#i think he probably practices pouting in front of the mirror | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neochan · 2 years ago

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THE PRIDEFUL GAMER (M)

SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part two of a series! read part one for context!

PAIRING | best friend!haechan x reader

SYNOPSIS | lee donghyuck had the largest ego you’d ever seen for someone who stayed cramped in their dorm room all night playing video games; but when you stay in with him the night after a raging party, you find yourself realizing that ego just might be deserved.

WC | 10.8k

WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol & weed, sexual comments, hyuck shirtless and covered in paint, party games, comments abt virginity, switch!hyuck (slight sub, lean dom), sexual content (nothing too crazy).

A.N | i know you guys have been waiting for this, so i hope it lives up to the hype :) and if it doesn't - sorry

“Haechan, I need you to fuck me.”

Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, tired eyes ringed with heavy circles and glinting in judgement.

This was fucking ridiculous.

No matter how many times you sat in front of the mirror and practiced, you couldn’t get the words out with a straight face. Even the wet dreams that plagued your sleeping hours weren’t enough to prepare you. After all, you still couldn’t believe what you were going to ask Haechan to do. Or participate in, rather.

It wasn’t that you were scared, or that you didn’t want it, because trust and believe your mind and body both craved him; it was just stressful. Asking your bestfriend to give you some dick and then go on and mind his business like nothing happened?

Unfathomable.

But it was Haechan, and something in your brain told you he’d jump at the chance to fuck you; at least you were hoping so. How could you not think that when he said things like –

“If I open the door, am I gonna see boobs?”

Case in point.

You yell back, a blush of embarrassment heating your face while you fumble around to act like you were putting on makeup and not practicing asking him for sex, “No you pervert!”

The door swings wide open and the boy in question steps into the tiny room, “That’s a damn shame.”

God Damn.

Ever since that alcohol induced dream, your body had taken the liberty of reacting every time you caught sight of Haechan. It didn’t matter if he was drunk with pasta sauce smeared all over his face after he smashed a bowl of ravioli (true story), or if he was all done up for a class presentation on the history of the toaster oven (out of all things); your body reacted the same either way.

It went further than just sight though. If you so much as smelled someone wearing similar cologne to what he normally wore, arousal bells started ringing and you had to sprint home to relieve the ache between your legs.

This time wasn’t any different.

Fluffy, dark brown hair is what you see first, gelled stylishly in effortless waves around his head, save for the small curls on the nape of his neck. When you move your gaze lower, you lock eyes with his, and a spark of curiosity blooms. Then it’s his perfect pink lips set in a cute pout, and rounded jaw that you often stared at when he ate because it made you think of how good he’d be at eating you out. The thoughts start to creep into your mind, and you have no choice but to shake them out and replace them with something else, which so happened to be his outfit…or lack thereof.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, revealing a cute tummy with faint lines and deeply toned biceps. You’d punched him in the stomach once before, and you didn’t need to see abs to know that that man was rock solid. Multicolored neon body paint decorated his torso and back, tiny splatters here and there, but the star of the show is a lime green handprint wrapped around his throat (Jaemins probably). His black sweats also had paint on them, but his combat boots didn’t have a drop of color. If he expected to get out of the frat with them looking spotless, he had another thing coming.

“You do know the theme is neon?” His voice jolts you back into reality, and the blush that was gone finds its way back to your throat and cheeks. You were literally sitting in front of the mirror with a neon pink bralette on, why was he asking you this? Slightly, you nod. “Then why are you staring at me? I know I’m not ripped like Jen or Jaem, but come on, I can rock the dad bod!”

“Haechan. Take this with a grain of salt, but you have a decent body.”

Automatically, the compliment goes to his head, “Wanna see all of it sometime?”

Yes, please.

“No.”

A cheeky smile forms on his lips, “Thought so…”

“I’m actually surprised you’re going. Don’t you have a video game competition or something?” You stand up from your spot in front of the vanity and grab your leather jacket that was laying on the rack beside it.

“I can’t pass up free liquor. You know this.”

For some reason, your outfit seems like its missing something, and desperately your eyes are searching for it… ah! A necklace. You couldn’t go in a frat without some form of jewelry. Unable to reach behind yourself and clasp it, you hold it out to Haechan who doesn’t hesitate to grab it and push your shoulder, so your back was to him. “So, the plan is to get hammered?”

Tender fingers brush aside your hair, a spark igniting in the pit of your stomach. You feel almost giddy at his touch, and you’re not sure you entirely hate it. You anticipate more, and he doesn’t disappoint. His hands reach around your throat, the heavy pendant resting at the base of your throat while his fingers work at the nape of your neck to clasp it.

“The plan is to get absolutely drunk, find a bad bitch and fuck her till the entire house knows my name.” His voice is low, dropping right next to your ear, and the air blowing from his lips makes your shiver into his touch at your neck.

“S-Sounds like a good plan.” you whisper.

What was this boy doing to you?

“Wanna help?”

“H-Help? Help with what? Help you?”

He backs away, hands held out in front of him and a smile cracking his features, “Yeah. Wanna help me find a frat bunny?”

I’m right here.

“Oh, uh, sure.”

“Perfect.” He starts to head out before turning back to you, “You didn’t think I was gonna ask if I could fuck you… did you?”

Your response comes out suspiciously fast, but Haechan had pregamed before stopping at your dorm, and he definitely didn’t catch it, “No! I would never! You’re like… really fucking gross. Sorry Hyuck.”

“Ahhh, theres the Y/N I know!” he claps you on the shoulder, “By the way, Jeno and Jaem are waiting in the car downstairs so hurry up.”

With that, he’s gone, the slamming of the front door resonating deep in the pit of your stomach, your nerves buzzing, and every muscle tense.

This was going to be a long night.

People were already throwing up in the bushes by the time you and the boys arrived, but you’d rather wade through puke than sit in Jeno’s car a second longer.

The entire ride to the frat house was a mess. From being squished between Jaemin and Hyuck, thanks to Jeno reserving the front seat for his precious bottles of Smirnoff and Hennessy (Seriously, he wouldn’t move them. He even buckled them up in case he crashed the car. As if the bottles wouldn’t break.) to having one of said bottles passed around the backseat and promptly spilled all over your upper body; you couldn’t take it anymore.

Unfortunately, the situation was made worse by Haechan's actions. As the cold alcohol spilled all over you, his hands peppered over your body, gliding through the sticky liquid that was rapidly drying. When he touched the lace of your bralette, his fingers inadvertently brushed against your nipple, reigniting the warmth in your stomach.

You really hoped he hadn’t noticed.

Jaemin, on the other hand, kept shoving his arm around to try and garner your attention towards his phone, which had pictures of sorority girls pulled up.

“Which ones should I take back to my place tonight?” He kept asking you, again and again and again until you and his minty breath were quite acquainted.

Needless to say, you wanted out.

So, when the car came to a screeching halt along the sidewalk, you were all but climbing over Jaemins lap to get the door open.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have you all over me, but this isn’t what I meant.” The flirtatious jokes from Jaemin were already starting, but he wasn’t the target tonight, Haechan was.

“Sorry, Haechan’s body odor was starting to get to me.” You send a warm smile to the boy clambering out of Jeno small coupe behind you.

“I literally haven’t even started being mean to you yet, why are you throwing insults?” Haechan stands tall, the heels of his combat boots making him tower over you, “And I’m wearing old spice anyway, this shit lasts ages. You must have been smelling Jaemins dick… I heard it’s quite overused.”

The pink haired boy whips around, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his sweatpants, “Why are you mad I get more pussy than you?”

Jeno thrusts a bottle of alcohol into you and Haechans hands, leaving Jaemin empty handed, who looks at you with a pout. You uncap your bottle, a dark thing of Hennessy, and pass it to him.

Haechan snorts, “Not mad, just annoyed that you keep me up all night with your grunting.”

Jaemin passes the bottle back to you and gives you a wink, but he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, the four of you start walking through the grass and up the steps to the frat house.

The front lawn was littered with red, plastic solo cups, ping pong balls, and empty beer cans. Toilet paper hung around a poorly spray-painted piece of cardboard that read, ‘welcome to the jungle’. College students hung around the porch smoking cigarettes and weed, and somehow a joint ends up between your fingers before you’ve even reached the front door.

“Wanna shotgun that?” Haechan smirks, wiggling his eyebrows when you shove the loosely wrapped blunt between your lips.

Inhaling takes a minute, the burning sensation of the weed filling your lungs and immediately reaching your bloodstream. You blow the smoke directly in Haechans face as a way of declining his offer, though pressing your lips against his and sharing a smoky kiss sounded real good right then.

He waves a hand in front of his face, “Fine. I see how it is.”

Whoever handed you the blunt plucks it out from between your fingers before you can pass it to Haechan and disappears around the side of the house.

“Well, that was mean.” Jaemin sighs defeatedly.

“I’m pretty sure Renjun is inside selling if you want to buy something off of him.” Jeno shouts over his shoulder.

“Fair warning though, he doesn’t roll well.” You spit tiny green pieces of marijuana onto the front walkway and cringe at the taste. There was a reason you didn’t like edibles.

Jeno just nods to the freshman pledge assigned to door duty (a scrawny boy who went by the name of Shotaro) and shoulders the front door of the house. Immediate booming bass finds your chest and rattles through you, the smell of spilled alcohol and cheap drugs clouding the house in a thick smog. Black lights hang from the ceiling, the people loitering near the entranceway glowing brightly in neon oranges, blues, green, yellows, and pinks.

You vaguely notice a few of the brothers roaming around passing out beers to the partygoers, but one in particular notices the four of you crowding the entrance and discards his last beer to a random girl at his side before jogging over.

“Jae!” Jeno and the brother lock hands and embrace, slapping each other’s backs in a way that looked painful.

The only reason you had gotten into the frat parties all year long was because of Jaehyuns and Jeno’s relationship – they were on the hockey team together, and brothers.

Jung Jaehyun was a senior, the head of the most popular frat on campus, NEO, and Jeno’s half-brother. You’d never really interacted with him, but from what you heard, he was a nice guy with an even nicer girlfriend, and they were head over heels in love with each other. You didn’t see her around anywhere, not that you would know what she looked like.

“Looking for someone?” Haechans voice, gravelly and low, finds your ear and makes you shiver despite how hot it was in the house. You hated the way he made your body feel, but not as much as you should have.

“You’re about to be looking out of one eye if you don’t back the fuck up.” Hostility was not your strong suit, but Haechan just drug something out of you.

“Jesus Christ, you need to drink. You’re so much better drunk. A lot nicer.” He smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and you can physically feel your heart beginning to melt.

A little voice in the back of your head is telling you to say, and you’re so much better when you shut up, how about you put that mouth to use between my legs?

But you refrain.

It’s very hard to refrain.

You almost slip.

That is, until you realize Jaehyun has since walked away and left the four of you to party how you please.

“Okay. I’ll be staying sober. Well, as sober as a good couple blunts make me. Please try to stay in the house, it makes it so much easier when it’s time to go and I have to round you jack offs up.” Jeno smirks, handing his bottle of alcohol to Jaemin who gladly takes it.

You’re surprised he hasn’t already gone looking for someone to fuck, it was well known that him and Jaehyun didn’t particularly get along. Something about Jaemin fucking Jaehyuns ex… you didn’t know the full story.

Jeno grabs Haechans bare shoulders, “Please, for the love of God, do not jump in the pool again. Last time you almost drowned and I don’t feel like planning a funeral for your sorry ass.”

“I make no such promises, but I will try my best.” The younger boy beams.

“Alright, go have fun, and try not to catch a STD. I’ll be over with Renjun if you need me.” And with that, your friend Jeno breaks from the group, his neon painted bare back shining brightly amongst the crowd right before he fades in.

Jaemin breaks off almost immediately after chugging the bottle of alcohol Jeno had given him.

Haechan, who wasn’t one for parties and usually stayed holed up in his dorm room playing video games all night, sways by your side awkwardly.

“Aren’t you gonna go find a frat bunny to fuck?” You shout over the blaring music.

He looks almost nervous when he shifts his gaze to you, “I don’t really see anyone of interest… except you of course. Wanna go fuck in the bathroom?” A shit eating grin blinds you right before he lifts the Smirnoff bottle and takes a swig, finishing it with a grimace.

Wouldn’t it be nice to say yes and get his part of the challenge over? Fuck, how you wanted to grab his hand and drag him to the nearest bathroom, but frat parties weren’t the place to hook up, and you wanted to take your time with him anyway.

“I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten-foot pole.”

“You’re telling me you don’t wanna hit this?” He rubs his free hand across his chest and stomach, dipping it so far as to drag down a bit of his sweatpants. A strong V-Line peeks out and you almost choke on air, eyes bugging out of your skull.

“Keep your fucking clothes on Hyuck.” You sputter.

He cocks an eyebrow and reaches out for your hand, which you hesitate to take. What was he doing? Was he trying to bring you into the nearest bathroom?

All he does is tug you towards the main room, an open area full of students dancing, drinking, and smoking, “Interesting… Come on, let’s party.”

The feeling of his calloused fingers enlaced with yours was enough to send your mind spiraling deep into the thoughts that plagued your dreams – like what it would feel like to have them wrapped around your neck, or shoved between your thighs, maybe even down your throat.

Mentally, you tell your brain to shut up (it always did get slutty in these environments).

“Y/N!!” A girly voice shouts off to your left, dragging both you and Haechans attention. Lisa, a girl in the same major as you, who you’ve known for a couple years now, is barreling toward you and the boy you’re linked hand in hand with. She shoves a few partygoers to the side, an opened beer can in her hand which she’s cautious enough not to spill.

When she finally makes it to your side, her eyes dip down and make note of your hands crushed together, a freshly waxed eyebrow popping up in question at you. Immediately you yank your hand away from Haechan, who glares in protest but doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t think I would see you here!” She’s beaming head to toe and slings a paint splattered arm around your shoulders.

You smile back, “Jeno made me come.” She’d had a crush on Jeno for ages, and from the look on her face at the mention of his name, it still existed.

“Oh, he’s here? I didn’t even know!! I need to go find him asap.”

“Well yeah, it’s his brothers party and all…” Haechan pipes up from beside of you, nervously biting at his nails. He always chewed his cuticles unrecognizable.

She looks up at him with a weird expression before extracting her arm and turning to face you, her back to Haechan, who sneers and throws up a middle finger in her direction. It makes you chuckle, but thankfully she doesn’t question it.

“Well, a bunch of us are playing games upstairs if you wanna join.”

You start to say no, but you can tell in her eyes that she wasn’t going to take that as an answer, so you nod your head, “Sure.”

A squeal so loud heads turn, erupts from her mouth, “Good!!! Ima go find Jeno and then head up there. I’ll see you soon.” And with a kiss to your cheek, she’s gone.

“Well, guess we’re playing games.” Haechan huffs, reaching for your hand now that she was gone, “I hope it’s spin the bottle so I can kiss you.”

Me too.

Rolling your eyes, you start towards the stairs, “Haechan?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Haechan didn’t shut up.

In fact, he kept his mouth running all the way up the stairs, through the bodies loitering in the hallway, around a puddle of puke, and into the makeshift living room Lisa must have set up.

Not like you were paying much attention to what he said anyways. Instead, your mind chose to focus on the way his back looked in the dim lighting of the frat house. Underneath a layer of pretty tan skin, the boy was all muscle, stretching and tensing when his lithe legs carried him up the inclined stairs. And when he turned around to make sure you were still following him, despite his hand being attached to yours, you notice the muscles carried all the way around to his abdomen and torso.

Because the house was hot and humid, the paint splattered on his chest was fading and streaking. The neon paint dripped down his body, with some even dribbling into the waistband of his sweatpants. The idea of the paint staining his v-line creates a sensation of warmth in your stomach.

You wanted to see him naked so bad and it made you mad.

What happened to the boy who stayed in his room every day and barely touched vegetables? What happened to him being a friend and just that? Had one night of drinking skewed your common sense? Or was this just a side effect of the challenge you were doing?

Whatever, he’s fucking hot and he has a big dick, you argue with yourself, images of what you saw on his phone flashing through your mind.

Haechan getting his dick sucked by some random girl, forcing her to deepthroat and then whimpering.

The thought alone almost makes you steer him into the nearest bathroom, but the makeshift living room comes too soon.

“I literally can’t get rid of you.” Jaemin perks up from his spot on the floor, bottle of liquor tucked away in his lap.

“Talk to Lisa.” You shoot back flatly.

As you glance around the room, you realize that the only person you recognize is Jaemin. While a few faces seem familiar, you can't recall their names or where you may have seen them before.

Hyuck guides you over to the circle where everyone is seated and takes a spot, leaving you to settle in opposite him. "Looks like it's just you and me," he says with a grin, displaying his gleaming white teeth. You can't help but wonder how they would feel against your inner thighs, and you unconsciously clench them together while crossing your arms.

You didn’t know how long Lisa and Jeno were going to be, or if she was still downstairs recruiting more players, but you’re lucky not to be left alone with your thoughts too long, because a couple minutes later, she, Jeno and Jaehyun (surprisingly) filter into the room, one after the other.

Haechan’s eyes cut to you, and he smirks, eyebrows wiggling in a stupidly suggestive way.

“Okay! Seems like we got enough players.” Lisa pipes up, taking the spot next to you that sat empty (thankfully no one had sat and tried to make acquaintance. you were too sober for that). Jeno sits off to your right, and Jaehyun takes the spot next to Haechan.

Jaemin leans in towards the circle, appearing invested as he asks, "What game are we playing?" His gaze travels up and down Lisa's body, and he licks his lips. You roll your eyes; of course, she was the one he was after tonight. Too bad her eyes were on Jeno.

She gives a short giggle before replying, “How about seven minutes in heaven?”

A low murmur ripples through the circle but affirming head nods set the game in motion.

Honestly, you find the game awkward and childish, something played in your early high school years, but maybe the universe and luck would be on your side tonight.

Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get into Haechans pants? This silly little game was the perfect opportunity.

He seemed to be on the same wavelength because one glance and you see him making kissy faces directed at you.

Why the fuck was he so weird?

And why did you want to crawl across the circle and kiss him?

“Great, can we use that bottle Jaemin?” Lisa asks, and he’s quick to shove it in the middle. He must really want her to come home with him tonight if he’s giving up his alcohol that easily – or the bottle at least.

Lisa takes a finger and spins the bottle, the handle flying around so fast it looked like a blur. You hold your breath, silently praying it doesn’t land on you. You could probably hear a pen drop in the room (plus the thumping bass coming up through the floorboards).

It comes to a standstill, pointing at a random girl you’ve never seen before. She looks nervous, but that was to be expected, right?

Lisa spins the bottle again and you thank your lucky stars when it lands on another girl in the circle.

Two girls down, about 12 of you left.

The next few rounds follow a similar pattern, with two unfamiliar people being chosen and then awkwardly leaving the circle. At some point Jaemin and a blonde headed bimbo filter off to surely fuck.

The game starts to feel pointless, but then the bottle lands on you.

Haechan immediately perks up from being previously slumped against a pillow. The bottle of Smirnoff by his side was slowly draining, and you could tell he was feeling it a bit. A rosy blush spread itself on his cheeks and his eyes shined bright. An eager look crosses his face when Lisa tips the bottle into spinning.

Whoever it landed on was going to be shoved in a tiny closet with you for the next seven minutes. Time ticked slow, your eyes following it’s every move.

Spinning.

And spinning.

And stop.

“No fucking way.” Haechan pouts.

Your eyebrows raise, a short, disbelieving laugh rushing past your lips. The bottle has landed between Jaehyun and Haechan, more towards the latter, but nearly dead set between.

“Well, who is it then?” Haechan urges, pushing himself up on his knees, “Cause it’s more towards me, so I think it’s only fair…”

“Maybe by a single degree.” Jaehyun argues, locking his eyes with yours and giving a lopsided smile.

It strikes you as odd that Jaehyun, who you're pretty sure has a girlfriend (Jeno had mentioned her once or twice), is even participating in the game. Despite this, he seems to be making eyes at you, smiling with deep dimples and winking. You just stare back at him, causing the tips of his ears to flush red. You weren’t going to be the cause of a scandal if he was, in fact, still dating that girl.

So the dilemma (that wasn’t really a dilemma) dawns on you. Your best friend or the boy who (maybe) had a girlfriend? You contemplate storming out of the room and forfeiting the game – but what was the fun in that? And anyways, Haechan looked like he was getting antsy.

“Come on Hyuck.” you grumble, pushing yourself up off the dusty floor and slipping out into the semi-crowded hallway. The boy eagerly follows on your heel until you’re shouldering a random door and slipping into a dark room.

It feels much bigger than the closet you were envisioning, though where was the fucking light? Both of you search the walls to no avail. Faintly, you see the outline of a bed and walk over to it, dropping down on the sunken mattress – Haechan following your lead.

“What a coincidence that it’s you and me. I mean, I knew you wanted to fuck me, but seriously, how did you rig a spin the bottle game?”

In this moment you’re glad for the darkness enveloping the room – then he wouldn’t see the shock and embarrassment flooding your face.

Defensively, you shove his chest, “Shut up. I didn’t rig the game.”

The smirk is almost evident in his tone, “Oh, but you do wanna fuck me?”

“No – Haechan I wanted to play a game. Of course fate would give me your ass.”

“Maybe fate wants us to hook up.” he murmurs.

I’d agree with fate then, you think.

A million thoughts flood your mind in a millisecond. How convenient it was that you were stuck in an empty room, with a bed, with Hyuck – with a shirtless Hyuck. The dim lighting outlines the contours of his chest, and you can feel yourself clenching your thighs together for what felt like the umpteenth time.

“Would you like that?” You whisper, slightly leaning closer to him. He wasn’t that far away. Maybe a foot at most.

“Is the sky blue?” He retorts, ever so slightly leaning into you too.

You roll your eyes, “Is that a trick question – because it’s nighttime right now and the sky is black.”

“I don’t know, maybe you should kiss me and find out.”

His voice is lower than normal, which surprises you. But not as much as the statement. You knew he was like this – forward and flirty. Though it’s different when you actually want to reciprocate.

Time slows down and the electricity of the moment surrounds you two. His lips are inching towards your own, long, slender fingers grabbing your thighs.

Fuck, it’s happening – Everything you’ve been dreaming about for weeks on end. How did this happen so fast?

You can smell the alcohol on his breath – wondering if he’ll taste sweet like brandy.

“Hyuck…” you whisper, “ I-“

Light and sound flood the room, startling the fuck outta you and making you jump three feet back into the headboard.

“Oh shit –” the partygoer curses.

The girl on his arm giggles, “’m sorry. Didn’t mean to barge in on you two!” They slam the door, and the muffled sounds of the party bring you back to the present.

Yellow spots cloud your vision as you fumble to stand up, almost tripping over what you can assume to be a backpack.

You swallow thickly, “Let’s go back downstairs.”

“I’ll meet you down there.” Haechan whispers, one hand running through his hair, “You go on ahead.”

Without another word, you slip into the hallway and slink down the stairs – into the hands of hundreds of drunk college kids. You see Jaemin taking shots and Jeno smoking it up with Renjun.

What the fuck just happened.

And why did I ruin it.

After a good twenty minutes away from each other, you realize he was the only person who you cared to hang out with. So, you found him utterly intoxicated on the kitchen floor and forced him to dance with you.

Well really you just forced him off the kitchen floor which he really didn’t want to leave, but once he was up and moving, he took you by hand and made the night worthwhile.

Now two hours later, with most of the alcohol Jeno had supplied gone, all you can think about is sucking Haechans dick.

It’s because of the way he danced (and smelled, and looked, and…). His hands reach out and greedily grab at your waist, fingers twisting through the empty belt loops of your jeans. A bit of the paint he had on was smudged against you, thanks to him pulling you into a bear hug earlier in the night.

He was drunk, and it made him extra touchy. Though you didn’t mind, in fact, you welcomed it now that your resolve was slipping. So, when he pushes you against the wall, one hand held high over your head, his other circling your jaw, it’s no surprise that your heartbeat goes wild. A blush rises hot on your face; his eyes finding yours and piquing with dull amusement.

“I gotta tell you a secret-” he slurs, swaying in your arms. He thinks for a minute before putting a hand over his mouth, “Wait, I can’t tell you.” When you don’t respond, instead, electing to stare at him in amusement, his lips jut out into a pout, “Why don’t you like me?”

One of your hands pushes against his slick with sweat chest, “I do like you?” Your breathing becomes labored when his lips pull back in a sloppy grin.

“You like me? You like me!!” Haechan teeters a bit to the left, almost falling into another couple that were vigorously making out, “They need to get a room… we need to get a room.”

We had a room.

“We need to get a room?” You question, eyes widening when he leans in so close he’s only an inch away from kissing you.

“Can I kiss you?”

It feels like the room comes to a crescendo, every sound clashing yet becoming silent at the same time. All you can think about is his mouth and how pretty and pink his lips are. How it would be heaven to meld into the strong grasp of your best friend. How the constant nights of intimate dreams of him weren’t enough to satisfy you. How you should have taken him up on his offer in that damn room.

How you wanted to go to that damn bathroom now.

But this was wrong.

The wrong time, wrong place, wrong everything.

You were drunk, he was more than drunk, and surely that would affect whether you thought he fucked the best.

From around his shoulder, you spot Jeno staring at you with a beer in his hand – so much for staying sober. He’s smirking, slightly chuckling, and cocking his eyebrows at you as if asking, ‘you gonna kiss him?’

“Haechan.”

The boy has gone from being semi coherent to humming some sort of song that wasn’t even close to the one that was playing.

“Haechan!” you shake his shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of the stupor, and suddenly he stands up tall.

“Y/N, I missed you!!! What are you doing here?” It was like he was seeing you for the first time.

He was too drunk to function. You should have expected as much, but you’re still slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to go forth with your plan.

You sigh and grab his arm, the disappointment nearly sobering you up, “Let’s go find Jeno and get you home, okay?”

His eyes go frantic, “We can’t forget Jaemin! We have to find Jaemin!!!”

“Don’t worry Hyuck, I’d leave you here sooner than I would him.”

Maybe then I wouldn’t have the urge to ride you on the frats sofa.

“Meanie.”

Steaming bags of takeout hang off your arm as you fumble to push your way through the unusually small dorm door.

“Hyuck! Jaemin!” you yell, hoping one of them would dart out of their room and help you with the load of cheap food you were threatening to drop on the ground. You shouldn’t be surprised when all is silent except for the smash of controller buttons and Haechans frustrated screech.

You wade through the mess that nearly makes you gag – piles of clothes, dirty socks and mud caked shoes. Books and pages of lecture notes litter the ground accompanied with crushed RedBull cans – evidence that Haechan did indeed leave his room at some point.

“Yo, you really need to clean this shit up.” you pantomime throwing up and toss the bags of takeout on Haechans dark blue bedspread that was actually made for once.

His back is to you, eyes trained on the video game he was playing, giving you a half-hearted grunt to acknowledge what you said. The too-big headset threatens to engulf his head, nearly sliding off as he jolts forward in the gaming chair.

“Fuck! Fuck! No… no… don’t… SHIT!” Exasperation floods his tone once the screen turns completely red and his character returns to the main lobby. “You guys suck ass.”

Without hearing their response, he shuts off his monitor and spins around to face you, who was patiently waiting on his bed, “Sorry. I woulda got the door for ya, but…” he gestures behind himself.

“It’s fine.” you mumble.

His eyes travel from your face and to the short ass skirt that was slung over your hips. Immediately your face heats up. Why was this awkward? Does he even remember what happened last night? How you almost kissed in some random frat bros room? Or how he had you pressed up against the wall, asking to kiss you. Does he remember the drive home? How he laid in your lap, drunkenly massaging your thighs? Surely he had to remember you tucking him into bed with the promise of takeout tomorrow night?

But when you look him in the eyes, you just see your friend eager to eat – not someone who you nearly fucked last night.

You clear your throat, “Um, where’s Jaemin?”

Haechan shrugs and starts sifting through the boxes of rice and pork cutlets, “He left early this morning. Said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Bet that means he’s going to get some pussy.” He takes a bite of rice and speaks through the mouthful, “Twenty four hours though? That’s a long ass time for him.”

You snort and take the box of rice he was gesturing towards you, “Nah, that’s light work for Jaem. As long as he lets us know he’s alive, I think a sex bender might be best for him.”

“You know, he’s still mad that you wouldn’t let him leave with that girl last night.” Haechans laugh rings through the room, making you smile. He had such a pretty voice.

“He was drunker than the both of us combined.” You tear the end of a soy sauce packet and dump it into the container in your lap. “Speaking of, what do you remember from last night? Did you, like, totally black out?”

“Not much, just that you were coming over today.” He says through another mouthful of food.

Great, so he didn’t remember anything. How convenient for you.

“Well… you ended up peeing on this guy when we were leaving because you missed the bush.”

“I missed the bush?”

“The whole bush.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

The food was long gone, with empty containers flooding his trashcan that begged to be taken out.

You were bored.

Here you were, laying on his bed with a lowcut shirt and a fucking miniskirt, and he was back to playing his game.

For the past hour you tried to get him to join you, but to no avail. Who knew that your first target would be the hardest to fuck? How can you accurately judge how good he fucked if he wouldn’t even lay on the bed with you?

One last chance or you were leaving.

This was an all or nothing moment.

“I’m horny.” It was a declaration. A statement so bold, he turns ever-so-slightly towards you and raises an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

You scoff, “You heard me. I need to fuck someone or something.”

The squeak of his chair rings through the uncomfortably silent room as he adjusts himself. What was he thinking? Was he disgusted? Flustered? Did he feel the same?

“Well now that you mention it…” he swallows thickly. Was it hot in his room? Could you feel it too?

You push yourself up into a sitting position, “Come help me.” His dark brown eyes flutter, the tops of his cheeks dusting a light pink color, but he stays silent. "No smart reply? No sexual comments? Did I really fluster the Lee Haechan?"

He gets up from his gaming chair, almost toppling over in the process and spilling the can of Redbull he was clutching onto for dear life. "I am not flustered. " The mattress dips under his weight as he gets comfortable next to you, his gaze falling to the lowcut shirt you wore, "Can’t I touch them if you’re serious?”

His bottom lip juts out in a pout, obviously joking around (your boobs always seemed to be the butt of his sexual comments), but even still, you find yourself removing your shirt before you can think.

The look on his face is priceless, wide eyes almost bugging out of his skull, “I was kidding! Jesus Christ Y/N, put your shirt back on!” his voice has somehow pitched up two octaves, obviously taken aback, but for some reason his eyes remain open and transfixed. It looks as if he’s almost salivating, especially when he watches your nipples perk up from how cool he kept his room.

Reaching out a hand, you clasp his wrist and bring it closer to your body, “But I’m serious.” The bewildered expression never left his face, even when you had him cup his palm around your breast, and then when he took matters into his own hands and gave you a fair squeeze, which made you giggle.

“Am I dreaming? This must be a dream?”

You hop up on your knees, making your tits bounce in the process which drops Haechan’s jaw, “Not a dream, very much reality.”

Slowly and sexily, you crawl towards his seated position beside you, “I want you Haechan.” You breathe the words out slowly, giving him time to comprehend what the fuck his best friend just said.

Confusion flits across his face and he hesitates, “But Y/N…”

“But what? I want you. I want you to fuck me.” His pupils blew wide at the confession.

“Y/N… I can’t.”

Disappointment fills your heart and deflates your ego in a millisecond. You should have known. How could you be so stupid? Of course, he didn’t want to fuck you. You were best friends for fucks sake. It would ruin everything. Why did you even try? Because you were drunk and horny the night the challenge was first brought up? Pathetic, really.

Haechan must have seen the worry and doubt fill your eyes because all of a sudden, he’s grabbing your shoulders, “No, It’s… It’s not because I don’t want to,” His eyes wash over your half naked body, and he licks his lips, “Trust me, I want to…but I’m…I’m.”

Leaning in ever so slightly you whisper, “You’re what? Scared?”

It was a taunt, a tease, a challenge, and he knew it, but he just shakes his head, “Y/N… I’m a virgin.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked, completely taken aback by this new revelation, “You’re a… virgin?”

Pink tints his cheeks and collarbones peeking through his oversized t-shirt, and he hangs his head to avoid eye contact, “Yeah, I’ve never had… never had sex.”

“But you always say –”

“I talk a big game, okay?” The reply rushes from his lips, embarrassment kicking him in the ass, “Yeah I’ve gotten head before, and I’ve eaten a few girls out, but I’ve never had actual sex. It’s… just never happened I guess.”

Here you were, trying to seduce not only your best friend, but your best friend that has just told you he was a virgin. You were trying to steal a virgins innocence. How fucked could you really be?

To be fair, he always acted like he got hella pussy, you argue with yourself.

“Jaemin knows.” He mutters, as if it was of any relevance to the situation.

“Well,” You start, sitting back on your heels, “Here I am shirtless, asking you to fuck me…” His eyes flicker up and lock with yours, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Another challenge.

He did well with challenges, and this time was no different.

You continue, “Unless you believe the ‘only have sex after marriage’ bullshit –”

“Absolutely not.”

Greedy eyes search for an answer on his face, but there’s nothing, only a permanent blush and frantic furrow brows, “Okay, then do you wanna go back to gaming?”

“…No.”

He still isn’t advancing, just sitting with his hands dropped into his lap and looking at you with his wide doe eyes, “Then what?”

You sit there, watching as Haechan fidgets with his hands, clearly nervous about what comes next. The sexual tension that hangs between you two feels like a thick fog. You want him, and you can tell that he wants you too, but the knowledge that he’s a virgin puts a damper on things.

You don't want to be the one to take his virginity. That's a big fucking responsibility, and it's not something that you take lightly. You start to wonder if maybe you should just call it a night and go home. But then Haechan speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be a virgin anymore."

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you turn to look at him, really look at him for the first time since you arrived. He looks vulnerable, and you can see the fear in his eyes. But you can also see the determination. He knows what he wants, and he's not going to let anything stand in his way.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You know what you want too, but you also know that this is a big deal. You can't just jump into things without thinking them through. "I don't know if I'm the right person for that, Haechan," you say finally. "Taking someone's virginity is a big deal. It's not something to be taken lightly."

Haechan nods, his eyes still locked with yours. "I know. But I trust you, Y/N." His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

"Okay," you say finally. "Okay, we can do this.”

Somehow, the tables had turned on you; and this was getting a lot sappier than you had anticipated.

The awkwardness settles back into the room, Haechan staring at you with his doe eyes, the nervousness flitting about his delicate features.

It’s a beat – a short pause before he speaks so low you almost miss it, “You know I want to fuck you.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Maybe he’d give you a logical answer and you’d understand; put your shirt back on and let him get back to his video games while you silently scrolled Instagram.

But when was he ever logical?

And when were you ever one to back down?

Faster than you can register, he’s pushing your shoulders backwards until you fall breathlessly against his pillow. He climbs over top of you, his usual goofy smirk replaced with an intensity you both had felt the night before at the frat house. “Nothing’s stopping me.” His breath tickles your cheeks, “But I can’t tell if you’re fucking serious or taking a joke way too far.” A scoff rumbles in his chest, “I’ve damn near bared my soul to you tonight.”

“Not a joke-” you try to argue, but he talks over you.

“Ya know, just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean you can treat me like a plaything.” his head lolls to the side, “Well I mean if you wanted to, you could – but that’s not the point..” He sighs, pressing his face closer to yours, so that you were almost nose to nose. One more inch and you’d be kissing him, “I’m trying to say that if this is a joke… I’m sorry, but I’m gonna fuck you.”

“I – Are you sure about this? You won’t regret anything in the morning?”

He scoffs, “Have you not been listening to me when I speak to you? I’ve been wanting this for ages,” Eyes, half-lidded with desire, wash over your exposed chest, “I’m not gonna regret a damn thing.”

The butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably when Haechan dips his head and captures your lips in a kiss. All you can taste is the fizziness of the redbull he’d been drinking earlier, and something undeniably him. It was urgent and wet, lips sliding over yours to deepen the kiss, dribbles of spit smearing on your cheeks. He was messy.

“No regrets.” You solidify, breath hitching in your throat when his hands cup your breasts – his thumbs flicking over your nipples.

He groans, hips desperately pushing against you, “Let me eat you out.” he asks, though it wasn’t really a question because he starts to lower himself down your figure; pressing wet kisses to your chest. First it’s your collarbone, then the swell of your breasts, all the way down until he hovered right above your skirt.

Your head is reeling with how forward he was, “You’re kinda bold for a vir-”

He slaps a rough hand over your jaw, “If you even so much as utter that word, I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat you won’t be able to speak for a week.” Tauntingly, he quirks an eyebrow as if to dare you, “And anyways,” he continues, moving his hand up to ruffle your hair, “Just because I’ve never stuck my dick between a woman’s thighs doesn’t mean I don’t know how to please one.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, in shock or contemplation of his words, you weren’t sure.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that baby,” Lust drips from his words like venom, the pet name rolling off his tongue a little too certainly, “Sitting up here playing video games has made me exceptionally good with my hands,” he smirks, “and I guess I’m naturally good with my tongue… I don’t know, you’ll have to tell me, yeah?”

Furiously, you nod your head, eyes wide and marveling at this side of Haechan. The one slightly out of breath and bursting with the need to taste you. He was hot. More so than you were expecting. You should pay closer attention sometimes.

He doesn’t waste time undoing your skirt. Instead, he pushes it up until it bunched at your waist, and pretty pink panties were the only thing blocking him from doing what he wanted. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he pulls them down agonizingly slow. “So pretty.” he whispers.

Without hesitation, he flattens his tongue and licks up your slit, a low rumble building in his chest. You tasted exactly like he had imagined.

The contact makes you gasp, and you fumble around for something to hold onto – choosing his hair as the only viable option. One tug and he’s whining against your clit, hips pressing into the bed unbeknownst to you.

“Y-you like hair pulling?” You question, doing it again to test the waters. He doesn’t answer, just groans against your pussy, tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Strong arms hook underneath your hips and pull hard, until you’re sat right up against his face.

“Hyuck.” you whimper, legs shaking. He was relentless, nosing your clit and fucking you with his tongue – all but lapping at the embarrassing amount of arousal wetting the inside of your thighs. “Hyuck!”

He perks up, lips puffy and jaw shining in the dim light of his bedroom, “What?”

You feel almost shy at his stare, a blush settling over your cheeks and burning hot at the back of your neck, “D-don’t wanna cum just yet.” You stutter out.

Surprisingly, he rolls his eyes, “Let me stretch you out a little bit, okay baby?” There’s no time for you to respond because two of his fingers press against your entrance and slide in with ease. Simultaneously he dives back in, teeth slightly grazing your clit.

“Fuck!” Your back arches up off the bed, hips rolling against his face. His fingers pump into you, the stretch leaving your thighs shaking.

“See baby, all done,” He slips his fingers out and gives you one final suckle, “God, I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Words are unattainable right now, head still reeling from how fucking good he was with his tongue. That’s where he’d gotten the most practice, but you weren’t expecting that. It was what – less than two minutes? Yet you were already fucked out, body buzzing with excitement. If that was just the beginning, what was to come?

While lost in your thoughts, Haechan rid himself of his shirt and shimmied his shorts down.

The video didn’t do him justice.

Yeah, he looked decently big on his phone screen, but after weeks of contemplation, you could only assume it was the angle.

Oh, how wrong you were.

His cock stood thick and heavy, proudly slapping his lower stomach when he moves to throw his clothes on the floor. It was red and leaking pre-cum, and your mouth waters. Oh, how you wanted to hop up and stuff him down your throat. You wanted to milk him until he was shaking and sobbing for you to stop.

But another part wanted him in you, now.

Deep lines of muscle were etched into his torso – contracting when he leant down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on his lips, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. Haechan was whimpering; all but shaking against you. The vibrations shot straight into your veins like a drug and when he pulls back and sits on his knees, you almost moan.

You are no better than a man.

Watching the way he touches his body, so soft and careful; tugging at his cock impatiently while his eyes are transfixed on the way your pussy clenches around nothing – it sends a desperate signal down between your thighs.

“Enough!” You whine, “Want you in me.”

His trademark smirk appears on his face, “Okay baby… but..,” he chews on his bottom lip in hesitation, “… I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last..”

“I don’t care!” You wail, annoyed, “Fuck me.”

“So demanding,” He huffs, hands fumbling to push your thighs apart. Looking to you for reassurance that everything was alright, he appeared somewhat uncertain and hesitant.

“It’s okay, ” you breathe, gasping when he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance. “Hold my hand!” It was a statement to make him feel surer of himself, but deep down, you knew it was because you were just as nervous.

Shakily, his hand slides into yours and pushes it against the pillow next to your head. He takes a deep breath. This is silly, he chides himself, just stick it in! You’ve been dreaming about this forever! Be a fucking man.

Slowly, he pushes himself fully into you while still maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck!” you both curse at the same time. His eyes flicker in the back of his head, lips trembling when he bottoms out, now sheathed inside your warm cunt. It’s taking everything in him not to cum right there – and you know it too. He stays like that for a minute longer – not moving, just processing.

“Hyuck…” You whimper, resting your legs on his back. He mumbles a mhm, too focused on steadying his breathing, getting his bearings, finding the will to actually fuck you. “Hyuck, you have to move.”

“M-maybe we should use a c-condom.” He stutters, eyelashes fluttering and tangling together. The interlocked grip on your hands falters when you rut your hips up against him. “F-fuck, we need to use a condom.” His breathing is labored as he tries to gather everything he’s feeling and seeing at once. The way your pussy sucks him in, squeezing around his length just fucking right, the feeling of your nipples brushing his chest every time he bottoms out, and the wet kisses being pressed to the juncture between his neck and collarbone. It was making his head dizzy, and he can feel himself already about to – “I’m gonna cum if you keep, fuck – y/n, stop kissing my n-neck.”

Lost in the satisfying pleasure of him stretching you out, you hadn’t even realized you were kissing him – everywhere. Licking at the place just below his earlobe, suckling bruises into the honey gold skin of his throat, and nipping at his jaw. And every time your lips or tongue grazed him, he shallowly thrusted into you – too caught up in the sensations to get a steady rhythm.

You purse your lips in a pout, pulling your head back to rest on the pillow, and stare up at him, “Why stop if you like it.”

“Good p-point.” He stutters out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Maybe that would hide the pink tinging his cheeks – the embarrassment. Or maybe it was because he wanted to be enveloped by you completely. “Fuck,” He groans, his cock dragging against your walls with a concentrated pace – like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. And if that was the case, he was succeeding.

You mewl and moan every time he slips out of you, just to fuck into you deeper than before. Time doesn’t pass, you don’t register anything but the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach – one that catches you off guard. As you arch your body into his touch, your mind begins to cloud.

Words of praise spill from your lips uncontrollably, "You're doing so well," you murmur, and he whimpers. “So good Hyuckie,” You moan, feeling his head still buried in your neck. “Keep going, baby.” The encouragement rips a broken sob from his throat, but he keeps driving his cock between your legs. He couldn’t stop – how could he? You were like his own personal brand of heroin.

His voice comes out muffled when speaks, “Want you to- fuck.. need you to...” His fingers are trembling, jaw slacked as he forgets his train of thought, “Slow down, wait – I need you to, y/n.. oh fuck this.” a rush of air tickles your body as Haechan tightens his hold and flips you over; worming his way underneath your body so that your legs were now slotted over his waist, cock still pushing into you. “There we go,” he mutters.

The action sends your head spinning, and a squeal rips from your throat. “Woah!”

“Woah!” he mocks, bullying his cock into you at such a fast pace, you were battling to keep your balance. His hands held onto your hips so tightly, there were bound to be a few fingerprint shaped bruises tomorrow morning. But that didn’t matter – not when he was burying his length into you again and again and again, abusing your g-spot to the point you’re babbling nonsense.

Your thighs are quivering on either side of him, struggling to keep yourself bouncing on his cock. Equally shaky hands pepper his chest in an attempt to hold onto something as the fire in your stomach burns hotter. Every whimper, every sob, every moan that falls past his lips is like another burning ember – shooting and twisting through your veins.

“G-gonna cum, Hyuck, gonna – “ you mewl, clawing at his collarbones and shoulders.

A harsh slap lands on your ass as he continues to piston his hips up underneath you. Just hearing you say the words edges him even closer to his own orgasm, “Please baby, cum – shit, cum on my cock, you can do it.” He groans through gritted teeth. Another smack lands, “God, I know you can do it.”

Your eyes roll back as you completely fall apart – he never stopped fucking into you. Not even when you all but collapsed on top of him, heartbeat erratic and gasping for breath. Not even when you begged him to slow down, begged him to give you a chance to recover, maybe get into a different position.

“Just give me one second baby, fuck, I still need to cum,” Like a lightbulb went off, he perks, “Wait- where do you want me t-to cum,” He’s rocking his body into yours now, sweat rolling down his temple with the exertion of holding back. “An-Answer! I can’t hold it anymore you feel too fucking good.”

Swirled in your own euphoria, you barely register his words, yet you manage to whimper against his neck, “Cum in me Hyuckie, please, I’m on the pill.”

The permission is all he needs, but the nickname is what sends him straight into a head high that has him burying his cock deep in you and releasing. Strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you against his shaking body while spurts of cum flood your pussy. He sounds exactly like he did in the video he showed you a few weeks ago – like he was sobbing with relief. Whining and whimpering, lolling his head side to side as he fucks the last of his cum deep into you.

He tries not to move, he tries really fucking hard, but every time you twitched, it squeezed around him again and again – curses flying from his body as he tried to squirm away. He slips out of you quickly, cum smearing on his belly and all over your thighs, “That was…”

You can hear his heartbeat – almost as erratic as yours is, and he’s puffing air, trying to catch an even breath. Both of you are sticky and tired – worn the fuck out. If you tried to push yourself off of him, you think you might topple over, so you don’t. You stay locked in his embrace, listening to the way his breathing slows and chest thumps.

“That was what?”

He runs a hand through his hair, “Everything I’ve dreamt of.”

Giggling, you snuggle closer to him. Who knew he’d be the type to sweet talk after sex. With how much he boasted and teased, you thought he’d be more… you don’t know… arrogant? You liked this side of him though.

Ah, shut up! you think to yourself, you’re not falling in love with him, so stop.

Haechan was a friend no matter if he did just fuck your brains out.

“Gonna go to the bathroom.” you mumble. Anything to get away from him and the swirls of ooey-gooey feelings.

Clambering off of him proved to be easier than you thought earlier, and the wobble to the bathroom was only slightly embarrassing. You thank God for privacy when you shut the door behind you.

As you look at your reflection in the mirror, you realize how much of a mess you are. Your hair is disheveled, mascara smudged and streaking, and your lipstick is smeared. Dark colored hickies scattered across your chest and collarbones. Despite this, you feel satisfied and content (Regardless of any stupid feelings that might be lingering).

Yet if Hyuck were to sneak in the bathroom behind you and beg for another round, you’d give it to him, no matter if the original challenge was a one and done kind of deal.

Your eyes widen into saucers… the challenge.

It was actually done – or at least partially.

You smirk.

Challenge 1/3 complete.

Maybe you should have stayed the night, but you were gone before the sun peeked over the tree line.

Haechan was still faintly snoring when you had slipped out from underneath the covers, and he only slightly stirred when you accidentally banged your toe on his gaming chair. His parted lips, and tinged cheeks made him look like an innocent angel.

One that you corrupted.

As you hurriedly walk back to your dorm building, you can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt fluttering about your stomach.

“Was this really a one-time thing?” he had asked right before his eyes had fluttered closed.

You had sighed, fidgeting with a thread on his comforter, “I don’t know Hyuck… maybe… I – I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Perhaps his shoulders had deflated with disappointment at your response, but you’d like to think he was just tired.

“Okay, let’s pretend it never happened then. Everything can go back to normal and… and if you want, I’ll be here to satisfy you again.” He had grinned then, although rather grim.

“Deal.”

You shoulder your dorm door and drop your bag on the kitchen table before grabbing a water out of the fridge. Thirstily gulping, you realize that even though it was his first time, he knew how to wear you out.

Points for that, you think.

You quietly slip into your room and take a seat at your desk after tossing the crushed plastic bottle into the trashcan. This is the moment you've been waiting for - a chance to rate the very first boy in the challenge. You grab a stray notebook from a stack nearby, open it to a fresh page, and begin.

Points for doing good his first time…Points for multiple positions…Points for eating you out first…Points for being whiny…Points for being eager…

There wasn’t really a system for your rating, but you take a satisfied look at the number and nod your head.

Congratulation Hyuck, you’ve received a 7.4/10, you think.

Despite it being his first time, he did exceptionally well. Who else could have lasted as long as he did, said the things he did, or fucked the way he did. Slowly, you find yourself slipping back into the memories, a play-by-play from start to finish – until a ping from your pocket drags you out.

Your heart leaps up in your throat.

What if it was him? What if he was asking why you left?

When you pull your phone out from your back pocket, you sigh in relief. It was just Jaemin.

You toss your phone onto your desk and slump against the chair. Jaemin didn’t press the question of why you were up… and hopefully he didn’t say anything during breakfast.

Pushing yourself upright, you dance through the laundry strewn across your floor and into the bathroom.

Despite what you said, you also had to wash the sex smell away. God, you were becoming just like Jaemin. Up at the ass crack of dawn to shower off cum and sweat and spit. Unexpectedly, you grip the shower curtain as a thought bounces around the inside of your skull.

Na Jaemin was just getting his dick wet… with Yeji, of all people. One of his recurring fwb situations.. But.. he was fucking her.

The video he had showed you the first night flashes through your brain. His cock thick and proud, pushing into the girl so fluidly, so rhythmically, so intensely. Until she squirted and he laughed. He had fucking laughed. You remember what he had said, “God you’re so fucking hot. NaNa did that, didn’t he? Mhm…come here pretty girl.”

And even though Haechan had pounded you into the next week, you feel yourself clenching around nothing.

Don’t worry Jaemin, your turn is next.

did you like it? if you did, consider leaving me a like, a reblog, a review, or some feedback in my askbox :)

A. NOTE | big thank you to lou, @peachjaem00, for helping me get over my writers block for this fic.. and for just being fucking awesome! i love you <3

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#nct smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #haechan smut #nct haechan smut #haechan x reader #nct dream smut #nct 00 line series #nct 00 line smut #nct 00 line x reader #nct dream haechan smut

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ambrozjas · 8 months ago

Note

HII!! i saw in your bio that your requests are closed but i also see you responding to asks??? so i'm sosososo sorry if i wasn't supposed to ask but i just needed the gang (separate) x super energetic n positive reader (so like pinkie pie irl !) :3 again im sorry if i confused things with your requests!!!

the gang with an energetic!reader ꨄ︎

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

this is actually a great question and i thank you for asking it ^-^!! the reqs i’m responding to are just requests that are stacked up in my inbox, so when i have them closed, it just means i’m trying to catch up on asks and that i don’t prefer asks at that time :) i did LOVE writing this though, so thank you for asking about that i appreciate you trying to respect it !! ^_^ 🫶

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

let me know if there r any i need to add!!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“you had fun today?” came DARRY’s voice from the left of you as he sat in the driver’s seat, taking you home. you guys had decided to take johnny, sodapop, and ponyboy to the oklahoma state fair, which would explain the sleepiness that laced his tone. you, though, would practically be vibrating in your seat if it wasn’t for darry’s hand resting on your thigh.

still pumped up from the crazy rides at the fair, your eyes roamed across all the bright lights littering the city as you looked out of the car window.

“so much.” you responded, beaming at your boyfriend next to you before taking a look in the rearview mirror and spotting the boys asleep in the backseat.

“you think they did, too?” you asked darry, lips pouting dramatically at how cute the boys looked, even when soda was practically drooling on pony.

darry gave you a small ‘mhm’, a tiny smile growing on his face when he looked back at them too. “y’sure you’re not tired?”

“i’m so awake right now, dare.” you chuckled a bit, turning back around and resting your head against the car seat’s headrest.

you gave a few quiet ‘ooh’s as you both were still exiting oklahoma city, even if you guys were still a long way from tulsa, looking at all the bright lights and arrows urging future customers to visit the fair.

darry scoffed as he saw the pile of cars across the way, lining up in one big traffic jam. then he turned his head to look at you, he wondered how you could always be so optimistic. he smiled fondly to himself as he watched you, head held in your hands as the exotic lights bounced off your irises, reflecting all sorts of neon pinks and blues in your eyes as you didnt take them off the noisy attractions.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“be careful now darlin’, you’ll slip!” SODAPOP laughs as you two come down from the intense food fight you just had in the kitchen.

it all started with you accidentally dusting the counters a bit too hard when some flour landed on sodapop’s open plaid shirt. now you two were both covered in various ingredients, you’re sure the yolk would take about an hour to rinse out of your hair properly. the baking you guys were doing was forgotten in the background as the batter had probably already somewhat hardened during sodapop’s sugar assault on your favorite top.

you laughed as he held your waist, the both of you looking down at where your foot was just about to fall on the slippery remainder of egg yolk and milk on the kitchen floor. “that’s your mess!”

“you started it!”

“it was an accident, soda—!” sodapop placed a chaste kiss against your lips, licking his own after he pulled away. he made a small hum sound as his eyes trailed upward when he pretended to try to guess the flavor. “hm, strawberry.”

“gross.” you rolled your eyes, the two of you laughing uncontrollably as soda eventually did slip on the exact same piece of yolk he had warned you from stepping on. that is, until you heard the strong footsteps of his older brother make his way from the front door to the kitchen.

both of your heads shot up as darry cleared his throat, crossing his arms and tilting his head. it was like he had no words for the both of you, until he shook his head once and grumbled angrily.

“y’all better clean that up.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“so i was just tellin’ her about it and y’know what this lady does?” you ranted to PONYBOY as he sat across from you at the lunch table, his fingers fiddling with the holes in the metal mesh patterned seat.

he held his chin in his palm as his eyes flickered between you and the table, watching as you rambled about something a counselor had reprimanded you for or something, all he could really focus on was you. the way your eyes lit up when you were passionate about something, the way talked with your hands a lot, or the way you bounced in your seat at just the thought of your favorite song.

pure energy always radiated off of you, not even dallas winston could resist your charm. and ponyboy curtis certainly couldn’t either.

“pony-y!” you dragged out the ‘y’ in his name as you tried to get his attention, waving a hand in front of his face. he blinked and furrowed his brows as he muttered out a quick, “huh?”

“are you even listenin’ to me?”

“‘course i am.”

“what was i talking about then?” you batted your eyelashes as you inquired in a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone, leaning forward as ponyboy averted your gaze.

his face got hot while he stammered, mouth gaping open and closed like a fish before you waved a hand at him and flashed a big grin.

“my counselor.” came your sing-song tone of voice from in front of him.

“right! just.. tell me more?”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“JOHNNY, wait up!” you called after him, jogging up and gripping onto the straps of your backpack as it moved with your every step.

you saw him, head hung low as he looked so small compared to the towering figure of dallas winston right next to him. he turned around, that same puppy dog look in his eyes as usual before he looked up at dallas. dally gave johnny a quick wink before nodding his head towards me and saying his goodbyes while he walked off only god knows where—probably to stir up some more trouble.

johnny looked back at you, muttering your name as you finally caught up to him. “hey—! you goin’ home?” you asked, shifting your weight from your hands to your knees as you hunched over and caught your breath. johnny just nodded as he watched you regain composure quickly, already back and energized.

you circled around him with a flurry of questions, questions like how his day was or if he ate today. johnny always wondered why you asked him these questions, whether you cared or not was really his main concern although he’d never dare ask.

once you guys had arrived to johnny’s house though, came a ruckus from inside. the noise traveling outside the house through a sliver of open window as you both saw two figures screaming at each other.

you saw as the corners of johnny’s mouth twitched downwards as he winced at the sound of glass breaking.

then, almost like an miracle came your voice from beside him.

“wanna go to the lot?”

once he had looked at you, it was like an instant mood lifter. you had a boyish grin on your face with your hands shoved in your pockets as your eyes crinkled with how big of a smile you had glued to your face, as usual.

how could johnny deny you?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“are you always like this?” DALLAS said as he leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, watching as you danced around and made a mess with the baking supplies.

“like what?” your voice, jubilant as ever, rung out in dally’s ears. he always played it off as if he hated how joyous it was, but if he was being honest, the way the syllables rolled so quickly off your tongue was satisfying to him. he’d never admit it obviously. being dallas winston was a tough job to keep up.

you twirled around, reaching on your tippy toes to grab something off the fridge before spinning back around to pour milk in the mixing bowl, hips swaying to the faint music that you turned down to hear dallas over.

dallas scoffed, shaking his head amusedly while he lit a cigarette, eyes flickering up at you every once in awhile. “nothin’.” he muttered, words muffled around his cigarette.

he looked at you, his eyes were empty enough that anybody else would mistake his expression for annoyance, but you knew better. you knew dallas winston better than anybody. and as you danced so freely around the kitchen, like no one was watching you, dallas admired you. you were yourself, in this moment socs and greasers didn’t matter, nothing did. the only thing that mattered to you was getting these ingredients right, and you couldn’t do that with a little dancing.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“woah, darlin’! someone had a li’l too much sugar, huh?” TWO-BIT laughed as you bounced around. you were like a candle waiting to be blown out, flowing in place but still moving. you were definitely still moving.

you practically vibrated in place, your feet kicked in your seat as you giggled, talking about your day to two-bit. his grey eyes watched you with intent, his own grin painted on his face. sometimes he didn’t pay attention, other times he asked questions just at the right times. even if it was just pure luck, you appreciated his responses even if they were just ‘huh’s or ‘oh!’s.

“what do you think?” you finally stopped ranting, taking a break to ask two-bit once again what he thought.

he paused, taking a second to sip on his can of beer before looking off to the side in thought. then, as quick as it left, his smile returned as he finally laughed.

“i think you need a nap, babydoll.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“so what happened next?” STEVE asked, licking the spoon as he sat across from you in the diner as he watched you take a break from talking to devour a milkshake.

you smacked your lips as you swallowed and immediately put up your hand to express yourself further. “she cussed her out!”

steve raised his eyebrows as he broke off another piece of the diner’s famous cake—which he claimed was never better than darry’s yet he was still destroying it.

what you always appreciated about steve was his blind loyalty to you. even if he didn’t understand, his heart was in the right place. he gasped at anything dramatic, but he just loved gossip in general. him and sodapop were like kids around a campfire as they always circled around you while you explained to them the gossip going on around school.

steve watched as you rambled on and on, twirling your hair at certain parts and jumping up in your seat at important ones. by the time you both finished that conversation, your bill was racked up with how long you had took, and the waitresses were rolling your eyes at every “but, did you hear..”

that didn’t matter to you two, though. you just cared about talking to steve, and steve was too busy admiring you to care about anything else.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ my favs r fluttershy n rarity but tell me why i’m literally rainbow dash irl

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

#the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #darry curtis x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #johnny cade x reader #dallas winston x reader #two bit mathews x reader #steve randle x reader #fanfiction #x reader #the outsiders fanfiction #sodkdodjsjwow #that reminds me #i lowkey wanna rewatch mlp #their songs did not have to go that hard #for a KIDS SHOW #ambrozjas #kiss kiss

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whalesforhands · 5 months ago

Text

what’s yours is mine (6/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

You always thought that there was something off about your dearest friend. Something that you just can never be sure of no matter how much you watch him, no matter how much you scrutinize and prod at his cheek with a deductive finger and a furrow of your brows.

It’s like finding the secret twist like in that one detective show. You gotta look hard, look deep into someone; something to really find what you’re truly looking for.

Because it could be right in front of your very eyes.

“Mhfm?” Geto Suguru is tilting his head at you through a spoonful of ice cream, letting you examine him carefully to the fullest of your ability just as you pinch one of his cheeks in between surveying fingers.

Pinch. Pull. Pinch. Stretch it out lightly. Let go.

He swallows as you grab his nose, squeezing lightly and feeling the cartilage sink under your touch.

Squishy.

“Is… There something on my face?” He blinks at you, squeezes his eyes closed when you start to squeeze a little harder with a cute frown that was teetering on a pout, with his voice amusingly nasally from your actions.

Yet, despite all that, you can’t seem to put a finger on it at all.

“Probably ugliness.” Gojo Satoru’s crude remark is heard from within an impish giggle, his lips smeared with cold ice cream as he licks the remnants away with a nimble tongue. “Ya looked in a mirror lately?”

“Nope,” Geto Suguru replies, irritation evident in his tone as his eyebrow starts to twitch, the smile still holding strong on his face as he feels you twirl a strand of his hair. “You’re around me so much that they all start breaking by themselves.”

And the air tenses, silence permeating before it breaks into yelled insults.

“Ya offended me, so you have to gimme all your ice cream!”

“Haaah?! That doesn’t make any sense at all, you greedy scammer! Y’er gonna lose the rest of your teeth!”

“Kimi-chan said it was just my baby teeth falling out!”

(It’s true. There’s a hole in your mouth right now from where you had spat out your tooth after a pretty bad fall yesterday.)

Such is the relationship between your friends. You guess that it isn’t so bad even when they practically start glaring at each other as Gojo purposely lunges for a jaw-dropping, comically large bite of ice cream that wasn’t his.

Narrowly would he have tackled you had it not been for Suguru pushing you away, the force toppling you over and making you now lay down uselessly upon your back, staring up at the ceiling of your own room and watching the sway of your ceiling lamp as you hear the both of them gasp, a spoon clattering onto the tatami of your floor just as little feet rush over to you.

“(n-name)?!” Worried and panicked as a bandaid covered hand smooths over your face.

“Oi, look what ya did!” Rough and jittery.

“I did it cause you’re dumb and blind!” Irritated and fretful.

These ones are easy to tell, easy to see exactly what they feel. So… You think they’re getting along exceptionally well these days. Especially when your eyes begin to stare up at their worried faces and prodding questions.

It makes you think harder than you did just moments before. Maybe it was a good thing that the back of your head was hit so hard.

“Everyone has their own secrets,” She began, pulling at its sleeves and smoothening out the wrinkles upon the damp shirt as it flutters out, the water having been wrung out thoroughly. “It’s only a matter if you find out or not.”

If you find out, huh? Mama says it’s rude to ask someone outright. Yet, it’s not enough of an answer to deter you.

“But what if I really, really wanna know something, Mama?”

“I suppose…” She glances down at you briefly as another pillowcase is pinned onto the clothing rack, the brand new, softer fabric starting to billow in the soft wind. “They’ll have to decide for themselves on whether or not they want to tell you.”

That’s annoying. Your shoulders slump and you pout, your foot continuously giving light kicks to the basket of clothing pegs as you squeeze the elastane plastic currently in your hand.

“But I’m sure that if you both were close enough,” She begins again just as your hand plops another pin onto her open palm. “They’d tell you outright.”

That gives you hope, you suppose. Only a little.

“Do you have any secrets, Mama?” It’s your curious eyes and small grin of mischief that catch her eye first as you hear her give you an inconclusive hum in reply.

The last of the laundry flutters with the wind, your knees bending and your hand reaching for the final clothespin to hand off to her as she stares off into the sky for a little bit, a certain look in her eye that you can’t exactly put your finger on but swear that you’re just upon the tip of discerning—

Before you feel a hand on your hand ruffling your hair as you blink, breaking you out of your train of investigative thought.

“Not at all.”

(“But I know you snuck a bite of the cream puffs I bought before dinner.” You feel a tap to your nose when she squats down to be eye level with you, a gasp of shock and your hands immediately slapping over your mouth a little too late.

How did she know?! How did she find out?! You even learned how to close that flimsy, silly little cardboard back correctly and as neatly as possible! Is your Mama a mind reader—

“You had cream on your nose all this time, dear.”)

You don’t know how to go about it, so you ask the next person you trust the most in this whole wide world.

Maybe that was your first mistake.

“Hah?” Gojo Satoru is staring up at you through those long eyelashes as he makes you pat his head, your hand smoothening out those rough strands of cloud white as you sit on your legs to better accommodate to his, admittedly, hard to discern whims.

(Mama did say he was ‘clingy’ after all.)

Maybe your pillows are just too cheap for someone so rich like him, too low quality to even be considered acceptable for his standards… Which is why he always has to make do with your lap despite how your legs start to get really tired after being stuck like this right after waking up.

(But if it’s for your friends, you’d do a lot of things for them. Even if you think your legs are gonna go numb and fall off…)

“I don’t know anythin’ about that uggo!” He’s quiet for once, finally learning to keep his voice small in these early mornings when the sky is still trapped in a dim blue and the sun had only started to peek over the horizon to say good morning to the world, his shiny eyes watching you lazily blink your bleary sleepiness away.

It’s one of those early weekend mornings where it would be just the both of you, the whirl of your fan beside your futon, those partially drawn curtains and breakfast that Kimiko-san had brought over sitting upon your kitchen counter downstairs.

(Mama is very grateful for Kimiko-san. You’ve seen her bow so profusely to her as she pushes the nicely packaged bag of tea she bought just yesterday with you into the maidservant’s hands before she left for work the other day.)

“Are you both still fighting?” You hear him whine just that little bit more when you rub against that spot near his ears, palms moulding into his scalp and your fingers scratching against the parts he usually gives in at— The parts that make him much more susceptible to talk even if he was being stubborn and puffing his cheeks at you.

“Hmph…!”

You’re actually… Kind of relieved Suguru isn’t here to retort back. It’s too early in the morning, and you’d feel really bad if he woke up too soon.

He needs to sleep well to keep his prettiness. That much you’re sure of, when you compare him to your cute friend who wakes up too early in the morning to come hang out with you, anyway.

“You shouldn’t be angry, Satoru.” Your thumb pokes at the crease between his brows to make him relax them before your arms shift to be hugging around his head, the soft scent of his expensive shampoo in your nose as you close your eyes and gently relax.

“You’ll make me sad.”

And that has him going limp in your hold, tension leaving his body as he watches your face from the corner of his eye.

You’re stupid. And dumb. And stupid stupid stupid stupid—!

“W-well I’ll forgive him if you don’t invite him over today!” He’s stuttering through his cute cherry cheeks, alight with a red so sweet you think he might actually turn into a cherry himself. “Ya h-have to hang out with only m-me today!”

That does sound a little unfair on Suguru’s end. So you compromise.

“Then can we go to his house later then? Geto-mama said her husband got some souvenirs from Hakone.” And a lot, too.

He stops complaining— Starkly silent as you continue to hug your cute friend. He feels so nice to hug.

You’re using his biggest weaknesses against him and it isn’t fair! So he has to actively contemplate, weighing the pros and cons as your cheek rubs so softly against him…

“How to get your friend to listen to you?” Your Mama blinks at you as she turns away from the TV that was still playing, head inquisitively tilted to the side as you blink back at her.

You think she has an inkling of what— And more specifically, who you’re talking about. She lets out a chuckle when she notices you’re staring at her too intensely, hyper focused on her answer as you waited with bated breath.

You really need to listen to her advice.

“You don’t actually have to try much, sweetie.” She shifts a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, smoothening it down and combing through it slightly. “Just be yourself.”

“F-Fine!” He huffs and puffs and pats your hand, a signal for you to let go, thoroughly embarrassed now that his entire face was ablaze with a hot blush.

You didn’t glean anything about Suguru from him after all, but at least you know he likes your shared pretty friend more than he lets on.

(He wouldn’t have agreed so readily otherwise, even with the promise of snacks.)

So you confide in someone else who would definitely know more than you. Someone who you trust more than you do yourself… Even if he ranked like— 7th on the list after Sailor Moon and Pikachu.

(You tried talking to them through the TV screen. They don’t really seem to be replying… They’re too busy being heroes like you, after all.)

“How to get your friend to tell you somethin’?” He’s raising a brow at you as his legs spread far too wide and take up way too much space, a yawn escaping his too big mouth and making the scar on his lips even more prominent than it already was… All whilst you were the one with his beaten up book bag settled on your lap that you had picked up after he unceremoniously tossed it aside.

“How the hell would I know?”

You’ve resorted to asking him for help as you let the leather of his bag settle upon you, your thighs jutting it up every few moments or so as you play with it. It’s surprisingly light, as if it didn’t have much— Or anything inside of it.

“You look smart.” You blink up at those dull green eyes of his, fingers playing with the metal buckles and watching as he tussled with his own hair when he practically rolled his eyes at your reply. “So I wanna ask you.”

“Well kid, do I look like a fucking—“ He clicks his tongue in realization at his wording, taking a breath in through clenched teeth and glaring down at your curious blinking eyes before averting his gaze, fingers moving to be pinching the skin between his brows as he lets out a deep sigh.

Exasperatedly. As if he gave up.

“Shi— Fine.” A roll of his eyes as they drift off to the side, as if he was thinking for a little bit as you sit beside him with your legs hanging off the ledge of the wooden bench you were both seated on.

You win. He’ll hand down all his secret knowledge to you now to let you gain experience points.

He‘s mostly quiet even when he’s not all that deep in contemplation, only a few grunts here and there when he finds himself staring into the setting orange of the sky.

(Adults must really like doing that. You’re glad you already have one thing in common with them. Can you be an adult now too?)

“Just beat their asses. People are easy and will tell ya anything when they’re on the ground tryin’ not to piss their pants.” He ends with a bit of a deranged chuckle as you watch how his curled up fists began to twitch.

He’s… Definitely scary-ish. If you cared to put enough thought into how frightfully intimidating this almost adult is, anyway.

(For some reason, you aren’t scared of him at all…)

A blink. And another as you try to process his words clearly. You don’t really get it. Violence won’t solve much in the long term, and you’re not exactly open to roughing it up with anyone…

“But what if I don’t wanna beat up my friend?” Now you’re the one frowning, lips turned downwards and brows furrowed together as you clutch his bag closer against your chest.

Oh, how it scares you to even think about messing up Suguru’s pretty face… How would you ever admire it anymore?!

“Oi, I gave ya a solution. Quit whining.” There’s a rumble in his throat, dismissive disdain and annoyance in his tone as he pulls out his cellphone, lifting the cover up to reveal a cracked screen as he mashes on buttons that you don’t really know how to use well.

“If you’re gonna complain, just pry it out of him yourself, you brat.”

Pry… It out yourself? And… If he likes you enough he’ll tell you… He’ll tell you if you tried. Try. Oh. Ohhh. Ohhhh!

And you’ve jumped up onto your feet, carefully making sure his dusty bag didn’t fall to the dustier ground as you hold it above your head in celebration, a wide grin on your face and your eyes sparkling in victory, showing off the bag as if it were a grand prize you had obtained through arduous competition.

“Mister, I always knew you were smarter than you looked!”

(“The fuc— Hell is that s’pposed to mean?”)

——

“Oh hello! How have you been, dear?” Geto-mama is the one that’s greeting you this time around, patting her hands dry on her apron, already squatting down the moment she had spotted you and opening her arms up with that cooing look on her face.

You indulge her, despite that mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“My! You’re always such a sweetheart to me!” You can feel her heartbeat pick up just as she squeezes you to her chest, your cheek resting against the soft fabric of her shirt as you blink. “Gotta thank your Mama for raising you so cutely! I don’t need to make a daughter if I already have someone as adorable as you are, dearie!”

There she goes talking again, with your face pressed inbetween her soft chest no less. It feels really nice though.

Her boobies are so big…

“Gosh, it’s only been a few years but you already look so grown up! I wonder just how many years I have left before I won’t be able to pick you up like this anymore!” You feel her practically swing you around when your feet leave the ground. “Goodness me, you are so cute!”

You tune her out, patting her back lightly as she squeezes you ever impossibly closer. Geto-mama is so strong. You hope to grow up as healthily as her when you get older.

“Are you here alone today? Suguru’s off with his Papa to the market for a bit.” And she has an arm supporting your bottom, cooing at you with a blissed out look on her face as she carries you to the living room.

“Mhm. Satoru can’t come t’day.” He’s busy with extra lessons, learning… Um, you think it was an instrument. You tug at the strings with a stick and put your chin on the tiny guitar.

“Oho~? Then how about having a chat with an old lady while waiting?”

Sounds like a plan. You don’t have anything else to do today anyway. And you can’t exactly play Suguru’s board games by yourself, that’s no fun.

“Okay. And you’re not old, Geto-mama. You look like you could be my older sister.”

(Mama told you any lady would be flattered if you said that.)

“Oh my goodness me! I could faint just by listening to you compliment me!” A hand to her forehead for the added dramatics. “I’ve got some banana teacakes and some senbei! Which would you prefer, darling?”

If Suguru is the only one coming later, then…

“Senbei, please.”

(“Oh, you’re so darling and polite! I simply cannot stop swooning over you!”

Mama did say Geto-mama had her heels over her head for you once. You don’t know what that means, but you assume it must be pretty good if she fusses over you so much. Like one of those kind, but slightly overbearing grandmas in the shows you watch.)

You’re blowing away the steam from the piping cup of warm milk in your hands, a slight mustache from the remnants of the drink upon your upper lip as you poke your tongue out to lick it away.

“And then Suguru helped Kanade-san get up even when he could’ve ran past him.” You pause momentarily to recount the time a little more. “Kanade-san is a super fast runner, and everyone thought Suguru was gonna lose, but then he actually won.”

You take another sip as you let out another relaxed sigh.

“Suguru’s really cool.” And that is a given fact. He’s the coolest. Only Satoru could only come in a close second to be cool-lier. You’re really happy that you can call yourself his— Their friend.

“That… I’m assuming Suguru has been treating everyone well, then?” She’s smiling as she watches you snack on the rice crackers, her elbows on the table as she hums.

As well as he could be anyway, you think.

“Mhm. Suguru’s really polite. But I also told him that he needed to look out for people that will want to wish ill on him due to conflicting interests.” Your legs kick as you miss the way Geto-mama’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head from your nonchalant little advice spiel, taking another hearty sip of your milk before continuing.

“That’s what the zodiac sign lady on TV said about Aquariuses-es.”

A sigh of— Relief? From her.

“Ahaha, more from that astrology column you love so much, huh? You’re quite the attentive one, sweetie.” She smiles as her eyes close, a little chuckle leaving her. “I should be less worried, but I just can’t help it even if you’ve been such a good influence on him, dear.”

And she has every right to be, you’re pretty sure.

Geto Suguru did not get off scot-free after that little incident with your classmate. Disciplinary action was taken, parents were called in, and Suguru couldn’t come to school for a good 3 days.

But you don’t know the details other than that. Only heard those flying rumours that you didn’t pay much attention to as you walked past your chatty tables of your classmates.

“He broke Tachibana-kun’s hand…”

“He’s so violent!”

“My cousin from another town over said there was a really violent boy who looked really similar to him when I showed her my class photo—“

“Ehhh? No way, that couldn’t be Geto-san! When I talked to him he was so nice and polite!”

“Yeah, but! My cousin showed me a kindergarten photo and it looked just like him!”

“My mother did say that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover…”

You don’t care. You don’t care because ‘Listening to dreadful words that had no substance would lead you down a path that will not converge with what you wanted’. According to your zodiac sign that day, anyway.

But you believe it regardless.

“Geto-mama,” Your eyes watch her carefully, watch how her shoulders slumped and how her eyes shone with that characteristic confidence and how the way she carried that sure air always surrounding her.

“How has living here been?”

And she only smiles at you.

“Oho? Not going to ask why we moved here in the first place?” It has been a good 3 years since they moved in. There’s no use dwelling on the past if it’s all the way back then. “You didn’t ask even when we first moved in here, you know?”

She’s curious why you don’t pry.

You won’t care about such things. The past is the past, and Mama doesn’t like bringing up the past. The past is a secret you have to unlock with time, with careful prying and precision if you truly wanna know.

So you nod, blinking up at her with your eyes that spoke your truth, your now empty plastic cup tapping against the coaster as you settle it down and reach for another rice cracker from the bowl.

(Geto-mama prepared an even number of snacks. She’s so thoughtful.)

“Everybody’s got secrets. It depends on ‘em if they wanna tell or not.”

(Hehe. You sound like your Mama. You’re really proud of yourself for that.)

“Is that so?” She laughs again, an amused glimmer in her eye and a hand over her mouth as she hears the crunch of the senbei you were chewing on.

“Then I hope Suguru lets you know his secrets soon enough.”

The door clacks open, the telltale ring of the bell signalling that it had been unlocked as you hear the shift of those sturdy reusable bags Mama often uses to avoid the ¥10 extra charge on plastic bags, with a couple sets of shoes tappin against the stone genkan floors of the Geto house.

“Mama! We’re back!” His voice calls out with so much familiarity as you hear slippers clacking against hard ground. “Papa bought too many tomatoes cause they were on sale!”

“Already outing me to your mama, huh?”

“Ehehe.” His eyes cast downwards to better kick off the slipper that had accidentally clung to his foot— Ah, it’s getting so annoying to take them… Off?

Strappy sandals. Well-worn, straps undone with fraying ends and certainly, a very familiar set of sandals.

You. Were you already here? When did you come? Did you eat yet? How long have you been alone with his mother?

Regardless of all his thoughts, all his questions. One thing is for certain as he finally gets the stubborn shoe off running past his poor Papa trying to gather the bags as he runs down the hall and into the living room.

He’s excited to see you.

“Mama! Is (name) here?!”

And he spots you, so cheerily chewing on one of the hard rice crackers as his mother watches with a hearty smile that looked a little too smug.

“Oh my? Not going to help me and your Papa with the groceries?” And she’s already pushing back her chair as Suguru pouts at her.

“I can do it— Later.”

“Oh~ And if I don’t have any groceries for you to pack later?”

Hmph…

“I can help.” You’re speaking through the dry senbei you had just swallowed as your eyes lift up and off the table to meet his already staring purple that practically shone so bright. “Then Suguru and I can play together sooner, right?”

You’re so kind. So sweet. So nice to him.

“Ahaha, it’s alright you two. Have fun.” And she leaves. Geto-mama finally leaves as his feet practically start moving by themselves towards you. To be closer to you, to be near you.

“Hi.” He smiles at you, so softly and so sweetly with his eyes upturned into gentle crescents and his cheeks rosy red. “Did my mama talk ya ear off?”

He sounds almost out of breath. Shy.

It’s not the same boy the rumours in your class float around about at all. You’re super sure it isn’t as you let him take your hand to help you off the chair.

He doesn’t let go.

“I like your mama, though.”

And while you were always the one being asked to give hugs to Satoru— You just can’t seem to stop yourself from asking hugs from your Suguru as you squeeze his palm and stare at the sway of his bangs.

Hmph… He didn’t hug you yet.

“Suguru.” You tug at his hand when he’s humming, climbing onto his couch and signalling for you to follow suit as you start to pout.

“Suguru…”

“Hm?” He’s too busy staring down at your intertwined hands, a bit of a dopey smile on his face as he swings it back and forth.

He looks so happy.

So you don’t wanna interrupt him.

“What do you wanna do now?” Even if you’re pouting and sad that you didn’t get a greeting hug. You’ll settle for the handholding, you guess. Sigh.

“Well… Satoru might wanna watch Digimon right now.”

Uh— Huh? He’s not wrong, but… Satoru isn’t here right now. It’s a habit you’ve noticed… A lot actually.

“Satoru won’t like that.”

“You’re going to make me— No, Satoru mad if you talk to that boy.”

“Do you and Satoru like this a lot?”

As much as you’re happy that he likes your clingy friend a lot— It doesn’t help you learn enough about the your pretty neighbour; Geto Suguru.

Geto Suguru who likes to keep his hair long, Geto Suguru who has pretty purple eyes, Geto Suguru who likes to pet the neighbourhood cats, Geto Suguru who likes to eat cold soba…

There could be so much more that you don’t know about him.

Ah. You found it. That’s what’s been poking and prodding at your brain so often about Suguru. The way he tried so hard to please you.

“No.” You’re shaking your head as your eyes look from the cupboard amassing his various board games, to his television and to the unfinished plate of rice crackers and back to those confused; unsure amethyst eyes.

“What do you wanna do?”

“But—“ He sounds uncertain— Unsure and choked and slightly… Afraid?

“Your Papa’s a Beta but your Mama’s an Alpha?” The sandpit felt a little too crowded today after his presentation on his family. A little too many people for his liking as they bombard him with questions.

“My daddy says that your Papa’s so lucky to be able to marry and train an Alpha!”

He doesn’t see what’s wrong with how his family loves and cares for each other. Who cares? They like each other, and that’s enough.

“Ehh? An Alpha who plays mommy to take care of the house? What kind of Alpha is that? My mother says that Alphas are better in the adult job world!”

Who cares? His mama is happy with her life. And that’s enough.

“Right?! Maybe Geto-kun’s mama is defectiv—“

“Shut up!” A blinding fistful of sand, a tackle and two bodies crashing into the dusty sand box as punches fly and tears drop.

“You can’t say that about my mama!”

Geto Suguru who hates others because they just don’t think like he does. They don’t get things the way he does, don’t see things the way he can.

There shouldn’t be a world for those snickering, sneering faces that don’t even deserve to be able to breathe. He knows, learned from such a tender, young age that people are cruel. That you could chase, and chase after their adoration as much as you liked; only to have it crash down within the next moment.

Geto Suguru saw no point in making friends when his parents started packing their bags when the rumours about their violent child started spreading throughout the neighbourhood. Geto Suguru who got in the car and sat so eerily quiet for hours on end.

Geto Suguru who finally started speaking to others again the moment he saw you hiding behind the curtains.

“I wanna listen to what you wanna do. Satoru’s not here so we can play whatever.” Your free hand taps against your still conjoined hands as you shift closer to him.

He describes you as weird, describes you as odd. There was no kid back at his original neighbourhood that would hide from him the moment he laid his ‘gentle’ eyes on them. No kid who would go out of their way to try to be as accommodating as possible whilst being oddly— Awfully silent with pursed lips and an awkward look in their eye.

“…even if you don’t like what I’ll say?” It’s safer to just stick to what he already knows you like. You like Satoru, you like staying at your house, you like your Mama… Don’t dislike him. Don’t hate him.

Your head tilts to the side in confusion. “I like you.” That’s a good response you think, your nose picking up on a change in the air and catching a glimpse of a sheen of wetness in his eyes. “So I’ll definitely like what you wanna say.”

There was no kid out there who was so unabashedly like you. He just can’t help it— Seeing you struggle makes him soft and icky and gooey inside. He thought hanging out with you once would cure that ache to want to talk with you, would rid him of this odd intrigue about you.

But now— All he hopes is that you won’t hate him.

“And what if…” You think his voice is growing smaller and smaller. “You don’t like me anymore because of something I said?”

Hmm…? That’s never happened before though. You think for a little bit as you stare off to the side and let your head loll and rest on his as you feel him shudder.

But you know he’s not recoiling from you. The air feels sour, shaky. It doesn’t feel comforting as usual as you hold his hand tighter and think harder.

“Then I’ll just make friends with you again?” It will be tough on your end, and you’re not sure if he will take you back, but it’s sure worth a shot if it comes to him.

A stifled giggle— And sudden choked laughs.

You think you finally managed to make him smile again.

“Hahah…! What is that even supposed to mean, you dummy? Ahahah!” He’s still holding onto your hand as his head turns away from you, tips of his ears burning red and a quiet sniffle that you almost missed.

“You’re so stupidly kind, (name).”

And you learned that Geto Suguru can be crass, can let loose and say absolutely anything behind that facade of his. That, despite being so soft, can grow so tough and spiky that it was hard to get him to change his mind.

Maybe that’s why your two friends can get along so well.

Because they’re just so alike.

previous masterlist next

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader

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the-princess-of-bimbos · 4 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

🩷Sukuna x chubby reader🩷

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭: The reader is female, black ofc<3 but any race can read it if they want to, toxic!Sukuna , reader gets a good ending just because. Please know that this is probably my only "dark ish" ff unless y'all like this type of stuff so...

⚠️None⚠️

It was 12:45 in the morning when you got a text from Sukuna talking about. 'I'm pulling up inna second come outside.' I sigh putting on my black fuzzy slides and my (f/c) robe. I laid back on my bed cause I know Sukuna's ass not gonna be here for a while. As soon as I opened Instagram, 'Sukuna Baee ❤' was calling. "Hello?" "Where the hell are you? I told yo ass to come outside!" His voice was booming from the speaker phone. "Stop yelling at me Kuna. I told you that I don't like it when you yell at me." I say with a pout.

I could practically hear the eye roll he did and he hung up. 'I don't even wanna go in his stupid car.' I thought. I tighten my robe and open the front door going to the curb where Sukuna's car resided. I knocked on his window with a pout on my face. He rolled it down with a big ass smirk. "I know you haven't been crying." He teased. I didn't reply. "Get in." He said with a sigh. I hesitated a bit just to get under his skin. I got in the passenger seat with my arms crossed.

"What's up witchu? Smile fa' me." He smirked. "What do you want?" He leaned his head back with an attitude. "Girl, that's not how you greet a mothafucka when they're being nice to you." I didn't do anything but ignore him."I don't think I want to take part of being your girlfriend anymore Sukuna." You said with your face in the car mirror touching your face. "Fuck you mean 'you don't wanna be my girl anymore'." He mocked. "Because you don't respect me, like at all." You began. Your voice shaking a bit.

Sukuna smirked and slid down his seat a little bit to man spread. "Explain." He said. "Okay, whenever I'm with my home girls, you're always all over them and shit. Giving them full hugs when you don't even know them like that. You're supposed to give them sides hugs or just give them a high five or something. And don't even get me started on the fact that youre over here linking up with them too! I thought it was just me and you Kuna, What happened to that? Also whenever I set boundaries with you, you don't ever respect that. How many times do I have to tell you not to yell at me or when I dont want to have sex with you? But you steady wanna ignore my feelings because you don't care and I'm not even your type for real." You ranted with tears in your eyes.

"How are they fake?" I turned to him. He tossed his phone to me while looking out his window.

Sukuna was on his phone texting someone I think. "See look, you not even paying attention. I'm outta here. Lose my number." I say as I open the door. But before I could do so, Sukuna locked the door. "You not going no where so don't start like that. Second of all, you're being hella insecure because you know I don't even like your fake ass friends anyways." he scoffed.

This is the beginning of your conversation.

Symoné: Who dis?

Me: Dis Sukuna lol

Symoné: How you get my insta?

Me: Y/n gave it to me.

Symoné: Oh....

Me: Shiii you trynna go to this new restaurant wit me?

Symoné: Is Y/n gon be there???

Me: Nah but don't worry bout dat she said that it was cool for us to go together

Symoné: Okay then what time?

Me: I'll be there in 30 minutes. Wear something pretty.

Seen

"What are you trying to prove my nigga?!" You raise your voice at him as you threw his phone on his lap. He shuffled his body. "Well, if they were your real friends then they wouldn't be agree about comin with me anyways." He shrugged his shoulders. "Sucks to suck."

I unlock the door with my hand and leave. "Where the fuck you think you're goin?" He yells. I ignore him and walk into my house.

|Time skip|

*15 new messages from Sukuna Baee❤️*

*25 missed calls from Sukuna Baee❤️*

I wake up from my sleep to see my phone blaring it's blue light, distracting me. I pick it up and read the messages he sent.

Sukuna Baee❤️: Yo Y/n text me back when you can

Sukuna Baee❤️: Hey

Sukuna Baee❤️: Are you sleeping?

Sukuna Baee❤️: I'm finna call you

*missed call*

Sukuna Baee❤️: ANSWER THE PHONE Y/N IK yu UP

Seen

Etc etc etc...... He tried to call again but I let it ring and blocked his number. I scroll through my call list and see Yuji's profile. We've been talking around the same time me and Sukuna been talking and 'dating'. They're twin brothers!

Yuji: I've missed youuuu 🥺 why haven't you been talking to meee it's been 2 weeks 🥲

Me: I'm sorry babe. I was caught up in some other drama. It's all over now

Yuji: Do you still have that movie night planned?

Me: Duh ofc I didn't forget. I'll see you tmw at 10???????

Yuji: Yep :)

*Liked by Me*

Y/n smiled and looked towards at you. "The hell are you looking like that for? Don't hate the player.... Hate the game or how ever you say it."

#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #plus size reader #jjk x chubby reader #jjk #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #yuji itadori #jjk yuji #jjk itadori #jujutsu itadori #itadori x reader #the-princess-of-bimbos

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year ago

Text

{2} - Lethal Protectors - Yandere!Vampire!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Vampire AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 9,448

Warnings: Joong fucks up big time. Depiction of a panic attack. Violence and blood. Kidnapping (not the oc). Implied stalking. Past trauma and mentions of scars. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Welp, the first part was based off a dream, and subsequently, the second part is as well. (Well, the ending, mainly, but I digress lol). Anyways, I mentioned it briefly before, but this series is probably going to be more broken up into one shots than linear, but I'll see how that goes. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, seeing as this turned out much longer than I planned for it lol. Also, Joong is not a good boy in this part. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Gentle reminder that I don't do tag lists

Mini Masterlist - Part One

“You’ve been avoiding us.”

A sudden voice off to your right has you practically dropping the small box in your hands. Luckily, whoever seems to have startled you moves quickly enough to prevent it from hitting the ground. Looking up reveals the culprit to be Yunho.

“I’ve been busy.” Comes your blunt answer, grabbing the box rather harshly out of his grip and packing it into the car with the others.

“Busy enough to rarely leave home, and then decide to move out the moment your parents go away on vacation?” He counters, a hint of hurt bleeding into his tone.

“How do you know if I’ve barely left my house or not?” Your brow furrows, the sound of the car door slamming shut resounding through the area. “Or if my parents have gone on vacation?”

“My point is,” he leans against the car, a subtle pout pulling at his lips, “we know you’ve been avoiding us.”

“You deflected.” You cross you arms over your chest.

“And you’re leaving us.” He mirrors your stance.

Your lips part in answer, only for the loud slamming of your front door to echo out, a happy yip soon to follow.

“Okay, so I think I’ve gotten everything- oh.” Your sister’s voice halts as soon as she sees who you’re talking to, the chipper patter of feet stopping dead in their tracks.

“It’s okay, Chloe,” you sigh. “Just get in the car. I’ll be done in a minute.”

“He’s not-“ Her eyes dart from between you and Yunho, “He’s not…”

“No, he’s not one of Ryder’s friends.” You confirm, and the way instant relief is seen in the way her shoulders deflate says it all.

“Okay,” she still eyes him a bit warily as she moves over to the passenger’s side.

The rear door is opened to let the dog into the car, and then not even a moment later, she closes it in favour of hopping into the front seat. You can feel her eyeing you through the window, despite how she takes out her phone to appear busy.

“It’s been over a month-“

“I recognize that.” You sigh once more.

“You said we would talk about things later.” Yunho’s voice is hushed, the hurt easily portrayed on his features.

“Yes, I did.” You blink at him, reaching to open the driver’s side door.

“Well?” His one brow quirks, a gleam of hope shining behind his eyes.

“Well, what?” You prop the door open, practically clinging to it for dear life.

“It’s later.” He states, blinking at you expectantly.

“Look, Yunho,” you grimace slightly, “I’m not talking about this now.”

“Then, when?” He takes a step towards you, and you shuffle the slightest bit backwards.

His expression falls, but he backs off. For now.

“Whenever I’m ready.” You say.

“And when will that be?” His fingers twitch at his sides.

“I don’t know, Yunho.” You shake your head, climbing into the car. “I don’t know.”

The sound of the door practically slamming in his face serves as a finality to the conversation. A fact of which is only furthered by the revving of the engine rumbling to life, the car backing out of the driveway without you so much as sparing another look in his direction.

You get about three minutes down the road before Chloe is looking at you expectantly. “Okay, spill.”

“Spill, what?” You scoff playfully.

“What was that all about?” She quirks a brow as you turn the corner, driving the car down the road that will lead to the major highway.

“Nothing important.” You reply.

“‘Nothing important’ my ass!” She rolls her eyes. “A super handsome guy comes over to talk to you, whom has nothing to do with Ryder, and you brush him off like he’s dust on your jacket?” A pointed look is sent your way. “Spill.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Chlo.” You shake your head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Then why-“

“Please, Chlo,” you spare a glance towards her out of the corner of your eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Talking about it means accepting what happened. Talking about it makes it real.

“Fine.” She grumbles, tapping away at her phone. “But I get to pick the music.”

Not even a moment later, one of her favourite songs at the moment begins blasting through the car radio. Loudly, she begins singing along, and although you know she’s doing it on purpose, it takes you no time at all to be smiling and singing along with her.

Two days ago, your parents left for a three month long vacation. Unfortunately, it coincided with the time that Chloe needed to be driven back to university for her second year. So, you being the responsible adult you are, offered to drive her yourself. She managed to find a place with her significant other, and today is the day she promised them that she would move in.

You’ve always been close with your sister, so it’s no big deal for you. Chloe and her dog, Raymond, are literally your little rascals. Sure, she can get on your nerves a lot, but what are sisters for? You’re sure she’d say the same for you.

You just weren’t expecting Yunho to show up outside your house.

It’s true. You have been avoiding them. Honestly, it’s been easier than you expected, but then again, your parents have been home to go out and buy groceries, and you’ve been able to work remotely for your job since you’ve gotten it.

No more coffee runs. No more spontaneous walks through the forest. Not even late night boba runs with Chloe, much to her disappointment. Of course, last night you caved, seeing as it had been the last time you would be able to do such a thing with her for a while. Luckily, you didn’t run into any of the guys then, like you so feared.

Fear. What a strange word.

A word that means so much, and affects even more. A word that, no matter how little it might seem to be, can rule your life.

It’s not that you’re terrified of them, no. It’s more like a caution. You know what they are. You know the lengths they are willing to go to protect you. Yet, despite it all, and your original feelings of safety, you cannot help but doubt their intentions. They say you’re their ‘mate’. So, is that the only reason they’re doing this for you? That they did this for you?

If you were anybody else, would they even have helped?

You seriously doubt that. Which is exactly why you’ve been avoiding them.

Perhaps if they don’t know what they’re missing, they can’t miss you in the first place. Not that they should, really. They hardly know you, and the whole reason you believe that they want to get to know you is because of some stupid fate bullshit.

Would they have even given you a second glance if not because of it? Would they have even cared?

Probably not, and that is what makes you so hesitant about them. You don’t know them, and you don’t know if you want to.

Five hours - and a few pit stops - later, you’re finally pulling into the parking lot of the new apartment building that Chloe will be living in. You’ve agreed to help her move in and unpack with her significant other, and they’ve both agreed to buy you dinner, and let you stay the night in return. After all, it is a lot of driving to do in one day.

Walking down the hallway once exiting the elevator, you already see Brent, Chloe’s significant waiting by the open door to their apartment. Nothing but excitement is on their face as Chloe bounds up to them with Raymond in tow, practically tackling Brent over in an embrace once she reaches them.

“I’ve missed you so much!” You overhear her say, bringing a smile to your face.

“I’ve missed you, too, Chlo.” Brent replies, rubbing a hand along her spine in comfort.

“Good to see you again, Bren.” You nod at them, that smile still present on your features.

“You too!” They grin, pulling away from Chloe as she moves into the apartment to get the dog settled. “Thanks for driving her, and helping us today.”

“It’s no problem.” You walk passed them into the apartment, dropping off the box in your hands on top of where Chloe has just placed her own. “I needed to get out of the house, anyways.”

Brent simply quirks a brow, only for Chloe to reappear a moment later and lean into them, “Guy trouble.”

Understanding flashes across Brent’s features.

“Chloe!” You shoot her an exasperated look. “That is not true!”

“Mmhmm,” Chloe hums skeptically. “And I’m a natural blonde.”

Your younger sister walks passed you, and your eyes cannot help but focus in on her dark roots growing in on the top of her head.

“Seriously, I don’t know how you put up with her,” you shake your head teasingly towards Brent as you both follow your younger sister back down the hallway after closing the door behind you.

“It’s a miracle,” Brent chuckles, “but I manage.”

“Hey!” Chloe whines as you all step into the elevator. “You two know I can hear you, right?”

“That’s the point, Chlo.” You giggle, ruffling her hair. “If you’re going to tell the world about my fictional problems, expect to be teased back.”

A grumble escapes her as she crosses her arms over her chest. Flicking the hair out of her face, she quickly exits the elevator once the doors open to the lobby.

“Come on, I still need to unpack.” She huffs, flicking some of her hair out of her face.

The two of you follow behind her, unloading the car and setting boxes around the apartment. Luckily, you all only have to take a few trips, as Chloe doesn’t have too much stuff with her. Her clothes and books are probably the biggest items, though.

By the time you finish helping her organize her stuff in their room, it’s well into the evening. Currently, she sits before the two bookcases, organizing her novels on the bottom shelves.

“Pizza’s here,” Brent pops their head in, drawing your attention.

“Thanks, Brennie,” Chloe smiles. “We’ll be right there.”

Folding up the final box, you place it to the side as Chloe stands from the floor.

“I think that’s everything.” She breathes a tremendous sigh of relief, wiping her hands together once back on her feet.

You smile at her. A tender, proud look on your features.

“How does it feel?” You ask as you follow her towards the living room.

“How does what feel?” Her brow furrows slightly as she glances back at you over her shoulder.

“To have your own place?” You quirk a brow.

“I don’t think it’s fully hit me yet.” She replies honestly, sitting on the floor by the couch.

“Our apartment comes furnished with these beautiful couches, and you still choose to sit on the floor.” Brent shakes their head, taking a seat closest to Chloe on the sofa.

“You know my sister,” you chuckle, taking a seat on the closest armchair. Then, you’re turning to meet her gaze. “Yeah, it didn’t hit me the first time I fully moved out until the next day.”

“Living in a dorm is definitely different than living on your own for the first time.” Brent comments, to which you nod in agreement.

“But I’m serious, you two,” you look between them. “If you ever need anything, anything at all, do not hesitate to call me. I’ll always get here as fast as I can.”

Chloe whines your name slightly while taking a slice of pizza. Then, she’s meeting your gaze. “Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”

“We appreciate it.” Brent corrects, nudging Chloe lightly with their knee.

Just as you go to take a slice of pizza, your phone rings. Your brow furrows, not recognizing the number, so you opt to let it ring out. Only, when you immediately get another call from the same number, you briefly excuse yourself before answering the call.

“Hello?” Your brow furrows as you step into the kitchen.

“Oh, thank fuck!” A relieved sigh is heard from the other end. “You actually answered this time.”

“Wait, Wooyoung?” Your frown deepens. “How did you get my number?”

“That’s not important right now.” His words are rushed. “What’s important is that you left.” A brief pause, before a small whimper is heard through the phone. “You left us.”

“Excuse me for being under the assumption that we’re not together.” You blink. “Ergo, it should not matter where I go, who I’m with, or how long I’m gone. It is none of your concern, or your business, what I do.”

“I can’t help it.” The pout in his voice is apparent. “You are my concern.”

You blink in shock, not quite sure how to take his words. Though, in your silence, you hear a smack resound on the other end.

“Wait, that came out wrong-“

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait-“

You disconnect the call.

Stepping out of the kitchen, you barely make it a foot before your phone starts ringing again. It’s the same number, but you choose to decline the call.

Then it rings again, and again, and again.

By the third time you have to deny the call, you block his number.

“Geez, you really seem to be having trouble in paradise,” Chloe jokes, attempting to ease the sudden tension she sees in your shoulders.

“I-“

Your phone rings. This time, with a new number that lights up the screen.

Standing to your feet with a sigh, you retreat into the bathroom this time. Hopefully, due to the room being further away, it’ll allow you a little more privacy.

“Look, Wooyoung-“

“Where are you?”

The intensity of the voice behind the inquiry catches you off guard. “Excuse me?”

“Where. Are. You.” Each word is emphasized slowly, and you can hear the barely restrained anger behind his tone.

“Frankly, that’s none of your business.” You reply smartly.

“You are our business.”

Your eyebrow quirks, irritation clear on your features as you catch your reflection in the mirror. “You want to try that again?”

You’re not putting up with this shit. Looks like a few weeks of not getting what they want is allowing for their true colours to show.

“Just tell us where you are before-“

“Or, what? You’ll track me again?” You cut him off.

“If we have to.” Comes his blunt response.

“Ah, yes, because this is making me certainly believe I have a choice in all of this.” Your words seem to shut him up momentarily. “Goodbye, Hongjoong.”

You don’t receive another call that night.

The next day, you stay at Chloe’s for as long as you can. You’re dreading the drive home, and just who might be waiting for you when you get back. Only, you have no other place to go for the moment, and you don’t want to impose for longer than you already have.

To make matters worse, it starts raining about halfway through your drive home. The clouds are dark, and the fact the sun is setting isn’t helping visibility at all. A storm even breaks out an hour before you’re due to arrive home, a torrential downpour impeding your drive. Luckily, it seems that you drive through it, and you manage to pull into your driveway while there’s a break in the rain. However, you know it’s only a matter of minutes before it’s opening back up again.

Quickly grabbing your things, you exit the car. The moment you hear the sound of it locking behind you, you lift your head. At the figure you see sitting on your front porch, you nearly drop your bag.

There, sitting hunched over with his elbows on his knees, is Wooyoung. His hands are clasped together, fingers worriedly threading through one another. His head is down, but you know he’s already heard you exit the car.

The second the sigh slips passed your lips, he looks up.

“You’re back.” The tension in his shoulders seems to ease slightly as he stands back to his feet.

“What are you doing here?” You move passed him to walk up the front steps.

“I was waiting for you.” He answers. “No matter how long it took, I was going to wait until you came home.”

You eye him warily. “Why?”

A moment where he simply blinks at you in response, as if his answer should already be obvious.

“I wanted to see you.” He says, earnestly.

“Wooyoung, you all hardly know me.” You sigh.

“We want to, though.” He takes a step towards you, and even though you take a step back, he stands his ground. “All we want is a chance to get to know you, and for you to know us. Is that too much to ask?”

You purse your lips, looking down and to the left as you avoid his gaze.

The soft patter of rain begins to dance against the awning above you.

In a voice no more than a whisper, you speak, “What if I don’t want that?”

He swallows thickly. “You don’t mean that."

“What if I just want you all to leave me alone?”

“No.” Wooyoung begins to shake his head, his lower lip wobbling as he falls to his knees. “You can’t mean that.”

Hesitantly, he reaches out for you, but you recoil back.

His hands fall limply to his sides.

“Please, don’t be scared of me.” His voice is but a mere whisper on the wind; weak, just like his demeanour as the first of his tears begin to trail down his cheeks.

You don’t respond, opting to turn around and unlock your front door. Maybe if he believes you are scared of them, he’ll leave you alone.

“I want you to leave, Wooyoung.” You keep your tone low, voice steady. “Leave, and then I never want to see any of you again.”

Just as you go to push the door open, you feel a weight press against your lower spine, hands coming to settle on your stomach.

“No! I- I- Can’t!” He sobs. “I won’t!”

The words hardly register in your mind before you begin hyperventilating. You drop your bags, desperately clawing at his arms around your waist as panic seizes your entire body.

“No!” You shriek, chest heaving. “Not again! Let me go! Not again!”

The grip around you tightens in shock, but you perceive it another way.

“Not again!” You’re yelling at this point, words beginning to slur as you attempt to catch your breath and get away from the person holding onto you. You choke on a sob. “Please.”

There’s some shuffling behind you, the sound of the pouring rain practically drowning out everything else. You faintly register a name being called, and then the feeling of those arms being pulled off of you.

You fall to your knees, collapsing onto the cold, hard ground. More sobs escapes you, your whole body shaking as you curl in on yourself, begging whoever it is to leave you alone.

A stern voice cuts through the rain, but you cannot make out any words. However, the raised tone has you trembling harder, violently sobbing as you protect your stomach as best as you can.

Still, you wait for the inevitable pain to come.

It doesn’t.

Instead, a gentle voice begins cooing at you. Softly, you are shushed, and encouraged to calm down, and you can feel your heartbeat finally settling in your chest. Breathing begins to become easier, and the heavy ringing in your ears lessens enough for you to hear your surroundings properly once more.

“That’s it, My Dove,” It’s a male’s voice. “You’re safe. I promise nothing will ever harm you again.”

You blink, more tears falling from your eyes as your whole body begins to relax.

“It’s alright now. You’re okay.” A figure is crouched right in front of you. “Just breathe.”

Gently, a hand reaches out to cradle the side of your face, wiping at your tears all the while.

“Everything will all be okay.”

Finally, your vision clears enough to take in the male before you.

“Seonghwa.” You manage to breathe out.

“Hello, My Dove.” He smiles faintly, worry soon creasing his brow as he watches you attempt to push yourself up into a sitting position. “Don’t strain yourself.”

You look around, noticing another figure standing beneath the pouring rain with his back turned to you. Your brow furrows, swearing that you can see his shoulders shaking with barely suppressed sobs of his own.

“Are you alright?” Seonghwa’s soft inquiry draws your attention to him once more.

You look down at yourself, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Carefully, you raise your hands to your stomach, not feeling the warmth of fresh blood upon your skin as you do so.

You stare at your hands, touching your fingers to your thumbs to ground yourself.

Turning your head after a moment, you meet his gaze. Then, you’re nodding slowly.

A blink, and Wooyoung is kneeling beside Seonghwa, tears streaming down his face freely as he reaches for you.

“I’m so sorry-“

Seonghwa smacks his hands away. “I told you to wait for me.”

Wooyoung ignores him for the time being in order to reach for you again, choking on a sob.

You flinch, and his expression falls.

“Please,” his hands shake, water droplets endlessly falling from his soaked hair and onto the porch beneath all of you. “Please believe me.”

“Wooyoung-“ Seonghwa’s stern voice gets cut off.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Wooyoung’s voice cracks, and more sobs wrack his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

You can only stare down at your hands in response.

Seonghwa watches you carefully. You can feel his eyes on you as you steady your breathing, and Wooyoung continues to apologize profusely.

“Can you both please leave?” Your soft tone manages to catch their attention.

The way Wooyoung’s breath hitches does not go unnoticed by you.

“Do you need help-“

“No.” You cut Seonghwa off, squeezing your eyes shut as you curl in on yourself. “Please.”

The second you blink your eyes open, you’re greeted with an empty porch. The only sounds that surround you are the pouring rain, and your muffled sobs as you break down, cold and alone, just outside of your front door.

***

You manage to avoid them for three whole days. For three whole days, you see no sight, nor hear no sound of them, even when you pop out to the store for some groceries.

Gaby invites you out for coffee, and this time, you accept. Of course, you know it’s more likely that you’ll run into them while you’re with her, but the past three times she’s asked, you’ve declined her offer. She’s been nothing but kind since you bumped into her that fateful day, always messaging you to make sure you’re alight. She checks up on you, and you’ve found a good friend in her.

Ever since the town learned of the vicious animal attack that claimed the lives of Ryder and his gang of misfits, there’s almost been an air of ease that’s settled over the town. People are more talkative. His parents are moving away, meaning there’s going to be a change in the head officer running this division of law enforcers. Plus, it’s as if the sun is shining a little brighter without the fear of Ryder running rampant on unsuspecting townsfolk.

Which is why Gaby doesn’t understand why you’re cooped up inside all the time. A fact of which she expresses to you while sitting at the little table by the window.

“I’ve just been busy.” You brush the question off like usual, all too aware of the two sets of ears more than likely listening in on your conversation from across the shop.

Yeosang and Jongho haven’t bothered to approach you at all, but even you can feel the glances they keep sending your way out of the corner of their eyes. They’re respectful, but still aware of your every move despite acting as if your presence mere feet away doesn’t affect them.

You manage to survive the outing without a single word from them, and for that, you’re grateful. At least some of them seem to be attempting to respect your boundaries.

Then, on the fourth day, you get a surprise visitor.

It’s late at night when your phone pings with a new message. It’s your best, and closest, friend from university, Sungwoo, asking if you’re still up.

The moment you reply with a ‘yes’, a knock sounds at your front door.

Hesitantly, you walk over, peeking out of the little window to see your best friend with tears streaming down his face as he stands there. His car is parked in the driveway, and his sweater is on backwards, hair disheveled.

Immediately, you swing the door open, catching the sobbing man as he falls into your arms.

“He kicked me out.” He cries into your neck, holding onto your form for dear life. “After I confronted him about cheating, he kicked me out.”

“Oh, baby,” you gently card your fingers through his hair. “Let’s get you inside.”

Ten minutes later, and with warm mugs of tea in both of your hands, you’ve managed to calm him down enough to get him to tell you what’s going on. You listen intently, nodding along to his words and chiming in here and there. Apparently his partner, Jungwon, has been seeing other people the whole time they’ve been living together.

“Oh, Sunny,” your expression falls. “I’m so sorry. No one don’t deserves that.”

He shakes his head, taking another sip of his tea. “I’m sorry for intruding so late, I just didn’t know where else to go.”

His parents live out of town, and you’re the closest person he knows that lives nearby.

“I’m just glad my parents aren’t here.” You smile lightly. “My dad probably would not have been too happy about being woken up at one in the morning. You’re just lucky I usually stay up so late.”

“He wouldn’t be able to stay mad at his favourite person for long.” He cracks a smile.

“There he is,” you tilt your mug in acknowledgment. “There’s the Sungwoo I know and love.”

“Just a bit beaten down.” His gaze drops to the mug in his lap.

“Hey, it won’t always be like this.” You reach over to squeeze his arm gently.

“No.” He glances up at you. “It won’t.”

“So, obviously you’re staying for a couple days.” You say, standing from the couch. “I’ll go get the guest room ready.”

However, before you can exit the living room, his voice has you halting in your tracks.

“Do you remember that one night I snuck into your apartment after a bad date to find you crying?” His tone is soft, the inquiry nothing more than a gentle caress as he glances up into your eyes once more.

It was the night you told him about Ryder and everything that happened to you. The night your friendship truly became what it is today.

“You want to sleep with me in my room tonight?” The question you pose is tender, nothing but understanding in your tone.

You swear you hear the faintest of growls come from outside, but your brush it off as the wind. Besides, Sungwoo’s eager nod serves to distract you as you focus on making sure your best friend is taken care of for the time being.

Extending your arm out, you offer him your hand.

Carefully, he takes it in his own, allowing you to guide him upstairs after dropping off your mugs in the sink, and turning off all of the lights. You let him borrow a pair of your father’s sweats, grabbing him all he needs to get ready for bed. Ten minutes later, and you’re both crawling beneath your covers.

His head rests on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you softly converse. Your fingers card gently through his hair, and before either of you two know it, you’re both out like lights, soft snores falling from Sungwoo’s lips.

The next day is spent driving back to Sungwoo’s place for him to grab most of his things. He drives, and you do your due diligence and stare scrutinizingly at his now ex-boyfriend the whole time.

You grab ice cream on your way home from the little corner store, eating it on the front porch while sitting on the swing. Sungwoo’s head rests on your shoulder as you gently rock yourselves back and forth, reminiscing about university and laughing together. Seems you both needed the distraction.

Two more days are spent helping Sungwoo through this rough patch, going so far as to help him start searching for places in the area he can move into. So far, there’s a few small apartments for rent, but the first place you checked out had a mold problem, and the other already had someone else interested in it first.

“Hey, what about this one? Until you can find something else?” You turn your laptop screen towards him.

Leaning over the kitchen table which you two just so happen to be sitting at, Sungwoo pulls your laptop closer to him. Carefully, he scrolls through the listing for a loft right above the town’s most popular bakery. It seems to be in good condition, and from how new the listing is, you know that it might go fast.

“Looks good,” he nods, clicking on the ‘more information’ tab. “Might go insane from the smell of bread, though.”

“Like you would be complaining.” You roll your eyes playfully.

“Complaining I can’t eat all of it, yeah.” He snorts while looking into booking a viewing. “Oh shit! There’s a time available for today!”

“Is there?” Your whole demeanour perks up.

“What time is it now?” His eyes flit around your screen.

You check your phone. “Just after five, why?”

“Okay, the viewing is for six. That gives me just enough time to shower and head over.” He nods to himself.

“I would come with you, but I’ve got to finish this report for my boss by tonight.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair.

“That’s okay! I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.” He puffs out his chest dramatically.

“Says the one terrified of butterflies.” You mutter.

“They drink tears straight out of live crocodiles and turtles.” He states, matter of factly. “And they drink blood, too. Tell me that’s not terrifying.”

You shrug, chuckling all the while. “Go get ready, Sun, before you’re too late.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” He playfully salutes you before running upstairs to take a shower.

Fifteen minutes later, and with his hair still damp, he’s running back into the kitchen. A tender kiss is placed onto your temple as you work, and you turn towards him just as he begins to walk back out of the kitchen.

“I’ll pick up something for us to eat for dinner on my way home, maybe stop off to get some groceries, too.” He tells you while slipping on his shoes. “I’ll text you after the viewing what I decide to do.”

“Okay,” you smile, waving him off. “See you later!”

“You’re the best!” You hear him call out.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laugh, waving him off. “Love you, too.”

The door falling shut is the last you hear from him.

In fact, it’s the last sound you hear from him for four hours.

So consumed by your work, you turned your phone on silent and hadn’t bothered to check it at all before submitting your report. Glancing at the time, you see it’s a little over nine-thirty in the evening. Sungwoo texted you earlier on, saying he really liked the place, and agreed to renting it for the next little bit. Afterwards, he told you that he’d be heading to the store, and should be back within an hour.

That was about three hours ago.

Fear spikes inside of you, and your first thought is that Ryder has done something to him to get to you.

Then, you remember: Ryder and his goons cannot hurt you anymore.

Your heart stops, thinking the worst.

Perhaps you’re just overreacting. Maybe Sungwoo ran into an old friend while at the grocery store and got to talking. Maybe they went out for drinks, or something.

So, you text him.

Five minutes go by with no answer, so you decide to call. It goes straight to voicemail.

Panic seizes you, your brow furrowed in worry as you begin to pace in front of the kitchen table.

Something is definitely wrong. It’s not like Sungwoo to ignore you, or turn his phone off. Something has definitely happened to him while he’s been out, and you haven’t the slightest clue what it could be.

A knock sounds at your door.

Your heart skips a beat as the noise startles you out of your thoughts. You hope beyond everything that it’s Sungwoo just trying to be an ass and scare you, but alas, you know that it’s probably too good to be true.

Three familiar faces greet you behind the door, looks of concern on all of them.

Your brow furrows, “Seonghwa, Yeosang, Jongho, what are you all doing here? I thought I told you to-“

“Hongjoong has Sungwoo.” Seonghwa cuts you off almost immediately.

“Excuse me?” You blink at him in mild shock.

“We need to hurry, there’s no time-“

“Will one of you please tell me what’s going on?” Your brow creases, arms crossing over your chest as you cut Jongho off.

“The others are with him.” Yeosang adds, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. “They helped him take Sungwoo.”

Your mind blanks, swallowing thickly. “What are they planning to do to him?”

“We can explain on the way.” Seonghwa motions to a black car parked alongside the curb with his head. “Mingi’s already attempting to stop them on his own.”

“Why should I trust you?” You meet his gaze, noticing how the other two behind him keep glancing between you and the back of Seonghwa’s head.

“Have we given you any reason not to?” He counters, a slight grimace to his features.

“If you don’t believe us, just call him.” Yeosang motions to your phone still held in your hand.

“I tried calling Sungwoo, but his phone is turned off.” You uncross your arms, looking down at your phone.

“Not Sungwoo,” Jongho shakes his head. “Hongjoong.”

Your eyes narrow the slightest bit at the three vampires before you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Seonghwa pulls out his own phone, opening up the messages app to show you a series of text between him and Hongjoong.

Seems as if the eldest has been against this plan from the start, but the younger had been adamant on going through with it.

You whole body stills, and your hands begin to shake.

“What’s his number?” Your voice is low as you prepare to make the call.

“Don’t you have it?” Jongho’s brow furrows.

“I tend to delete call logs of numbers I don’t particularly like.” Your eyes dart to the youngest across from you.

A moment later, Seonghwa is clicking into Hongjoong’s contact information. Once his number is on the screen, he turns it back to face you.

You dial the number.

The sound of the call beginning to ring through is synonymous with you motioning to that black car with your chin. Luckily, they take the hint, and in two more rings, you’ve slipped outside after grabbing your keys and locking the front door.

You hear the ringing suddenly cut out, signifying someone has answered the call.

You hold your breath.

“Hello, My Treasure.” A pleasant hum is heard through the line. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Three vampires spare fleeting glances in your direction as you approach the car.

“What have you done with Sungwoo?” Surprisingly, your voice comes out much stronger than you thought it would.

“So, now you wish to speak with me?” His voice holds nothing but incredulous disbelief. “When the life of a useless, pathetic mortal is at risk?”

Your heart pangs as you slide into the backseat beside Jongho. Your assumptions about him seem to be correct.

“Careful with your words, asshole,” you spit, a frown marring your features. “I’m still human, too.”

“You know I never count you when I say things like that, right, Treasure?”

“Where’s Sungwoo?” You choose to ignore his claim for now. “What have you done to my best friend.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of your affections for him.” Hongjoong all but growls through the phone. “Are you quite sure he feels the same?”

“Enlighten me.” You hiss out through clenched teeth.

“You seem awfully attached to him.” Hongjoong hums. “Would be a shame if something awful happened to him.”

“I swear to god, Hongjoong, if you hurt him-“

“Oh, no, Treasure, God can’t save him now.”

The phone slips from your hand. Already, your mind is supplying you with the worst case scenarios, whole body beginning to shake as your throat tightens up.

You don’t even register how quickly Jongho reaches out to catch your phone, nor the way he seems to be cursing at the elder male through the line while sitting beside you. A blink, and your phone is in Yeosang’s hands as Seonghwa continues to speed down the streets, racing to a location unbeknownst to you.

Gently, Jongho reaches over to begin comforting you, attempting to calm you down while hesitating to touch you. Seonghwa told them all what happened when Wooyoung touched your stomach from behind, and now he’s scared touching anywhere on your body in this state might set you off again.

Then again, Yunho did cradle you in his arms that night all those weeks ago when they found your body on the side of the road.

It is with that thought that Jongho places a tender hand onto your shoulder.

“Why is he doing this?” Your voice is small as you stare at your hands, touching your fingers to your thumbs meticulously.

Glancing up, you see that Yeosang must have ended the call.

“He- they are all jealous.” Seonghwa briefly meets your gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Of Sungwoo?” Your brow furrows. Then, something is clicking in your mind as you see them all nod. “How do you all know about Sungwoo?”

The three of them stiffen.

Briefly, your eyes dart over each of them individually.

“Oh my god, you’ve been stalking me?” Again, your hands begin to shake.

“We prefer the term ‘watching over’.” Jongho mumbles, retracting his hand once you shrug it off of your shoulder.

Suddenly, you find the interior of the car to be stifling.

“How long?” Your hands ball into fists in your lap.

“I don’t think you want to know the answer to that right now.” Yeosang voices lowly, avoiding your gaze by staring straight forward.

Your phone rests on the console between the front two seats. Quickly, you grab it, holding onto it for dear life.

“This… bond we told you about,” Seonghwa begins, “it affects us all differently. Some of us have also been hoping for something like this to occur for so long, that the fear of rejection never really crossed our minds.”

“That’s not to mention our kind is fiercely protective over the things we care about without the bond enhancing those feelings towards you.” Yeosang adds, shifting slightly in the front seat.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is possessive.” Jongho sighs, closing his eyes for the briefest of moments.

You shift the slightest bit away from him, a fact which the two sitting in the front immediately notice.

“And you three are unaffected?” You inquire.

“We see reason.” Jongho’s eyes blink open, his expression falling as he sees you having shifted the slightest bit away from him.

“We won’t lie and say that we don’t care for you,” Yeosang says, a brief, tight upturn of his lips as he glances in your direction. “However, we understand that this is a lot for you, and that you don’t know us well. There are bound to be doubts and uncertainties that you have, and that’s not even taking into account what we are.”

“So, you’re all just better at hiding your jealousy.” A statement, not a question.

“We’re better at controlling it.” Seonghwa chimes in, turning down a dark stretch of road with trees surrounding either side.

“Hongjoong has been waiting and wishing for you probably the longest out of all of us. Well, probably besides Yunho.” Jongho tells you. “The bond is making him act on instinct; his darker impulses.”

You curl in on yourself more. “I don’t like the implications of that.”

“We’re normally pretty good at controlling ourselves.” Yeosang adds lowly. “It’s just you that makes us into anomalies.”

“Gee, that makes me feel loads better.” You nearly scoff.

“I don’t necessarily mean it in a bad way.” He turns his head to look at you.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You sigh.

“You’re scared of us?” It’s Jongho’s timid voice that cuts through the sudden silence in the car like a knife.

You heave another tremendous sigh. “Not necessarily.”

“Then, why do you keep avoiding us?” There is pain held within Yeosang’s eyes. “Why do you keep pushing us away?”

You purse your lips. “Now is not the time for this.”

Sure enough, the car breaks through the trees, swerving on the path to reveal a small cemetery up ahead.

Seonghwa speeds up.

Through the darkness, you can just make out five figures milling about. As you get closer, you see a sixth one on his knees between them all.

The car comes to a screeching halt, and you practically fling yourself out of the backseat. A terrified shriek escapes you at the state you find Sungwoo to be in, his beaten and bloody body covered in gashes and dirt.

You spot the bat in Hongjoong’s hand, the metal iron pikes glinting in the moonlight as he rests it over his shoulder. You think you’d be less terrified if the bat housed spikes instead of those solid metal protrusions lining the sides. Hell only knows what Sungwoo has already suffered through this evening.

Tears line your eyes as you attempt to run over to Sungwoo, your heart pounding in your chest. Only, you don’t get very far, Mingi grabbing your arms and holding you back before you can get too close. Even Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho get held back by the other three at Hongjoong’s command, curses flying between all of them as you scream for them to end this madness.

Sungwoo collapses on the ground.

“Pathetic.” Hongjoong clicks his tongue. “Weak ass human can’t even handle a few blows.”

“What have you done?” Your voice is frantic, tears spilling onto your cheeks as you look between him and Sungwoo’s tattered and bruised form.

“I’m simply teaching this rat a lesson for touching what isn’t his.” Hongjoong’s eyes flash maliciously beneath the light of the moon.

Your heart stops, dread flooding your veins. As you are being held back by Mingi, your whole body begins to shake.

“You think you own me.” Your words are but a whisper on the wind, but it causes the entire cemetery to suddenly become eerily quiet. “You believe I belong to you.”

Something in Hongjoong’s facade cracks, and his demeanour shifts only briefly. “No-“

“You just said it yourself.” Your hands are clenched into fists despite Mingi holding you back by your arms. “You don’t view me as a person. You view me as an object to be owned.”

The others remain deadly silent, watching this interaction with bated breath.

“That’s not true, and you know it.” He frowns.

“No. I don’t know.” You spit harshly. “That’s the whole fucking point! I don’t know you, and you don’t know me!”

“But, you love him.” Hongjoong’s eyes dart down to the male bleeding out at the ground at his feet.

A few displeased growls echo around the tombstones surrounding you.

“He is my best friend!” You’re near hysterics at this point. “Of fucking course I love him!”

More growls sound around you.

Hongjoong’s hand holding onto the bat begins to tremble. “I can’t let him live knowing he’s touched you.”

“You know?” Your head falls forward in disbelief. “You know?”

“Of course I know!” Hongjoong’s anger is barely contained, his own body beginning to shake in rage. “How could I not recognize when filth sleeps with My Treasure?”

You go silent, clamping your lips shut as you feel Mingi’s hands tighten around you from Hongjoong’s words. It’s starting to make sense to you.

“You think we’ve slept together.” You state.

“I know you have.” Hongjoong glares unforgivingly down at the man splayed out at his feet in the dirt.

“Right, because you’ve all been stalking me.” You nod your understanding. “But no, that’s not what I meant.”

Hongjoong lifts his gaze.

“You think we’ve fucked.”

His resounding growl, and the several others you hear around you, are answer enough.

“You haven’t?” It’s Wooyoung who asks, genuine surprise coating his words.

“Maybe we have, and maybe we haven’t.” You reply. “Either way, it is none of your goddamn business. I don’t owe you anything, and you don’t owe me anything.”

“You don’t understand-“ San begins to say, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“Then, help me to understand, because right now you are all breaking your promise to me.” Your pain filled eyes look around the small circle of gathered males. “I thought you said you would never hurt me.”

Wooyoung visibly flinches at your words, loosening his grip on Yeosang the slightest bit. Even Mingi’s grip no longer feels as tight against your own arms.

“I have to do this.” Hongjoong steels his resolve, despite the way his voice wavers. “I can’t let him interfere.”

“With what, Hongjoong?” You shout. “There is nothing between us. You doing this guarantees nothing will ever happen between us.”

“You don’t mean that.” It’s Mingi’s hurt tone that you hear softly from behind you.

“Are you going to hunt everyone I’ve ever slept with? Is that how this is going to work?” Your chest is heaving. “You don’t even know if I’ve slept with anyone, but you’re so adamant on killing my best friend simply off of a baseless claim. You might as well slaughter the entire town.”

“You already think us monsters anyways.” Hongjoong mutters, turning his head away from you.

“There is only one man I ever considered a monster.” Your voice is deadly calm. “I never thought you would stoop low enough to join him.”

“Then, why have you been avoiding us?” Hongjoong’s voice practically shakes the whole area as he rounds on you, the tip of the bat sinking into the mud as it falls from his shoulder.

“Because knowing the only reason you all started talking to me in the first place is due to some stupid magical bond that told you I’m your fated mate, or whatever, fucking hurts, okay?” Your tears have returned, falling freely down your cheeks as your chest heaves. “The only thing worse would be if you told me I was some reincarnation of your long lost love, or something ridiculous like that.”

The cemetery goes so silent, you swear the earth has stood still.

“You’ve been avoiding us this whole time because you think we wouldn’t want you if we weren’t fated to each other?” Yunho finally speaks, hands falling limply to his sides as Seonghwa, who he had been holding back, can only stand there, just as stunned as all of the rest of them.

“You only saved me that night because of the bond.” You attempt to swallow your building emotions, but you end up choking on a sob. “You all only care because of this stupid bond.”

“That’s not true, and you know it.” Yeosang shakes his head.

“It’s it, though?” You laugh bitterly. “Tell me, then. Honestly. If I were anyone else, and you had found me on the side of the road like that, bleeding out and on the brink of death, would you have stopped to help?”

If their silence didn’t already speak volumes, the way the majority of them avert their gazes says it all.

“All my life, I had hoped- I had dreamed of finding a soulmate, of them being real.” You voice falters as you bottom lip trembles. “After the shit I went through with Ryder, I just wanted someone to love me with all of my scars, unconditionally. Then I realized, it could never be real love if it was all based on some stupid bond, telling them that they had to love me. I don’t deserve to have that doubt always held within me. You don’t deserve that, either.”

You can tell a few of them have started crying along with you, tears streaming down Wooyoung’s, San’s, Jongho’s, and Seonghwa’s faces. Even both Yeosang and Hongjoong look close to breaking, and at the first drop of wetness you feel land on your arm, you know Mingi is faring no better.

“All of this for a bond that is telling you to want me.” You weep openly, the despair clear on your features. “How is that supposed to make me feel?”

“You-“ Wooyoung hiccups. “You think that we don’t want you?”

“Have you not been listening to a word I’ve just said?” Your voice cracks, turning your broken gaze towards Wooyoung.

“I thought we told you that despite us following the bond, we would never force it upon you.” Yunho reasons.

“Then, what do you call this?” You laugh bitterly once more. “An intervention?”

“We told you that we wanted to get to know you before anything.” Jongho’s voice is small, looking down at the ground as San continues to hold him back from reaching you or Sungwoo for the moment.

“But you insisted on avoiding us.” Hongjoong adds, somewhat bitterly.

“Because a fucking pull brought you to me!” You reply, clearly exasperated. “That’s not a choice, Hongjoong.”

“It was our choice to follow the pull.” Seonghwa surprises you by speaking, his words but a mere whisper on his lips.

“I’m sorry I’m not all I’ve been made out to be.” You say, somewhat bitterly as you look down at the ground.

“You’re better.” Immediately, your head is whipping upwards in Yeosang’s direction, catching his gaze. Your breath hitches as how earnest he looks, his eyes shining with the deepest form of sincerity you’ve ever seen another person give you. “You’re better than anything we could have ever imagined.”

You swallow thickly, your lower lip trembling with the weight of your emotions.

“I wish I could believe you.”

Something within Hongjoong snaps. You see it in the way his whole body twitches, his eyes flashing a deep red as black veins appear beneath them.

“It’s because of him.” That bat gets raised into the air. “He’s stolen you away from us.”

“No, Hongjoong-“ You begin thrashing in Mingi’s grip as you see the crazed gleam in the elder’s eyes.

“Hongjoong, stop this at once!” Seonghwa’s voice commands, ringing out loud and clear throughout the clearing.

Only, before the elder can take so much as a step towards Hongjoong, Yunho has him held back in his grip once more.

“Hongjoong.” Mingi warily calls the man’s name.

“You’re ours.” Hongjoong’s voice boarders on a feral snarl, his hands tightening methodically around the base of the bat as his lips pull back over sharp fangs.

Your eyes go wide as the reality of the situation washed over you: Hongjoong is going to smash Sungwoo’s head in no matter what you do.

Just as you watch the bat begin to swing downwards, you scream.

“No!”

It’s as if the world moves in slow motion. Somehow, you manage to tear free of Mingi’s hold which had grown quite loose, almost as if he had hesitated holding you back any longer. Still, you can feel your arms stinging, sure there are now cuts along your skin from his nails where he had been clinging onto you so desperately.

You throw yourself on top of Sungwoo, covering him with your body as that bat cuts through the air in an almost gentle, mocking arc. You squeeze your eyes shut.

Then, it’s as if the world resumes its normal speed.

You expect to feel pain. Nothing but hot, searing pain. Only, it never comes.

Blinking your eyes open, you look up to see Hongjoong staring down at you in horror. His wide eyes have no shortage of tears as he meets your gaze, standing frozen in his spot with the bat hovering right above your head.

A drop of blood lands on your face.

Shifting your gaze, you see Mingi holding that bat, a spire of iron mere millimetres from your face.

Tremendous roars reach your ears: some of pure fury, others of horror, and a few in desperation. The very resonance of such sounds causes the earth to tremble beneath you, a flock of birds taking off suddenly into the night sky.

A blink, and Hongjoong is being dragged back by five males, all of whom tear him away from you and that bat still held in Mingi’s grip. Snarls reach your ears as both Yeosang and Seonghwa pin him to the ground, Wooyoung, Jongho, and Yunho all standing over his trembling form.

Then, Yunho manages to calm himself enough to turn towards you.

He meets your gaze. “How did you do that?”

There’s a bitter furrow to your brow, “Do what?”

San is beside you in an instant, checking you over for injuries as Mingi tosses the bat to the side.

“Don’t help me, heal him.” You push the vampire off of you, motioning to Sungwoo with your chin.

You notice the way San hesitates.

Mingi doesn’t.

***

Gently, you cradle Sungwoo in your arms, brushing his hair back from his face after Mingi has fed him some of his blood. Slowly, you can already see some of Sungwoo’s injuries mending themselves, the cuts closing and bruises healing.

You turn your tearstained face towards the eight men now kneeling across from you.

“You’re going to listen to me, and you’re going to listen good and proper.” None of them have ever heard you use such a dark tone before, but from your expression alone, they can tell just how furious you are right now. “I don’t care who they are, but if you ever touch another person that I care about, if you ever hurt any of them, especially him,” you grip tightens around Sungwoo in your arms, “I will never forgive you, and you will never see me again. Do I make myself clear?”

A chorus of low ‘yes’s greet your ears.

“You want me to like you, but all this has done is make me despise the four of you.” You seethe, pure fury lighting behind your irises.

They all squirm beneath your intense gaze.

“Wait, four?” Wooyoung’s brow furrows.

You look from him, to Yunho, to San, and then finally, to Hongjoong, of whom you hold gazes with the longest.

“I don’t trust any of you after this.” Pointed glares are sent to the former four by the others you haven’t singled out. “And I don’t know if that can ever be rebuilt.”

“You weren’t going to give us a chance, anyways.” San grumbles, fingers sinking into the dirt by his legs.

You choose to not respond to his bitter comment right now.

“When he finally regains consciousness,” you motion down to Sungwoo with your head, “One of you is going to compel him to forget this ever happened. You are going to get your heads out of your fucking asses, pull up your big boy pants, and leave me the fuck alone. I want nothing to do with you after this. You may have saved my life once before, but all this has proven is that none of you are ready for a commitment like this.”

Hongjoong goes to protest.

“You let your insecurities and jealousy control you! How could I ever want that?” You round on him. “I’ve already dealt with one abusive asshole, I don’t need another.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.” You scoff, soon shifting your gaze to meet Seonghwa’s own. You stand back to your feet. “Now, Take me home.”

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bucketsofmonsters · 2 months ago

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Where the Light Enters - Part 5

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, past nonconsensual body modification, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 4k

ao3 link

Masterlist

With their spat mostly over, Rosemary was back to dragging Cole along with her on their missions.

She was still pouting, of course, but in her defense he was the only person she could show her anger to. She had a lot of pouting pent up and she’d jump at any excuse to use it.

Cole didn’t mind. He could clearly tell it was being done good-naturedly and watched her huff and puff with the closest thing to amusement Cole could muster shining in his eyes.

One time he blurted out, “The inside doesn’t match the outside. You’re happy.” His voice was tinged with what she might confuse for glee if she didn’t know him better than that.

He showed up ready to head out with her after she hadn’t so much as told him they were leaving and she didn’t address it, preparing to head out alongside him.

They were off to meet some mage who had sent them a letter. At least she thought the mage had sent a letter, she hadn’t been fully paying attention.

Her name was Vivienne. She was sure of that much.

She wasn’t sure of a lot of things about this new mage, but she knew one distinct pro that she had. She was not Solas.

She wasn’t sure who to bring in the attempt to recruit her. They were going to a fancy party so she assumed this Vivienne was higher class, but that didn’t tell her much.

So she did the safe thing. She grabbed her two other mages. At the very least, she’d gathered that there was a tumultuous relationship between mages and non mages so they probably wouldn’t hurt on that front.

But Josephine had made it incredibly clear that Vivienne wanted to speak with her and only her, so when they arrived at a massive house that sprawled over a lush landscape with masked party goers drifting in and out of the doors, she allowed the doorman to lead her to the room she needed to be in and she planted all three of them outside it.

She said, as clearly as she could, “Stay here. Listen for me, if you hear anything that sounds even slightly awry come inside but otherwise, just stay.”

And then she went inside, all alone.

The woman inside turned immediately to greet her.

The room was meticulously furnished, all done in shades of silver and light blue. They matched Vivienne’s clothes perfectly, like the house was built around her.

Vivienne had an elaborate dress on, covered in beads and embroidery and a thousand other things that gave her a headache to look at. The set of fabric horns atop her head matched it perfectly. The smile she wore was meticulously practiced, perfectly polite.

“Inquisitor,” she said, and gave her a gracious nod.

Rosemary smiled, a mirror of the one Vivienne had given her. “Madame Vivienne. I’ve heard you’re interested in aiding the Inquisition.”

“I am,” she said, and her voice exuded both elegance and snobbishness at once. Rosemary thought maybe that was the most honest part of her. “I admire your cause and I think you could use my expertise.”

“Of course we could.”

Before she could get another word out, Cole was standing between them.

Vivienne reeled back. “Who is this?” she demanded. “I asked for a private meeting.”

He looked at the door, and once more she could get no read on his emotions. He was such a mystery to her, it was endlessly frustrating. “Their thoughts were too loud,” he announced to them, “and it was tiring to make eyes brush past, calm, unconcerned. I don’t need to make her forget. You can see me.”

He was mostly addressing Rosemary as he spoke, and she wondered what was wrong with him. He almost seemed overwhelmed, eyes a little cloudier than what she was accustomed to seeing from him.

Vivienne’s eyes roved over him. “Eyes brush… What are you, young man? Are you some sort of spy? Where were you hiding?”

Rosemary was ready to agree with her as quickly as she could. She was beginning to see that it was certainly a better assumption than the alternative.

He turned to Vivienne, his gaze curious. “You’re both lying, layers and layers and layers, the real words buried too deep to mean anything. You can’t speak that way. Nothing gets said.”

She evaluated him coldly, worry lines creasing her otherwise flawless face. “Are you in my head? Inquisitor, tell me you did not bring a demon into my home.”

Rosemary said “I did not,” at the exact time that Cole said, “I’m a spirit.”

She seemed taken aback by their insolence. “But you did bring him?”

Before she got the chance to respond, Vivienne was speaking again.

“He should be put to death.”

“What?” Rosemary asked, reeling back a little.

“You heard me. I will not work with an organization that works with demons.”

Cole seemed hurt by the word demon more than he was concerned with the demand that he be put to death. He repeated once more, “I am a spirit.”

She scoffed. “If the Inquisition believes that is enough to make this creature docile it must be staffed entirely by fools.”

“Well maybe if you joined,” Rosemary said softly. “We would have a better head on our shoulders.”

Her tone was softer than it should have been, a little out of place in the argument that had begun brewing. It had to be to fight down the bile that had begun rising in her.

This never used to happen. She never used to react emotionally to things like this but even as she put on a calm face, she felt the beginnings of anger curl in her.

It was this horrible creature. He’d done something to her, somehow shoved her back towards humanity.

All of this would have been so much easier if she’d just been able to slit his throat back when they’d met.

“Have him killed,” Madame Vivienne insisted.

If only she knew that if that was a choice, the spirit would have been dead long ago.

As she went to speak, to respond with something, anything, to smooth this all over, the door flew open and Solas and Dorian walked in, clearly looking desperately for Cole.

Vivienne took one look at them with their staffs on their backs and then turned her nose up at the pair of them. “You have mages in your employ too, alongside a demon, with seemingly no safeguards. My advice is clearly needed.”

Dorian groaned. “And what safeguards do you think mages should be constrained under? You know, in Tevinter, mages would never allow themselves to be subjugated like you are.”

“In Tevinter,” Vivienne retorted, “corruption runs rampant. Here we are not quite so barbaric.”

He scoffed, “Barbaric is what you do to misbehaving mages.”

“Better than allowing them to become possessed by demons like this,” she said, gesturing over at Cole as she spoke, “with no consequences. The templars are not always correct, but your idea of circles is ineffectual at best.”

“Cole is no demon,” Solas decided to chime in, cutting off the venom that was clearly about to exit Dorian's mouth. “He is a spirit, and he deserves the same respect as you or I. He is no threat to mages.”

Vivienne laughed, a high, condescending thing. “No threat? You’re a fool, you all are.”

Rosemary wondered quietly if it were even possible to have picked a worse team for this mission.

“I assure you, the only fool here,” Solas practically hissed. “Is you.”

“I’m sure the people will be glad to know that the ones trying to protect us from the fade have a pet demon running around, unchecked, with their mages. Do the templars know about this, Inquisitor? It seems like something they would very much be interested in.”

“The templars are wrong,” Cole snapped, and it was more emotion than she’d ever heard from him before. “The ones who remember you are people are not templars for it. They say you can’t be a templar and be kind. Cullen had to leave.”

“What is the mad demon blathering about now? Words like this, against your allies? You treat this demon like a pup and yet you have not even properly taught him to heel.”

“They have trained me,” Cole insisted. “I move silent, shrouded, but together. We move as one when the knife sinks in.”

“Tell me you have not armed this thing,” she said, sounding more and more outraged by the second. “I demand you have it taken care of.”

Solas reeled back. “Taken care of? Tell me that does not mean what I think it does. You cannot be entertaining this nonsense.”

“Solas,” Rosemary said, fighting to keep her voice measured, “We need her.”

“We do not need someone who lacks humanity like this. Your soul is lined with rot, Madame de Fer, and I am no longer left wondering how you could thrive in those wretched circles.”

Solas grabbed Cole’s arm and attempted to pull him out of the room. Cole fought against it, planting his feet.

“She’s afraid,” he said, tugging against Solas’s hold. “Seeing me causes the hurt. I would not hurt her. I only harmed mages when I didn’t know, when I thought taking them away was the same as helping.”

Vivienne’s eyes widened and Rosemary suddenly wished Solas could pull harder.

Vivienne showed few signs of being ill composed, still carrying herself with the same carefully considered weight she always did. The only sign that something was wrong lay in her breaths, how they had started to come just barely quicker. It was hardly enough to notice, at least to most people who weren’t focused on reading every little tell every other person displayed.

“He admits it,” she said, and her tone was haughty. “He admits he’s hurt mages. Will you still do nothing?”

“He hasn’t hurt anyone,” she insisted, wishing with all her might that she could scream that she wished she could have killed him. That yes, spirits were manipulative, he’d manipulated her into letting him stay and then manipulated her once again, without her so much as realizing, into having her emotions bubble back up to the surface.

“They did that themself,” Cole said, and she wished they were alone and she could snap at him that this most certainly was not the time to be rooting around in her head. “They wanted to see the air again. You let them with me and they remembered what it was like to be restless.”

She shot Solas a pointed look, incapable of tamping it down any longer. “Please remove yourself and Cole from the premises. You too, Dorian. Your presence is no longer necessary.”

Dorian moved towards the door, where Solas still had his hand firmly gripping around Cole’s forearm.

“Does he really hurt mages?” Dorian asked as he headed for the door, and Rosemary didn’t know what the truth was.

“He does not,” she said with confidence. “He is kept on a short leash. It was let out today when it should not have been, and now he is being removed. The consequences of this will be discussed.”

Solas managed to pull Cole out the door. He’d mostly stopped fighting it, just staring at her from below that stupid hat with those massive eyes that peered right through her.

She sighed, desperately attempting to adjust her plan to the disaster that had unfolded.

Vivienne let out a laugh devoid of any humor, one that seemed to announce how absurd all of that had been and how above it all she felt.

“Well,” she said. “You most certainly have developed a fascinating little army, haven’t you.”

She shrugged. “The templars are our army. Them, I chose. Solas and Cole I was strongarmed into keeping. I am not the all encompassing ruler the rumors make me out to be.”

Vivinne evaluated her carefully. “No?”

“Absolutely not.” And then, in the name of salvaging this relationship and collecting the mage that she had heard was the strongest in the land, she did one of the only things she could rarely bring herself to do. She told the truth.

“I have no love for mages. I was victimized by unrestrained mages, you know. I didn’t always look like this.”

Vivienne scoffed a little. “What, young and beautiful?”

She nodded and fought the urge to throw up. “It was an awful thing. Blood magic, I believe you call it here. They twisted me up, molded me into what they wanted me to look like. Men, mages, whoever you’d like to blame it on. I know how dangerous they are and if I had my way, we’d have our own circle to prevent anything like that happening here. I chose the templars. I understand every word you say. I know templars could never incite cruelty like that, could never live up to the wretched actions a mage, unrestrained, is capable of. I have no love for mages and I respect your thoughts on the subject. I think you could be a guiding force for us, even if I have been pushed into housing a spirit in order to learn the enemy’s mind.”

Most of it, of course, was nonsense. Most of everything she said was nonsense.

In all honesty, she couldn’t have cared less about mages, and what those mages had done to her was far from the worst thing that had happened to her. She would have taken in every rebel mage and allowed them to learn every bit of blood magic they wanted if she thought it would keep her safer than she would have been without them.

But there was enough truth shining through, enough of a sliver of vulnerability, that she could see it shift something in Vivienne.

“I am sorry to hear that, my dear. In a proper circle, that never would have been allowed to happen. It is good to hear someone speaking sense.”

“Will you join us?” she asked gently, trying to not push too much. “I only want what is best for Thedas and I think we need you.”

“I will. And tell your spirit that if he comes sniffing around me he will be put down.”

She nodded, and as she did it felt almost like a bow. “Of course. There’s nothing else I’d like more.”

She left Madame de Fer’s mansion feeling exhausted.

Dorian, Cole, and Solas were all waiting just outside the grounds. She nodded at them and the two mages looked incredibly displeased, Solas raising his hands to rub at his temples as Dorian rolled his eyes.

Cole’s head perked up when she approached, blurting out words as he pulled them from her mind. “The truth shines through like sun through leaves, but it burns. It hurts even when you say it doesn’t, the face in the mirror being wrong. They say it’s a mercy, that no one ever touched the you that was. You wonder what she would think of the girl they formed.”

Solas and Dorian glanced between the two of them, trying to decipher the words.

She was too tired to try and spin them into anything.

And then an arrow landed between her feet and she was back in action, her exhaustion falling away.

Solas had a protective spell around them in an instant as Dorain positioned himself to attack and Cole stood absolutely still, not making so much as an attempt to draw his weapons.

“It meant to miss,” he said. “Sent between the heels to announce her way.”

As he spoke a blonde elf with short, choppy hair emerged from behind a bush, bow in hand, positioned perfectly so no one from the mansion could spy her from a window.

“The Red Jenny’s send their regards,” she said with a smile. “We want to know why you people claim to want to help and yet you keep going to the richy riches of the world instead of talking to the little people. We could do you more good. Could tell you what the actual people living here need too.”

It had been too long of a day for this. She could not bring herself to pretend to care about the ‘little people’ or whatever else this weird girl who had shot at her was talking about.

But manpower was manpower, and at least she didn’t need to grovel to get this one to stay, so she said, “Sure, come along, join the Inquisition. I’m sure we could find a place for you.”

The girl seemed confused by how smoothly this was going. “What, just like that? Now I’m a member of your little army?”

“If you want to be, sure. And I’m sure Josephine, she’s one of my advisors, would love to hear what the people of Thedas think.”

She was, in fact, not sure Josephine would care about this at all, but she was looking for anyone she could pawn this incredibly irritating girl off to.

The girl puffed out her chest a little, a smug sense of pride painting itself across her face. It wasn’t that far from what she’d seen in Vivienne, to be honest. She just hadn’t trained any display of real emotion out of herself the way Vivienne had.

“Brilliant. My name's Sera, by the way.”

She heard Solas do his incessant long-suffering sigh next to her and wanted to shake him by the shoulders and ask what he wanted her to do and if he cared about winning this fight at all.

Instead she just listened as he said, “You do have a fondness for strays, don’t you?” and forced out a bashful smile.

Then, hiding her level of malice as deep as she could, hoping Cole wouldn’t just blurt it out, she said, “You always tell me I don’t consider elves enough. Here you go Solas, this one’s for you.”

Sera scoffed. “Yeah right, I’m not an elf. Not really.”

Solas shot her an exasperated look as she smiled at him, sickly sweet. “Something for you two to discuss. Now I have important things to do, surely you can show our new recruit to Skyhold.”

Solas might well kill her in her sleep at this point, no matter how many smiles she threw his way. He’d never really fallen prey to them anyways, even before she’d begun antagonizing him as subtly as she could.

It made her a little afraid to see that she was getting bolder. She could feel it in the way she talked to people, more willing to antagonize, honest laughs and sighs escaping more.

She blamed Cole once again. He was ruining her perfect training.

Solas left with Sera, despite his obvious disdain for her. Dorian wandered off too, clearly in no hurry to spend more time with the Inquisitor who had unceremoniously thrown him out and had recruited both someone he hated and a spirit who may or may not have hurt mages.

She considered asking Cole about what he’d meant when he’d said that before realizing she didn’t care.

As they wandered into Skyhold, Bull tried to flag her down, waving at her from across the courtyard.

Cole’s head darted around as she began to resign herself to having to go over there.

His presence disappeared from her side and she realized he’d completely abandoned her.

It was fair. He could probably hear all of the things she’d thought and said to Vivienne. In his position, she would have abandoned her too.

Varric’s voice cut through her thoughts from behind her, shouting, “Hey, Rosie, come train with me. It’s been too long since you picked up anything resembling a bow.”

She saw Cole lurking behind him, staring out at her, and considered being upset at him for revealing anything to Varric.

But then again, she was exhausted and she wasn’t sure how much of Bull she could stomach right now, so she shrugged in Iron Bull’s direction and ran over to meet Varric.

He thrusted a bow in her hand and she sighed at the realization that despite it being a ploy from Cole, she would not be getting out of training.

Varric gave her a pat on the back. “Cole said you needed to unwind a little.”

“He did not say that,” she said, knowing the spirit far better than that by now.

“No,” Varric said with a laugh, “he did not. But he said something and I gleaned at least that much from it. Why, was I wrong?”

“The truth makes things worse,” Cole said. “Starts to unravel knots you thought were tied. I unravel them too, that’s what happens when I can see through them. Vivienne was right. Dead things can’t unravel knots. The string pulls tight. Things don’t count when they’re lies. They can’t hurt when they don’t happen to her. If they can’t count, why do you cry?”

She looked down at the bow, refusing to acknowledge what Cole had said. “You were right that I haven’t picked a bow in ages.”

Varric, always her favorite, chose to ignore Cole too. “Well, it’s never too late to learn. How about it Cole, you want to be the target?”

His eyes lit up as much as they ever did, shining a bit, at least the bits of them that she could see behind his hair and hat. “Yes please.”

It was a shame she wasn’t a better shot, she thought as he disappeared and then reappeared beside the targets. This whole problem could be solved right now.

“I could not,” he said, speaking at exactly his normal volume from across the range, and she could barely hear him. She wondered if he knew he could change how loud his voice was. “I told you, I am too slippery for you.”

She notched an arrow and fired it at him as quickly as she could.

It went nowhere near him. He disappeared and reappeared anyway, making it land even further from him. It almost felt like he was taunting her.

When it became apparent how truly awful of a shot she was, he started doing what she could only call teasing her, disappearing as she released the bowstring and appearing barely to the left or right of her shot.

It should have been aggravating. She couldn’t understand why it wasn’t.

Once more he disappeared, though an arrow had not been fired. She also couldn’t tell where he’d gone, seemingly leaving the range entirely.

A bit of shade encompassed her and she turned around to find herself under the brim of his hat.

He looked like the cat who got the canary, inexcusably proud of himself.

“You like me,” he whispered, a fondness in his eyes that made her sick.

“Shut up.”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his face, and then disappeared. She realized too late, as the remaining wisps of green curled around her, that he’d taken her bow with her, Varric laughing at her side.

#dai cole #cole dai #cole dragon age #dragon age cole #dragon age inquisition #dai #colemance #where the light enters #Rosie's so desperate to recruit Viv because she can sense that Viv has the strongest subclass

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themultifandomgal · 7 months ago

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From 2010- BBC Radio Teen Awards

2012

Part 26

“Ah the glamour. Welcome to the backstage of the radio 1 teen awards. I’m here in a toilet, a very showbizz toilet. I’ll be inviting some guests from the show to answer questions from this, the radio 1 tombola. One Direction hello” we all reply to Matt saying hi back “did you ever dream when your journey began that you’d be here backstage at Wembley in a toilet for the teen awards?”

“We dreamed about it everyday” Harry says making me giggle. Louis is sat leaning against the wall with his feet on the sink. Harry and Zayn are stood leaning on the wall. Niall is knelt on the floor, Liam is sat on the floor under the sink and I’m sat on the sink next to Louis.

“Now as you can see in front of you is the radio 1 tombola. Niall give it a spin, dip in and pull out a question” Niall give the tombola a spin then takes out a question “ok question 1. When did you last offend someone?” Liam explains that he had accidentally told one on the x-factor contestants good luck but they had already been voted out “next question if you were a puppeteer what voice would you give to your puppet?”

“Hello I’m… I’m James the puppet…. I went Irish, he’s relatable that’s why he’s James”

“I’ll be honest, the freak me out so mine just doesn’t exist” I reply laughing

“Niall let’s have another question please. What is the rudest thing you’ve seen on the internet?”

“Errrm…”

“We know what you’ve been Googling” I reply to Harry

“Come on Harry tell us” Matt says

“I don’t know. Probably them fan fics”

“They can get a little spicy to be fair” I say agreeing with Harry’s answer

“Ok Niall can you get out another question please…. Have you ever attempted to squat over a mirror and look at your own bottom? Louis”

“Let’s go over that one again. Your squatting and…”

“Your looking at your bum” Matt confirms

“I assume the bum hole? Is it to make sure you’ve wiped correctly?”

“Do we really have to discuss the reason?” I ask

“I just want to know the logic behind it YN”

“He’s going to go try it later now” Niall says

“Niall let’s dip in again. This is the last one… have you ever had a saucy dream about a celebrity?”

“Liam had one. He came into work and was like ‘I had a dirty dream about Kat Slater from Eastenders and I don’t know why” Harry says

“YN had a sex dream about me and Harry” Louis says

“Wait no I need to explain. I wasn’t in the dream!” I practically yell “I saw fans what is it ship…”

“Shipping” Liam says

“That’s it shipping them and then I went down a rabbit hole then woke up literally thinking that they doing the dirty”

“She came downstairs while I was making a cuppa tea and scowled at me” Harry says laughing.

After our interview we are then taken to see Dan and Phil who are doing another interview

“Welcome to the backstage of the radio 1 teen awards. We are here with one direction” Dan says looking at the camera

“I’ve invented a game for you. What you have to do is take these pieces of paper. Don’t show each other, it will have someone’s name on it so don’t show anyone else” Phil says. I take a little look at the name I have, Harry “your going to have 30 seconds to draw that person. Go” the boys all turn to the table but me and Niall look at one another. I pout at him since we’ve been left out

“Oh no YN and Niall have a disadvantage right now” Phil get me and Niall a pen and paper. Mines fairly easy. Just draw a lot of hair.

30 seconds go far to quickly. We show each other our pictures

“Who do we think Harry has drawn?” Dan asks laughing

“That’s obviously YN” Niall says laughing

“Ok YN”

“That’s Harry 100%” Liam says pointing to the hair. Zayn drew Louis, Liam drew himself, Louis drew Zayn and Niall drew himself

“Ya know what I’m gonna frame this” I say looking at Harry’s drawing of me making everyone laugh “no you know what I want all of them. I’m gonna frame all of them or make one big picture with them” I take the pictures from the boys. I write down the date on the back of the pictures and who draw what.

#6th one direction member #one direction x reader #sixth one direction member #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles

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hoeranghae1117 · 1 year ago

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as long as it takes (joshua hong)

you're just friends. she isn’t ready for that line to be crossed,

josh had to remind himself as he stepped to the back of the practice room to get a drink of water and pause the music that had been repeating for the past 2 hours. listening to the familiar sound of his footsteps, you sat on the floor in front of the large mirror and tried to catch your breath. without realizing, you stared at his reflection as he walked away from where you both had been practicing. josh had always been so patient with you, even when you were getting frustrated with the choreography; he carried himself so well, so--

no. you forced yourself to stop right there.

you're just friends. you aren’t ready for that line to be crossed

“i’m never gonna get that part down. seriously, i don’t know how you guys do it!” you said, a tinge of defeat in your voice.

he was still facing the computer, so he couldn’t see your expression, but josh grinned at the slight pout you were probably (definitely) sporting.

“hey, it took me forever to learn, too.” he called over his shoulder before turning around to walk back over to you. the 15 steps back to your form felt like 1000, as he watched you in the mirror: shoulders a little slumped, a zoned out look in your eyes as you undoubtedly went over the steps again and again in your mind’s eye. he wanted to run back over to you. crouch behind where you sat and wrap his arms around your shoulders. remind you that you’d get it eventually, remind you how much he believed in you, how much he--

no. he forced himself to stop right there.

you’re just friends. she isn’t ready for that line to be crossed.

suddenly, you looked up at him. eyes meeting in the reflective glass, giving the illusion that you were both closer than you actually were, your gaze softened and you smiled up at him. two more steps and he was standing next to your sitting form, still holding your stare.

“guess we’ll just have to keep going over it,” he shrugged and rolled his eyes dramatically before adding a more sincere, “you’re so close to having it down perfectly.”

before you could argue, he lightly rested his hand atop your head. the reassuring gesture unfolding before he could even stop himself.

it was like time halted.

you reacted without thinking: closing your eyes and gently leaning your head into the weight. josh’s heart felt like it was going to explode, everything was happening in slow motion as he watched all of it in the mirror. you couldn’t see the way he was holding his breath or the fondness in his eyes while you savored the moment. your subconscious feelings bubbling to the surface without your permission,

what if we weren’t just friends? what if i want that line to be crossed?

as if he could read your mind, he kept his hand where it was. the warmth where the two of you touched permeating all the way to his soul.

i can wait. as long as it takes.

#NOT PROOFREAD OR ANYTHING #JUST BRAINROT #JOSHUA HONG #josh fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #joshua hong fluff #svt imagines #svt drabble #svt joshua #joshua hong imagines #svt #seventeen #joshua fluff

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kydrogendragon · 11 months ago

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Dec 5 - Traditions

(Ao3 Link)

There were many traditions around the holidays: decorating the Christmas Tree, baking cookies, and watching Rudolph. But there was one tradition that Hob always looked forward to each year. No matter where he worked in this new century, there was always an ugly Christmas sweater contest. Hob looked in the mirror at this year’s latest creation. He had taken a truly atrocious yellow sweater from the thrift store and ironed on a giant reindeer patch on the top. Actually working colored lights were hot glued around the front, wrapping around the area of the reindeer’s horns. A bell was attached by the reindeer’s neck like a collar and a truly criminal amount of pompoms were glued all across the collar and back of the sweater and strands of tinsel were wrapped around the sleeves.

It was truly hideous.

It was perfect.

Stepping into the hallway, he spread his arms out wide. “Well? What do you think?”

Morpheus scowled at him from the kitchen island. “I think my lover has been consumed by a demon of Christmas. I would rather like him back.”

“Aw, come on now, it’s so ugly, it’s kinda charming!”

Morpheus rolls his eyes and looks down at the plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on the counter top. He picks one up and holds it to his mouth as he speaks. “I am beginning to believe that after six hundred years of life, humans are destined to go mad.”

Hob laughs. He makes his way near Morpheus wraps a tinsel wrapped arm around his waist. Morpheus glares at him from the corner of his eye.

“I will not wear your monstrosities.” Morpheus states with the finality of a king.

“But then how can we win the couple’s contest?”

“This is a competition I do not wish to win.”

Hob pulls Morpheus closer, turning him to face him. He pouts, pulling forth his extremely well practiced puppy dog face.

“Not even for me?” he asks, looking up into Morpheus’s eyes. Uninspired icy eyes gaze back at him.

“Begging is unflattering, Hob.”

Hob smirked. “Not what you thought last night.” That earns him a sharp smack on the side of his head. “Yeah, alright, I deserved that one.” Moving to hold Morpheus’s hands in his own, he looks back up with a more serious expression on his face. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do, you know that. So if you don’t want to wear that ugly sweater from last year, you don’t have to. You know that, right?”

Morpheus purses his lips. “I do.”

“Good. Then you know me pestering you like this is just because I love you and it’s fun when you get all petulant sometimes.” Morpheus narrows his eyes.

“Petulant.”

“Stubborn? Unamused?” Morpheus hums in response. “Well, either way, we should probably head out soon, ugly sweatered up or not. Carol always brings the best little desserts and they get snatched up almost immediately if you don’t get there soon. And I know for a fact you’ll enjoy them.”

Hob lets Morpheus go to wrap up the plate of cookies with saran wrap when Morpheus turns to him.

“Would me wearing this sweater truly make you happy?” Hob looks up from his wrap job.

“I mean. Yeah? But like I said, if you don’t want to, I don’t want to force you to.”

Morpheus stares at him for a moment before walking down the hall. Hob debates whether or not he should follow after. He decides against it and is rewarded moments later by the sight of Morpheus wearing Hob’s ugly sweater from last year. It’s a bold color mismatch of five different sweaters. A bright red one composes the sleeves, a blue one makes up the bottom half, a yellow one makes up the front right and a green one makes up the front left. The upper back panel is a black sweater with silver glitter woven into the thread. A sewn on three dimensional Santa face is plastered on the front with bright rosy cheeks. There are small ornaments hanging off of the sleeves and tinsel wrapping around the body of the sweater where the Santa face isn’t.

And somehow, against all odds, Morpheus manages to make it look almost charming.

Morpheus stares at him, brow arched. Hob has to close his mouth from where it had dropped. “I-you…”

“It is still hideous, but.” Morpheus walks up to Hob and caresses the side of Hob’s face. “You crafted it with your own hands. From the lives and stories of other clothes. You have breathed new life into it. And though it is monstrous in appearance, even nightmares have their purposes. As must this sweater, even if I do not see it. You do. And that is what matters.”

Hob could feel the wet heat of tears in the corners of his eyes. He looks up, batting away the wetness and laughs.

“Christ, Morpheus. Are you really making me cry over an ugly sweater?”

“Well, it is tear-worthy. I am sure it would haunt the minds of every fashion forward person on this planet and next.” Morpheus says with a smirk.

Hob holds Morpheus’s face in his hands and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose then to his lips. “God, I love you.”

“And I love you.” Morpheus nuzzles into the palm of Hob’s hand before sighing. “We should depart now. The less time spent on this, the better.”

“Aww, it’s not growing on you after that heartfelt speech?”

“No.”

Hob laughs. “Worth a shot. Maybe you’ll enjoy it more when we win that contest, ey?”

Morpheus hums. “Unlikely.” Grabbing the plate of cookies, Morpheus holds them in one hand and grabs Hob’s hand in the other. The two, paired in equally hideous sweaters, make their way out of the flat and towards the university where the faculty Christmas party was taking place.

To no one’s surprise, they won, both the individual as well as the couple’s Ugly Sweater Contest. Much to Morpheus’s chagrin, there had only been two others in the entire faculty who had participated. A picture of them still lives on the faculty photo board in the break room, Hob’s arm slung over Morpheus’s shoulders, beaming at the camera with Morpheus looking at Hob like he’s ready to commit murder. Hob might never be able to get Morpheus to put anything like it on again, but he’ll always cherish the memory of his old stranger, his friend, his lover, dressed in the epitome of a “no shits given” sweater and still managing a smile.

And when the next year came around and Hob created a new, truly awful sweater, the pair made their way to the party, Hob in his new sweater, and Morpheus in the tinsel and pom pom reindeer monstrosity of the year before.

#dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman #ky writes #december writing list #kydrogen's december drabbles 2023

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i-actually-post-stuff · 1 year ago

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Day 6 of @mcspirkevents Mcspirk week!

Decided to mix it up.

I've never publicly posted my writing before so feedback is appreciated!

All right now, how do I format this? 😂

I've decided to work with the "Only One Bed" prompt, to do more with this piece!

Warnings

Nothing serious! Just some descriptions of bodily harm via boobytraps.

AO3 link

Spock was sitting, legs criss-cross, on the floor. Probably meditating while the painkiller sets in, Leonard thought.

It'd been one hell of a week. From breaking out of a downright stupid castle dungeon to trudging through the trap populated forest on the way to the closest city- hell- even finding someone with a kind enough heart to lend some medical supplies and a bathroom was a nightmare. “What's a warp capable planet doing pretendin’ t’ be medieval anyway..” He grumbled, disinfecting the cut on his upper jaw in the bathroom mirror.

“As you are aware, Doctor, we were informed by the preliminary survey team that the Earloric people seemed to be strictly loyal to tradition. Clearly, the survey team was accurate; the technological advancements of Caruca Prime had little impact on their social structure and traditional practices.” Spock spoke quietly, with an obvious irritation, and minimal movement.

“Or on their medical technology. I really am working with beads and rattles t’night.” McCoy added with a hint of humor.

“I find your work to be quite unchanged. Perhaps you're better suited for the work of an ancient plague doctor.” Spock prodded. McCoy's pout turned to a frown.

“N’ you're suited to be one of those demons from the paintings hung in the church hall. That's why they wouldn't let us in.” He knew Spock’s bitchyness was the result of being interrupted out of his meditation. With the week they'd been having, he couldn't blame him. “Now go on n’ rest. I won't interrupt again.”

“See that you don't, Doctor.”

Narrowly escaping execution by the king was one thing. As usual, Spock had a particularly rough time of it; He'd been shot via arrow through his left arm during their escape while attempting to shield Jim, luckily having it pass straight through, only taking off a chunk of skin (still, nothing to sneeze at). Scraped and scratched by just about everything in the forest. Caught in a barbed wire trap that bound him up by the wrists, which could have been worse, if he hadn't been getting the both of them out of the way; it was intended for the head. Hit by the first energy weapon trap they found, simply by being caught off guard by it. Downright bodied by one of those cartoonish swinging log traps after having pushed him out of the way. And just earlier that morning getting his leg caught in a bear trap. He was lucky he didn't lose it.

McCoy himself had been a lot luckier; the only real trap that'd gotten him was a rope trap the day before. It tugged tight around his ankle as it whipped him upside down, and in the process it friction-burned off a layer or two of his skin, which didn't hesitate to bleed.

Now Jim was out looking for a hospitable house, or a church, or even an inn that would take the promise of compensation arriving with The Enterprise as payment. Leonard didn't think much of their chances. At least he felt a bit better now that he’d fixed himself up.

He looked over at Spock. Despite his impeccable work at patching him up and cleaning him off, he looked like a mess. His unbrushed hair certainly being the worst offender.

Leonard grabbed a hair brush from the sink, rinsing it off, and hoping that rinsing it after he used it too would be enough to avoid disturbing the already delicate hospitality that had been extended to them. He approached Spock, kneeling in front of him. The Vulcan’s normally perfect, helmet-like hair had gone wavy, tousled and dirty. His face tired, with deepened creases, the sunkenness of minor dehydration and certainly lack of nutrition, little pigmentation- say for his under eyes. He was certain he looked worse. Blasted Vulcan constitution.

Still, seeing him hurt was never fun. It put that uneasy feeling in his core, the one that would bring his hand up to clutch at his shirt over his stomach instinctively. It was that impressive Vulcan physique of his that made it all the more troubling when something was wrong.

“Doctor.”

Leonard flinched. Spock hadn't even opened his eyes.

“Your unease is palpable from this distance.”

“I'm worried about Jim, out there all alone with a bounty on him..” Not a lie, necessarily. “Now I'm gonna brush out your hair, you're a mess.”

Spock opened his eyes drearily. “You intend to take out your anxieties on me?” He scolded.

“Hush up and take it.” McCoy huffed, taking the brush to Spock’s bangs. He found after a few strokes that it went through shockingly easily, kind of like brushing a cat.

“I also have,, reasonable concern for the Captain's safety.”

McCoy briefly looked to his eyes before continuing. There was a level of authenticity in them, slipping through the exhaustion.

“Yea?”

“You were not incorrect in your reasoning for wanting Jim to stay..”

“Thanks for your support..” He remarked sarcastically. Spock hadn't said a word to support his concerns before Jim had decided to go out on his own.

“I did not say that I agreed entirely with your opinion, simply your reasoning.”

“T’mato t’mato, Spock.”

“Incorrect. In the region of earth of your origin it is t’mata.”

McCoy chose not to yank out a clump of his hair out of spite. “I mean it's the same thing! The difference is,, inconsequential. You should’a agreed with me if you agreed with my reasoning.”

Spock seemed to hesitate, likely deciding against shaking his head. “His decision was still the best option available to us.”

McCoy sighed. Spock was right. You win this round. At least the squabbling soothed his stomachache. “And when Jim knows he's right, trying to change his mind is like,, tryn’a keep a bull from chargin’ red.”

“Correct again, Doctor.” Now was Spock trying to settle him? He could have sworn he saw a little quirk up at the corner of Spock's mouth. How cute.

~~~

Another success for Captain James T. Kirk. A kind inn owner who would trade his hospitality for some manual labor on Jim's part, and then material compensation after arrival of The Enterprise. It was a great deal. The inn owner himself was not a fan of the king, having a large family that he found it troublesome to provide for. He seemed to be good-natured enough, having at least the humor to find amusement and non-judgmental intrigue in Jim's lack of hooves. Jim had also agreed that if it took longer than expected for The Enterprise to arrive, Spock and Bones would pitch in with their help. Really, there was only one downside to the arrangement (apart from having to make it in the first place).

There was only one room left, and that was one room with one bed. Now, breaking that to those two is a whole new challenge. It was easy for him to sleep next to Spock, it was an absolute pleasure. Sleeping next to Bones was even less of an issue; if he did something silly he'd get loving teasing instead of an unreadable raised eyebrow. Both of them seemed to be quite skilled at falling asleep and being rendered entirely unshakably unconscious. Sleeping like a rock, they say. But to his knowledge, Bones and Spock had never shared a bed.

Not that he hadn't encouraged it. Despite their bickering he knew the two of them made quite the team. He would venture to call them a power couple if he didn't know uttering the words aloud in front of them would make both of them leave the room in disgust, or at least feigned disgust. Those two needed a lesson in relaxation. You're one to talk, Kirk. He shook the thought from his head. Good news. We have a nice place to stay. He started formulating what to say. It's a, beautiful, inn.

He ducked into the alley, having sworn he heard the clattering of a knight's armor. It was right before his turn anyway; he'd find his way just as easily taking a left as he would a right.

He opened the bathroom door. Spock looked a lot better, with his perfect hair and pretty eyes. He looked up at him from where he sat on the edge of the tub. “Jim.” He greeted, relieved, Kirk knew.

Bones would have also greeted him if he hadn't had an apple in his mouth. The Doctor was sitting on the sink clearly enjoying what may or may not have been stolen from the kitchen. That being thought, Spock looked better too with respect to nourishment. So maybe the hosts were a bit more gracious than he'd assumed. Instead of a greeting from his mouth, Bones just slightly smiled at him and tilted his hand in a single wave.

“And here, I thought apples and doctors didn't get along.” Kirk joked. Bones rolled his eyes and swallowed.

“What's the news, Jim?”

“Well,, good news.” Jim started. “I found this, beautiful, inn, and the owner sympathizes with our issue. He's more than willing to put us up in exchange for some supplies at a later date, and,, some help around the inn while we stay. He understands, you two got the worst of it in those woods, so I'll be helping out for the most part.”

“And the bad news?” Bones could obviously see right through the easy solution to their problems. When is he gonna stop reading me like a book?

“Well hold on now, Bones,, I wouldn't call it bad news,, he just only has the one room for us,,, with one bed.” He shrugged defensively. “I've, been assured it's a very nice bed. Plenty of room for three adults. Polyamory is apparently, quite popular, on Caruca.”

Bones and Spock had instantly looked at each other, it was something Jim was choosing to ignore, play clueless and let them sort it out.

“I'll take the floor, thanks, Jim.“ Bones started as he looked back at him.

“Illogical, Doctor, Vulcans do not require soft surfaces to sleep on as Humans do. I will take the floor.”

“With your injuries- Spock- I'm not letting you walk on your own, and I'm certainly not lettin’ you sleep on the floor!”

“The choice is not yours, Doctor.”

“I'd say it is-”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Kirk motioned for them to soothe themselves. “save the debate for after we've seen the room.”

Bones huffed and passed the remainder of his apple to Jim, who accepted it happily; he'd been a bit caught up with hotel hunting. As always, Spock seemed to decide that such a silly disagreement was no reason to decline the good doctor's help. Bones hoisted him up and acted as a crutch for him, being the more suitable of the two of them due to his height. Jim suppressed his urge to volunteer himself. He'd restrain himself to opening doors.

~~~

A walk is easy under normal circumstances. When you're carrying someone who's twice as dense as you are, or you've got your leg recently caught in a bear trap, it's a whole lot harder. McCoy reasoned that's why getting to that nice little room on the second floor was grounds enough for Spock to withdraw his claim to the floor. It seemed that the Vulcan had non-verbally opted to simply collapse onto the bed. Although he certainly tried to make it look like a decisive choice to lay down.

Leonard wasn't doing that well either. Finding the nearest chair to slump into and almost as instantly passing out himself. But Jim picked him up. That irritating bastard clearly intended to put him in bed.

“Jim, you’re gonna put’me’right back down this’instant.” He managed getting the words out, squirming mildly- just enough to protest, not enough to actually do anything- he didn't want to be dropped, obviously. He wasn't a fool.

“Bones, you need some good sleep, I'm laying you down next to Spock and you're getting that sleep. That's an order.”

He laid Leonard right down on the bed next to Spock. They were touching, seeing that Spock took the middle of the bed accidentally. His skin was warm to the touch despite the chill on the Autumn air outside that had certainly nearly chilled McCoy to chattering teeth. Even Jim wasn't quite so warm. Hell, he couldn't even be classified as luke-warm. He was a bit too tired to theorize on whether or not Spock had a fever. It would be like that birdbrain to get one with his amalgamated biology. Poor thing.

“He's not gonna be a fan of me cuddlin’up’on’him all night, Jim, you know that.”

“I think the two of you will sleep together just fine, Bones. In fact, I'll wake you up before he's even close to waking up. So you don't get embarrassed.”

Well at least now his cheeks felt warm. “You hush..” He couldn't really argue.

The three of them were safe.

Spock was at least reasonably dressed for sleep, in his handsome black undershirt, and his work pants that never quite seemed to get in the way of sleeping in spite of their intended purpose.

He would sleep just fine in his uniform pants, and the blood on the back of his shirt had certainly dried by now.

And Jim would do just fine finding something better to sleep in than the ever so often torn up top of his and his own uniform pants.

So he closed his eyes, and he kicked off his boots and his socks. And after listening to Jim shuffle around a bit- clearly taking off Spock’s shoes, then leaving the room- he got just a bit closer to Spock. Being tucked against him warmed up his core. Hearing his heartbeat pump the blood through his arteries in overtime to fix him up soothed him; at least he knew everything was working right in there. And as he drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes he recognized when Jim came back in and carefully tucked himself beside the two of them, clearly quite intentionally reaching his foot over to touch him. Probably trying to let his subconscious know that he was there.

That was good enough for him.

Who needs to have blankets on top of you when you sleep anyway?

#writing #star trek #leonard bones mccoy #leonard mccoy tos #spock #spock tos #james tiberius kirk #leonard mccoy #s'chn t'gai spock #jim kirk #jim kirk tos #mcspirk week 2023 #mcspirk

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