Madam,” Garak interrupts her quietly, stunned. “This is hardly the time and place.” He blinks, still shocked stupid by her brazenness, and leans towards her, peering into her distressingly young features with beseeching desperation. “And I am hardly the audience.”

Milam doesn’t appear to process his warning at all, though. She just continues to look inquisitive. She has that gleam in her eyes that is common in Cardassian women, calculating and intelligent, but there’s something else there. Something indefinable that he’s seen hundreds of times over an interrogation table, but without the fear to staunch it. Without the hopelessness. It makes his stomach flip. “On the contrary, you are exactly the sort of person we look for.” She bows her head. “Dr. Bashir promised that if we assisted him a few days prior, he would introduce us so that I could formally welcome your book of poems into our shelves. I apologize if this comes as a surprise. I wish only to thank you for your excellent contribution, E. G., and tell you that we hope to welcome many more pieces from you in the future. I’ll be in touch. Dr. Bashir.” She nods to him, returns his gentle smile, and walks confidently away. The rest of the group mirror her, voicing similar words of polite farewell and appreciation, and leave.

Garak forces himself not to track their departure and instead picks up his fork again, as if nothing world-shattering has occurred at all. The cake is tasteless in his mouth.

Julian is concealing nothing of his thoughts, however. He’s staring openly at Garak, as if he’s a bomb and he’s trying to figure out which color wire to cut.

Ultimately, it’s Jadzia that breaks the tension. “Well,” she says, “that is some harem you’ve got there, Julian.”

“Jadzia,” Julian barks. She laughs.

“I’m teasing, I’m teasing.” Uncharacteristically, her impish smile turns regretful. “Now that that’s out of the way, I do have to bring your friend in for questioning,” she says, and that explains that. “I’m sorry, boys. I stalled Ben as long as I could.”

Garak polishes off the last of his meal and takes one last gulp of his tea to wash it down. With that done, he stands with a placid, conciliatory smile.

Julian puts a hand on his shoulder before he can take a step. “I’ll come see you after my shift.” Those lovely, dark, deep eyes search his, pinning him like a moth above his fireplace. “Okay?”

Garak inhales. “Without end,” he murmurs, waits for Julian’s eyes to light in understanding, and then aloud says, “I am at your disposal, Doctor. Good day.” With that and a firm, friendly pat on Julian’s hand, he limps away.

Jadzia rather pointedly watches him limp to the exit for a few long seconds before throwing Julian a rakish grin. “Well, well,” she says largely. Julian pretends not to notice, and Jadzia pivots on her heel after Garak.

“Before we lock you up and throw away the key, could you sign my datarod,” Julian hears Jadzia asking, and he shakes his head, unsuccessfully trying to rub away his smile.

Without end Do I think of you and so Come to me at night. For on the path of dreams at least, There's no one to disapprove! Ono no Komachi

[lovings4turn]

ᯓ★  𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 (𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒)

— a few days have passed since you last saw lando, yet your feelings are as strong as ever. there’s nothing like another party to finally set the record straight. (3.2k words)

+ aka. part two of don’t delete the kisses (and my longest fic to date on this blog !!)

+ again mentions of drinking and clubbing, largely fluff . lando n reader are only slightly tipsy ! this took far too long to get out but she's finally here - hope you all enjoy !!!

it had been three days since you’d gone to the club, and three days since you’d consequently fled from the club due to your inability to act normally around lando norris.

you hadn’t seen him since then, but you’d texted back and forth from the morning afterwards. you’d felt bad about the whole thing, just leaving without even finding him to say goodbye, and so made up some excuse about getting too overwhelmed and not wanting to ruin his night with your desire to go home.

and because he was an angel, lando didn’t even question you. instead, he instantly accepted your explanation, assuring you it was more than fine as long as you were okay. he could go without a goodbye, if it meant the best for you.

eighty percent of your subsequent conversations were complete nonsense. ever since you had became close all those years ago, lando had taken it upon himself to text you every single thought he ever had, no matter how menial or silly.

embarrassingly, as a result of being down so, completely, horrifically bad for him, you found each and every one endearing. yes, even the god-awful memes he would send you religiously between the hours of two and five am when he couldn’t sleep.

perhaps it was even worse that you’d go on to forward said memes to other friends, pretending that you had found them. you were unable to prevent the laughs that would escape your lips every time your phone buzzed with a notification from lando.

one on hand, you were on top of the world. on the other, you were going insane.

lando had positively taken over your mind, every corner of your head filled with deep brown curls and impish laughter. even the most menial things proved to link back to lando in some way, a tangled red string of association that to anyone else would make zero sense but was obvious to you.

you were icarus, and lando the sun; something to dream of but never to have. you were certain that if you chased him, your wax wings would melt rapidly as you succumbed to your impulses before you crashed onto the harsh ground of reality.

learning to cope with the heavy feeling of yearning was something you could do. suffering with a little heartache to keep lando in your life far outweighed not having lando at all.

being definitive in your decision to bury your feelings didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle, though.

now more than ever, it seemed impossible to not think about lando, or talk about him, shout his name from the rooftops so the whole world could hear the praises you would sing for him. it appeared to be a pretty clear sign that you were losing any remaining shreds of self control, but what could you do? no matter how many times your head said no, your heart would tell you that it would always be lando, one thousand times over.

a notification lit up your phone screen, and you were convinced it was a sort of cruel taunt from the universe. 

landonorris just posted a photo!

it was borderline masochistic, the way in which you tapped the notification instantly and allowed yourself to be led to lando’s latest instagram photo dump. alongside a few selfies, pictures of him from that night in the club were littered throughout, and though he was posing with friends in each photo, your eyes were focused solely on him.

without really thinking, you pinched the screen, zooming in a little further to admire every detail of lando’s face that had been captured by someone’s iphone. the moles that were dotted across his face like they’d been individually placed there, the unruly curls that begged your fingers to find a home in them, and that fucking smile.

realisation hit soon after, and you caught yourself with a groan. here you were, sitting looking at his pictures with a dopey, love-sick grin on your face, acting like a teenage girl with an innocent classroom crush.

“god! might as well write all over a notebook that he rocks my world or something,” you scoffed, mock disgust lacing your words.

oh great, now you were fucking talking to yourself. christ, what had he done to you?

in an act of frustration, you quickly liked lando’s photo before throwing your phone onto your bed, partially hoping it would get lost amongst the pillows so you couldn’t find it again and fawn over more pictures of your supposed best friend.

a distraction was what you needed. and so you stood up and made your way into the kitchen, praying that maybe cooking a nice meal for yourself would sort you out. either that, or you could hit yourself over the head with a frying pan and hope that the concussion would remove any feelings that breached the label of ‘platonic’.

and for two whole hours, your plan had worked. 

not only were you able to enjoy the delicious meal you’d made, but also got through a good few episodes of the new tv series you had started watching a week or so ago. the lando shaped hole in your mind had been replaced by witty dialogue and pointless character drama, and you were beginning to think that you had everything under control.

that was until you returned to your bedroom and reached for your phone once more, your lockscreen lighting up to display yet another text thread from lando.

lando: going out tomorrow at 10!!!

lando: be there or be square😈

lando: i need my best dance partner w me

fingers dancing across the keyboard, the text was sent before your brain could even think about the invitation.

y/n: i'll b there����

it was official: you were absolutely fucked. 

. . .

it was 10:28pm and you were already questioning your decision to come out.

you would say that you had no idea why you’d even agreed to the invitation, but that would be a lie. you knew exactly what had convinced you to get dressed up and leave your house tonight, and that reason was currently grinning at you from his place at the bar, clothed in another stupid button down shirt and sunglasses, of all accessories. 

how he had managed to make sunglasses indoors not only acceptable, but attractive to you was just another sign of the power that the man held over you. you’re sure that if you told your friends, they’d never let you live it down. and hell, you wouldn’t even blame them for it.

from the moment you had arrived, lando had commanded your attention. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t intently tuned in to every word he spoke, each movement of his limbs and the expressions on his face. he had you completely hooked, and you were letting it happen, swept along in the riptide of your stupid crush,

whether it was from the pulsating house music, the shot lando had shoved into your hand the moment you’d shown your face, or even just lando himself, you felt electric. sparks of lightning rippled beneath your skin, every last nerve in your body buzzing with anticipation for something that you couldn’t even put your finger on.

butterflies swarmed your stomach, and if someone were to tell you you were looking at lando with stars in your eyes, you would have no doubt that it was true. because as he grinned at you once more, the lively groups of club-goers began to fade away leaving only a vignette of his figure.

you were experiencing every romantic cliche in the fucking book, all thanks to him.

you were unsure as to whether it was a minute or a hour before he was standing in front of you again, the scent of his aftershave almost taunting you as it enveloped you. lando was expertly clasping two vodka cokes in one hand and two shots of tequila in the other, sporting a lopsided smile.

“lando!” you groaned, actions betraying your scolding tone as you reached out to pluck the shot from his hand before grabbing your drink, careful not to cause lando to spill anything. 

the last thing you needed right now was to spill a drink on lando’s white shirt. the sight of the material slowly becoming see-through until it offered you a glimpse of his tan, toned skin was more than you would be able to handle. 

lando held up the plastic shot glass with a cheeky expression, a silent toast to god knows what, before he tipped the liquid down his throat. his face quickly soured, and he wasted no time in seeing off a large portion of his drink in an attempt to rid himself of the tequila flavour.

“woah, woah, slow down there,” you laughed, gently pushing the cup away from lando’s mouth. “got the whole night ahead of you.”

watercolour eyes dropped to glance at your hand, lando’s stare lingering even after you had pulled your hand back towards your body hastily, as though merely being in the proximity of his body was enough to burn. 

you would have thought it odd, if lando hadn’t immediately taken your hand into his larger one and stalked off towards the dance floor, gently tugging you along without a word. your mind told you that lando had simply felt the effects of his drink quicker than expected, and it took him a minute to realise that leading you to the dance floor was the mission he would give himself for the night.

flashbacks of the last time you were out clubbing with lando played in the back of your mind like an old movie, something you would put on in the background for comfort yet wouldn’t pay much attention to. 

one dance turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it you had been dancing with lando for the better part of an hour, both of you expertly adapting your moves to match the vibe of whatever song the dj decided to play next.

one of the many perks of attending clubs with formula one drivers was that there was an ever-flowing supply of alcohol. it was something you’d discovered after the first few times you had gone out with lando and his friends: you would finish your drink and before you could blink, someone had shoved a new one into your hand, the cup still marbled with cold condensation.

your current drink had been supplied by max, or maybe even carlos, a far too strong liquor mixed with nowhere near enough soda for your liking. your nose scrunched up at the taste, and lando laughed before gently plucking the cup from you, his fingers brushing against your own for a fleeting moment. 

a fire burned in the pit of your stomach, noticing that lando’s lips landed perfectly over the lipgloss mark you’d left moments ago. an indirect kiss. 

much like your own moments prior, lando’s face twisted up into a grimace at the taste, and he shook his head furiously.

“that's fucking awful,” he claimed, leaning down a little to shout his complaints into your ear. “whoever bought you that has shit taste.”

“says the man who bought a round of tequila earlier in the night.”

lando chuckled, mumbling a ‘fuck off’ that held more adoration than malice, in your humble opinion. like he had rehearsed it, lando smoothly palmed your drink off onto max before delicately taking hold of one of your wrists, twirling you around just like he had done a few nights ago.

possibly driven by a subconscious want to set right the events of your last night out, you repeated your own actions and spun lando under your arm in response.

lando’s grin was almost blinding, and he pulled you towards him, your hands still clasped by his as he moved your limbs around like the world’s worst puppetmaster.

you were convinced that, had he had enough room around him, he would have spun you both around until you were dizzy, a move he’d pulled many times when you were dancing together in one of your kitchen’s to pass the time it took to cook your meal. 

sadly, lando had to settle for flailing arms and uncoordinated shimmies, his priority making you smile rather than trying to look suave amongst the mass of bodies at your every turn. 

a few other drivers started to join your circle, handing you both more drinks as they tried to engage in miscellaneous conversation and playfully poked fun at yours and lando’s lack of coordination or apparent shame.

unable to control who stood where, thanks to the power of free will, you had been separated from lando, instead flanked by oscar and george whilst he was wrapped up in a conversation with max fewtrell.

thanks to his position across from you, lando was able to catch your eye, his brow quirked slightly in a silent question meant only for you to decipher. you nodded, a clear response to his wordless communication.

as though it were planned, you and lando began to leave. this was how your last french exit should have been; no longer were you alone and flustered, stumbling into the back of your uber with the desire to bash your head off of a brick wall.

no, this time you had lando’s hand in yours, the pad of his thumb brushing soft circles against the back of your hand as he expertly manoeuvred you both through the crowd, informing you that a car would already be there to take you back to your flat with him in tow. 

apologetic texts and goodbyes weren’t necessary this time around, if the loud, obnoxious whooping and whistling from pierre and charles were anything to go by. with their propensity for gossip, you were sure that every inhabitant in the club would be informed of your swift exit with lando within the hour. 

the ride home was filled with melodic laughter as lando made it his mission to unload every observation he’d made in the past few hours onto you. he’d taken particular interest in the argument two girls were having when he was waiting at the bar, and left no detail out as he recounted the whole event like some sort of one man show, his only audience you. 

the streetlights you passed caused a flickering glow to dance across lando’s features, and the momentary flashes of illumination caused lando to look otherworldly, all shadows and contours framed by deep curls.

lando was so caught up in his story that he was oblivious to your wonderstruck stare, completely unaware of the way you were drinking in every last inch of him, committing each miniscule detail to memory and storing it away for a rainy day. 

good, you thought. he’d only take the piss anyways.

the alcohol rendered you both a little unsteady on your feet, and you snorted a laugh as lando stumbled through your front door, catching his shoe on the tiny step that led into your apartment. 

whoever lived underneath you would likely be cursing your name right now, as neither you nor lando were too concerned about remaining quiet and light on your feet as you bumbled over to your bedroom. comfort was the only thing on your mind, though you made a mental note to push an apology letter underneath the poor soul’s door the next day. 

making himself at home, lando threw himself down onto your bed, the plush mattress eliciting a soft groan from him. his once closed eyes snapped open as you tossed a pair of his joggers at him, a pair he’d left at yours a few months ago (and that you may or may not have ‘forgotten’ to return to him.)

“i’ll get changed in a sec,” lando promised, sinking back into your sheets. “you can too. just, come on, lie down for a bit.”

lando delivered two quick pats to your bed, perhaps hoping it would prompt you to join him faster than you already would have. secretly, you were glad that he thought you needed convincing to lie down with him for a moment.

you pretended to consider it, eyes flitting over to where your makeup remover sat, before you gave in, mumbling an ‘okay’ as you clumsily removed your shoes and clambered onto the bed next to him.

the gap between you both was barely there. if you moved your hand just slightly, your fingers would brush against lando’s side. how easy it would be, just to grant yourself a slice of heaven for once.

lando’s voice brought you out of your trance. 

“when you left, last time…”

an unfinished question. lando was clearly attempting to seem nonchalant as he broached the topic that you had both been skirting around since it had happened, his eyes trained onto the thread of your duvet that he had busied his hands with. 

in that moment, you didn’t think you could ever lie to him, no matter how humiliating the truth was. 

“it got too much. y’hands on me and everything, i got too flustered. i just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, i guess,” you admitted as an embarrassed smile played on your lips. 

a giggle trickled from lando’s mouth, prompting you to roll onto your side and face him with a raised brow.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothin’. just the fact you fancied me so much that you had to run away from me,” lando responded, grinning mischievously.

your response came in the form of a pillow hitting lando square in the face.

“oi!”

the pillow came flying back, but missed your body by roughly a couple of inches, the alcohol clearly impairing his usually decent aim. 

“missed me,” you taunted.

unexpectedly lando’s face lit up at your words, and he rolled closer to you, propping himself up onto an elbow so that his face was hovering over yours.

you swallowed thickly at the sudden movement, eyes darting across his face frantically as though his motives would be written into the curve of his smile.

“think there’s a saying about that,” lando mused, a hand trailing up your side so gently that you half believed you were imagining it. “missed me, missed me, now you’ve gotta kiss me, or something.”

and if that wasn’t a sign to press your lips to his, you weren’t sure what was.

you swallowed lando’s sound of surprise as your lips melded with his own, his mouth soft and warm as he more than returned your affections.

clearly not content with the level of control he possessed, lando briefly pulled back and swiped the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before attaching his lips to your once more, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth and nipping at it with a smirk.

it was slow, and a little sloppy, a blend of tongue and teeth as you desperately tried to taste as much of each other as possible.

your grip on lando’s shirt was vice-like, as though you were scared he would disappear if let out of your hands for even a fleeting second.

“don’t worry, ‘m not going anywhere, pretty girl,” lando teased softly, punctuating his words with another kiss. “y’stuck with me.”

and suddenly, everything had become clear. it was always going to be you and lando, a love that would transcend a lifetime.

tags : @wintfleur @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @ssararuffoni @tbsloneely @onecojg @basicchelsea