#remember when I used to wake up at 8am… god.

[laikinz]

my sleeping schedule: pass out at 8am finally then come out of my coma at 4pm delirious and with the worst headache imaginable.

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt.6)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: The angst after sex is wild

Warnings: Language, smut, violence, knives, blood, drugs (cocaine)

Word Count: 4.8k+

You felt the heat of the morning sun on your face. Looking out the window you could see the sun begin to rise. You stirred slightly in Rafe's arms as you sat up to look around the room.

Rafe was still asleep, his arm draped over your torso. You could feel a pain between your legs as you remembered the events of last night. A plethora of emotions ran through you. You had sex with him. Like what?

You slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. You left your dress on the floor, slowly sliding open Rafe's dresser and grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. You pulled them on quickly and tied your hair back. You had obviously gone to sleep with wet hair because the beach waves were prominent.

You went for his door but stopped yourself. "Shit," You whispered, realizing his whole family was probably home. You were not taking the walk of shame through the Cameron's house.

You bit your lip as you looked at his window. Rafe stirred in bed and you squeezed your eyes shut, praying he wouldn't wake up.

He didn't.

You made your way to the window and opened it. Glancing back at your sleeping boyfriend one more time before you climbed out the window and onto the roof.

There was a tree sitting perfectly outside his window for you to climb down. And this wasn't your first rodeo. You and Courtney became pros at sneaking out back in LA.

You slowly lowered yourself, branch by branch until your bare feet touched the grass below.

You took a deep breath and looked around, making sure no one was watching you.

When you were positive you were safe you took off running down the street towards Courtney's house.

"Court!" You yelled as you pounded on her door.

Her mom answered the door. "Y/N? Are you okay? It's 8am."

"Oh, hey Helena," You greeted. "I'm fine, I just need to see Court."

Helena was in her robe, coffee mug in hand. "She's in her room," she said as she waved you in. She was obviously hungover from Midsummers.

You ran up to Courtney's room and busted inside, slamming the door behind you.

"Courtney!" You hissed as you jumped on her sleeping form. "Courtney, get up!"

"What the fuck?" She hissed, trying to push you off her.

"Courtney, I need you!"

"Okay, chill!" She said as she rubbed her eyes and sat up slightly. "What the fuck is going on?!"

"Me and Rafe had sex!"

"Oh my God!" She was up now. "How was it?!"

"I don't know, like, totally amazing," You said as you sat back on your knees.

Courtney looked over at her clock. "Wait, why are you here? Did you not stay at his house?"

You bit your lip and let your head fall to your hands. "I snuck out his window this morning."

"Y/N, why?!"

"I don't know!" You said as you stood up and ran your fingers through your hair. "I got scared."

"Y/N, he's your boyfriend."

"I'm aware, bitch. I just need a fucking minute!"

"Okay, well, like, did he make you cum?" Courtney asks.

You bite your lip and smile. "Multiple times," You sit down beside her. "Court, his dick is huge, and his tongue, oh my god." You fall back on her bed.

"Does your pussy hurt?!" Courtney asks excitedly, laying down beside you.

"I'm sore as fuck," You laugh. "I was bleeding after and he held me in the shower and washed me off and, Court, it was so fucking amazing."

"I'm so happy for you, Sunflower!" She said as she pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You felt your phone buzz underneath you.

"Is it Rafe?" Courtney asked, wide-eyed.

You pull your phone up. "Yeeeup,"

"What did he say?"

"He says 'Where are you? Are you okay?'"

"Tell him you're okay!" Courtney urges.

"Oh shit, he's calling me." You answer.

Y/N: Hey babe!

Rafe: Where'd you go, baby girl?

Y: Uhm, I'm at Courtney's.

Courtney: I got my period! I needed ice cream!

You were grateful for Courtney's cover.

R: Oh, well can I see you later?

Y: Yeah, yeah of course babe. We could meet at the club around noon?

R: Can't wait. Love you!

Y: Love you too!

"Oh my God." You sigh. "I'm a shitty girlfriend."

"Hey, no you're not," Courtney says as she takes your face between her hands. "You just lost your virginity. You're overwhelmed. It's completely normal."

You smile sadly at her. She presses her lips to your forehead. "Come on, let's get pretty," She says, dragging you off the bed and to her vanity. You smile as you sit in front of the mirror and get to work.

You spread sparkling purple shadow over your eyelids, lining a cat eye into your hood for effect. You pressed rhinestones all around your eyes and applied way too much blush to your cheeks.

Courtney stood behind you, straightening your hair as you finished your make up.

"Did it feel like love?" Courtney asks. "Like the sex? I've never loved anyone.."

You smile. "Yeah, it did."

Courtney smiles at you in the mirror. "You're so beautiful," She says as she runs her fingers through your perfectly straightened mane. "I'm so glad Rafe treats you well. I'd hate to have to slit his throat."

You laugh as you lean back against her. Keeping your eyes locked with hers in the mirror. "Do you ever want to fall inlove?" You ask.

Courtney shrugs. "Maybe. I just feel like I'm not ready to commit." She admits. "But watching you fall in love," She says as leans down and adjusts your hair over your shoulders. "Is all I could ever want." She kisses your cheek and walks in to her bathroom to fix her hair.

You fiddle with the 'R' that clings to your neck as you pick through Courtney's closet, already in your favorite blue bikini, you settle on a simple white dress. It hugs your breasts just right and comes down just past your ass, if you bend over you're sure to give people a show. You slip into a pair of Michael Kors flip flops and go to sit on Courtney's bed.

"You ready?" She asks. "Kelce and Top are already shitfaced."

"Did they even go home?" You chuckle.

"Probably not,"

You and Courtney run downstairs. "Headed to lunch, mom!" Courtney yells.

"Oh you girls look cute," Helena says as she gets up from the couch. "Meeting boys?"

"Y/N's dating Rafe Cameron," Courtney gushes.

"Oooh! He's a peach!" Helena says.

You blush. "Yes, yes he is. Love you, Hell!" You say as you pull Courtney out the front door.

"Wear condoms!" Helena shouts after the two of you.

You bite your lip as you stumble to Courtney's Mercedes. You and Rafe had not used a condom last night.

You climbed into the passenger seat. "Here, play something." Courtney said, throwing you the aux cord as she backed out out of the driveway.

"This song makes me feel alive," Courtney says as she lights a cigarette.

You giggle, taking a drag off the Newport when she hands it to you.

"I miss coke," You admit.

Courtney looks over to you. "Yeah? What about pills?"

You shrug. "Don't really care about pills. I just wanna be up."

"I have coke," Courtney says.

You turn to look at her. "Share bitch,"

"Y/N, I don't wa-"

"It's not opiates, Court. Come on, I really need a confidence boost. I'm actually nervous to see Rafe."

Courtney sighs as she pulls into the club. "Fine."

You clap your hands together. Courtney grabs the coke from her center console and pours out a pile, using her credit card to split it into four even lines. She rolls up two bills and hands one to you.

"Cheers bitch!" You say as you both lean down and inhale the lines. "Oh my fucking God," You say. "I fucking love cocaine."

You both hop out of the car and skip towards the club.

"Y/N!" You hear Rafe call after you. You and Courtney stop mid skip and turn to face him.

You swallow, trying to present yourself as normal. "Hey, babe!" You say, running and jumping into his arms.

Courtney stands awkwardly behind you. Failing at looking sober as she fidgeted.

Rafe notices and pulls back from you, taking your chin between his fingers as he forces you to look into his eyes.

"Are you high?" He asks, noticing your pupils are fucking popped.

"Shiiiit," Courtney says as she tries to sneak off.

"Did you get her high, Court?" Rafe asks as he places you on the ground.

Courtney backs away, hands up in defense. "She-"

"Yeah, I got high, Rafe." You interrupt. "I didn't do any fucking pills. Just a lil blow."

"Why?" He asks. His voice was broken. The fact that you had done drugs broke him.

"I-I don't know." You confess.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asks. Tears filling his eyes.

"There they are!" Topper and Kelce approach the three of you. "Let's fucking eat!" Topper says, pushing you all into the club.

You sat between Courtney and Rafe awkwardly. Kelce and Topper order Mai Tai's for the table.

"You guys okay?" Topper asks as he notices the three of you looking down.

Rafe had his arm resting on the back of your chair, covering his mouth with his hand as he looked off in the distance.

You grasped Courtney's hand under the table as you felt a panic attack rise. You were enjoying your high until Rafe fucking ruined it.

"Awh, how cute." You heard a familiar voice say. "Wining and dining the junkies?" Maria said.

"Rafe, does your little junkie girlfriend make you cum like I did?" Jessica teases as she leans over the table.

"Oh, ya'll are dumb." Kelce says before you and Courtney stand up. You grab a steak knife off the table and lace your fingers through Jessica's hair. Courtney twists Maria's arm behind her back and pushes her towards the door.

All eyes were on you know as you pushed these sluts out of the club.

Rafe, Kelce, and Topper ran out after you.

You slammed your foot into the back of Jessica's knees. Causing her to cry out in pain and fall to the ground as you held the knife to her throat.

"I'm fucking sick of the two of you!" You scream.

Courtney throws Maria into the dirt and steps on her back so she can't move. "Stay down, bitch!"

You had the knife pressed so close to Jessica's throat blood was starting to trickle down her neck as she cried.

"If you two speak to us ever again, I will fucking kill you." You whisper in her ear.

"Hear that, bitch?" Courtney asks Maria, pressing the heel of her foot deeper into Maria's shoulder blades.

"Y/N!" Rafe yells, yanking you off of Jessica. You pry yourself out of his arms.

"You were with this cunt?" You ask, pointing your knife towards Jessica.

"Y/N, I don't-"

Before he could finish, the cops were pulling up to the club.

"Shit," Topper said. "Run!"

You and Courtney fucking booked it out of there. Taking off down the beach. You glanced at Courtney. She nodded her head, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

The two of you grew up swimming. You dived into the waves and swam your way out to sea.

"The cave!" Courtney yelled. You dived under the water and followed her to the secret spot the two of you shared. Courtney had showed you the mini cave when you first moved here. You promised each other you'd never tell anyone about it.

Once you both entered the cave you pulled yourself up on to the small shore that sat inside.

"We'll have to get out of here before the tide comes in," Courtney states.

"Did we just fuck up our lives?" You ask as you held your knees to your chest.

"No," She shakes her head. "We need a break from the boys. And those bitches can fucking die."

"Rafe hooked up with Jessica." You stated sadly.

"He doesn't care about that bitch," Courtney said. "She blew him for coke."

"Rafe's just been around and I'm so...inexperienced." You say.

"What does it matter? He loves you."

"Courtney," You start. "Love gets you hurt. I don't want that."

Courtney turns to look at you. "I'm here for whatever you choose. But I think you should stay with Rafe."

"Why?"

"You're pushing him away cuz you're scared. I've been on this island for four years. Rafe Cameron has never cared about anyone but himself until he met you."

You bite your lip and hug your knees to your chest, watching the salt water wash against your toes.

__________

"What happened here?" Shoupe asks.

Rafe, Kelce, and Topper back up, hands in the air.

"We were just checking on them. We heard a commotion and came out." Kelce explains.

"So you didn't see who did this to them?" Shoupe asks as the officers look over Jessica's wounds.

"It was Y/N and Courtney!" Maria yells.

"Your girlfriend is a fucking cunt!" Jessica spits at Rafe.

"Well maybe if you didn't constantly run your whore mouth!" Rafe says as he runs towards her. Topper and Kelce hold him back.

Tears fill Jessica's eyes. "Yeah, cry about it bitch!" Rafe yells. "You never meant shit to me! You're a fucking mess!"

"What's your fucking problem?!" Maria spits.

"My problem?! This piece of fucking garbage won't leave me alone and now the fucking woman I love swam out into the goddamn ocean! Why can't you two sluts just fucking drop dead!"

Topper and Kelce stayed quiet as the girls started crying.

Rafe spits in Jessica's direction. "You're a fucking cunt."

Rafe scoffs and heads towards the beach where you and Courtney had disappeared.

Maria comforts Jessica as she sobs.

"You guys should really of minded your own fucking business." Topper tells the girls before heading off after Rafe.

Shoupe pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm so fucking over these goddamn kids." He says. "Come on ladies, let's get you home."

"You're not going to go after that psycho bitch?" Maria yells. "She held a knife to Jess's throat!"

"We will have a dive team come out and look for them. They couldn't have gone far." Shoupe says as he helps Jess and Maria into the back of his car.

_____

"How much longer can we stay here before we drown?" You ask Courtney as the water came half way up your stomach.

"Probably one more hour," She admits, nuzzling against your shoulder. "We should probably get back to shore."

You nodded in agreement.

The sun was almost completely gone. Darkness draping the sky with a slight tinge of sunlight.

"You ready?" Courtney asks.

"Right behind you,"

Courtney dives into the water and you follow her. Making your way out of the cave and heading towards the shore.

You flip over, opting to back stroke so you could appreciate the sunset as you made your way back to land. Being in the water was where you preferred to be.

When you finally reached the sand you sat for a moment. Pressing your body against the warm grains.

"Baby!" Rafe said as he ran to your side. "Baby, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Rafe. I'm fine." You said dryly. Of course he was waiting for you on the beach.

"I was so worried." He said as he pulled your head to his chest.

You couldn't help yourself. You just wanted to push him away.

You tried to pull back. "No," Rafe said, bringing you back into him. "You're going to talk to me."

He helped you to your feet and ushered you down the beach.

"We'll be here!" Kelce yelled after you.

Once you were away from earshot Rafe let it all out. "Y/N, what did I do? What's going on?!"

You just lower your body to sit in the sand as you rest your head in your hands.

"You regret it." Rafe says. "I'm so fucking sorry. I would take it back if I could. I never meant to make you feel this way." Rafe sat beside you, tugging at his hair.

"No, baby..." You begin. "I don't regret it. Not at all. I just got scared." You look up to meet his gaze. "And...I'm just jealous that half these sluts on the island have slept with you." You clench your jaw.

"It's really not that many." Rafe says.

"I'll slit all their throats and drink their blood from a chalice." You mutter.

Rafe smiles, pulling you in to meet his lips. "You making that bitch bleed was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Why'd you stop me from killing her?" You ask, wrapping your fingers around his throat.

"Because I'd kill myself if you got locked up. Living without you is my worst nightmare."

You smile at his response.

"Fuck me, Rafe."

Rafe doesn't hesitate to untie your bikini and toss it to the side. He quickly pulls down his shorts and lines you up on top of him. Holding your hips, he helps you sink down onto him. You were still sore from last night but the stretch felt amazing.

Rafe Cameron was inlove with you. You could tell with each thrust as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"Beautiful girl," He said as he thrusted into you harder. "Absoluetly perfect."

"Shut up," You moaned.

"I can't help it. I'm obsessed with you," He says as he rolls you over, pressing your back to the sand. "You're God's most divine creation," He panted into your ear. "Aphrodite,"

"Rafe-" You could feel yourself reaching your high again.

"That's right, pretty girl, cum for me."

Rafe thrusts into you hard a few more times before he releases himself inside of you. You can feel his cum coating your walls and you wrap your legs around him, preventing him from leaving your body as you pulsed around him.

"We're going home," He whispers in your ear. He quickly helps you to your feet, wrapping your bikini bottoms back around your body and tying them sloppily.

You could feel Rafe's cum dripping from your body as you stumbled beside him. You could hardly stand. He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you upright.

"We're going to Y/N's. If you wanna ride, get to steppin'" Rafe demands.

Everyone stands up and heads towards the truck.

Courtney grabs your arm and pulls you behind the group. "Are you guys good?" She asks.

You smile and giggle. "Yeah, we're good."

_______

You and Rafe fucked like rabbits. Your friends could barely get the two of you to hang out. His hands were constantly groping your body. Just feeling him close to you turned you on.

"Can ya'll chill for like 5 minutes?" Courtney chuckled, pushing a shot towards you and Rafe.

You bit your lip and smiled at her.

"You're a horn dog," She said.

"Sex is addicting!" You giggle.

"Oh so Rafe is the best you've ever had?" Kelce teases.

You bite your lip. "Mhmm. Only man I've ever had. And I don't think anyone could compete." You say as you turn around and take Rafe's face between your hands.

"Wait, you were a virgin?" Topper asked shocked.

"Wait, what?" Kelce chimed in.

Courtney just laughed and sipped her drink as the boys jaws dropped to the floor.

Rafe pressed his tongue to his cheek as he tried to hide his smile.

"And you let this meatloaf take your virginity?" Topper added. Pointing at Rafe.

"He happens to be very good at what he does." You smile, pulling Rafe into a kiss.

Rafe kisses you back passionately as he flips off his friends.

"I dare you guys not to fuck for two days," Courtney says as she sits on the counter and pours shots. "You have to spend time with us," She motions to her, Kelce, and Topper.

"Yeah, I could actually use your help with this Sarah shit." Topper said sadly.

"She's with John B, huh?" You ask as Rafe sets you on the counter and rests his head against your shoulder.

"Yup, she wants to be a fucking Pogue." Topper hisses.

"Well cuz of you, her little Pogue boyfriend is living at my house now." Rafe scolds.

"Wait what? Why?" Courtney asked.

"Topper here pushed John B off the Hawk's Nest after Midsummers. Now my dad has taken him in."

"I didn't mean for him to fall, dude." Topper argued.

"Wait so John B is at Tannyhill?" You ask.

"Yep!"

Topper grinds his jaw. Hating the fact that he lost Sarah to a Pogue.

"Top, fuck her." You say. "She's a cunt. We all know that. You deserve a good girl. A fucking Kook princess."

"She was that," Topper said sadly.

"Look man, jokes on her cuz look who she's with." Rafe said, placing his hand on Topper's shoulder.

"And you don't have to go near Tannyhill," You told him. "You can stay here whenever. Rafe's always here anyways, besides when he's working. And Sarah can't come here. I'll tell her to kick rocks if she tries."

"Thanks," Topper offers sadly and throws back a shot. "How's things with your dad, Rafe?"

Rafe shrugs. "He's letting me work again. He's still an asshole though. It's all about Sarah."

You roll your eyes. Annoyed that Sarah Cameron was causing so many problems for the people you care about. "Come on!" You say as you hop down from the counter. "Let's go get drunk at the club!"

"DOWN!" Courtney agrees. "I can drive."

"We have our bikes," Rafe says, gesturing to Topper and himself. "Wanna go for a ride, baby?" Rafe asks as you all exit the house, grabbing your hips and pulling you into him so he can place wet kisses down your neck.

"Two days!" Courtney yells at you. "Come on, Kelce." Courtney and Kelce climb into Courtney's car and drive off.

Topper gets on his bike and takes off. "Here you go, sweetheart." Rafe says as he hands you his helmet. "Hang on tight, yeah?"

You nod in agreement and wrap your arms around his waist as he starts his bike and kicks off towards the club.

When you pulled up to the club, you slipped the helmet off your head and shook your hair out, running you fingers through the waves to get them unknotted.

"That was fun!" You told Rafe.

He smiled at you and threw his arm around your neck as he led you into the club. Heads turning as usual as you walked inside. You spotted Jessica and Maria glaring at you. You blew them a kiss and wrapped your arm tighter around Rafe, knowing he was yours and no one else's. The two bitches were even more upset now knowing that you had enough money at your disposal to get rid of any charges against you, no questions asked. It seems they finally learned to keep their goddamn noses out of your business.

You all grab drinks at the bar and you and Courtney lounge in some beach chairs and tan while the boys play corn hole.

"Did you see how mad they were?" Courtney laughs as she looks over at you, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"At least they've finally learned their lesson," You scoff. "I swear I was ready to kill her."

"You're a psycho,"

You laugh. "You know, I've felt a lot more calm lately."

"Cuz you're getting dicked down daily by that!" Courtney says as she turns to look at Rafe.

You follow her gaze, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as you admire your boyfriend. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. Ready for him to take you in the bathroom and fucking ruin you.

"Ugh, snap out of it!" Courtney groans. "You're worse than me!"

"I can't help it! He's just so fucking perfect. And his dick, my God, Courtney."

"You've told me. You're an addict." She chuckles.

"No shame," You say as you both lean back into the sun.

You sipped your drink as you listened to Topper continue to cry about Sarah. You were glad he was venting to the guys because you were quite frankly sick of hearing about her.

"RAFE CAMERROOONNN!" You hear a familiar voice yell.

"Oh shit, is that Barry?" Courtney asks as she looks towards the entrance of the club.

You hold your breath, remembering what he did to Rafe last time. You quickly pull your knife from your bag as you watch Rafe and Topper walk over to meet him.

"Y/N...don't." Courtney says but you ignore her, following the boys out to where Barry was obviously upset about something.

You stood back a bit as you listened to the boys talk.

"My little sister robbed you?!" Rafe asked, confusion in his voice. "Sarah wouldn't pick a dollar up off the street!"

Fucking Sarah again. You had tried to be kind to her at the beginning. Since you were so close to Rafe and Topper. But now, the bitch had another thing coming.

When Barry grabbed Rafe and threw him to the side you acted quickly. Whipping out your switch blade and standing between the two boys.

"Not another fucking step!" You hiss at Barry, trying your best to shield Rafe with your small figure.

Barry laughs. "Well shit, Country Club's got himself a lil body guard, huh!"

You feel Rafe wrap his arm around your chest and pull you back into him as you continued to point your knife at Barry, eyes narrowed, showing no trace of fear. You honestly weren't scared of him. You'd dealt with plenty of drug dealers back in LA and one coke head from the Cut wasn't going to take you down easy.

"Baby," Rafe whispered in your ear, pulling you back.

"I'd listen to your boyfriend, sweetheart," Barry teases you. "Ain't got much protecting you." He says as he eyes your body. All you had on was a bikini, you hadn't even bothered putting your shoes on.

You attempt to lunge towards him again but Rafe holds you back, now wrapping his other arm around you, trying to cover you from Barry's gaze.

"Figure this shit out with your sister, Cameron! If it's not from you it's from her! Remember that!" And with that, Barry walked back to his car and drove off.

"Jesus, Y/N!" Topper says, finally letting out the breath he'd been holding.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Rafe asks, turning you around to face him.

You tucked your knife into the waist band of your bikini. "Protecting you," You spat back at him.

"Y/N, he's a maniac! He could have hurt you!"

You scoff. "You don't think I can handle my shit?"

"That's not what I'm saying! I just don't want you to get hurt! You gotta stop being stupid-" He stops himself when he sees the pain cross your face. "I didn't...I didn't mean that..."

You bit back your tears before pushing past him and making your way back into the club.

"Y/N!"

"Dude, what are we gonna do about this?" Topper asks Rafe, stopping him from going after you.

"It's not my problem, man."

"Rafe! This is Sarah we're talking about! Give Y/N a minute to cool off before she pulls a knife on you too."

Rafe looks at you one more time and then back at Topper. "Alright, let's go."

_____

"Can you take me home, Court?" You ask as you throw your knife in your bag and slip your shorts on.

"Uh, yeah. What was that all about?"

"Doesn't matter. You have any yay?"

"Some. Not sure if I'll be able to get more after you just pulled a knife on Barry!" She scolds.

"You can just fuck him for more."

Courtney scoffs. "What's your problem?!"

You sit down and sigh. "I'm sorry, Court. Rafe just..."

She sits down beside you.

"He got pissed at me for wanting to protect him."

She lays her head on your shoulder. "I'm sorry, babes. He didn't mean it. He just wants to keep you safe."

"I want to keep him safe too."

"And you do. It's just a guy thing. Not the best look for them when their tiny girlfriend is more threatening than them."

You both laugh.

"Come on. Let's go home. I'm sure Rafe will come back after he's chilled out."

You nod. "Okay."

____

You railed your fourth and final line of coke.

"All gone," Courtney says sadly as she sucks on the bag.

You had told Rafe you wouldn't do it again. Not after the other day. But you were stupid right? Stupid bitches do stupid shit.

Courtney sat and played with your butterfly knife as you sat back on your bed, irritated as hell.

"I'm getting pretty good at this!" She said as she flipped it around her fingers. You had far too many knives for a 19 year old girl. But you didn't like guns. And growing up in LA, you learned you needed protection. Plus, they were fun. You'd get them custom made in cute colors to match all your outfits.

You heard the front door open and close and you sighed. You silently prayed it was your dad, even though you knew he was in fucking Ireland, maybe he'd come home early. You were still upset with Rafe and not ready to deal with him.

But of course, Rafe Cameron walks into your room. His eyes were bloodshot, as were yours. The tension hung thick in the air.

"I'm gonna go..." Courtney announced. She placed the knife on your bed and slipped out past Rafe. "Call me later!"

You and Rafe stared at eachother for a moment. Accepting the fact you were both absolutely zooted.

"Thought you were done with coke?" Rafe said, taking a few steps towards your bed.

"Stupid girls do stupid things," You said sadly.

"Y/N, I didn't mean that." He sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. "I was just upset. Scared. The thought of someone hurting you..."

You sit up and meet his gaze.

"Look, I know you were just trying to protect me. I love you for that. But if I was the reason something happened to you..."

"Rafe," You began. "I feel the same way about you. But I need you to know that I will always protect you. I'd die for you."

"I don't want to live without you..." His voice breaks as he says it.

"So don't..." You say as you inch towards him. "We die together."

Rafe looks up at you. "What do you mean?"

"Like Romeo and Juliet. You die, I'm coming with. I die, you follow me."

Rafe smiles at your words. "That sounds like a fucking deal to me," He says, leaning in and kissing you.

"I want my name on your skin," You breathe.

"I want mine on yours. You're mine, til death do us part."

[popcornforone]

NOVEMBER

A part of the Marcus Pike Fan Fic Diary

Masterlist

October

I know this is quick after the October chapter & Pedrotober but I wanted this to be an election fic. I’m British so I don’t vote today but I did vote earlier in the year. So I thought this would be the kind of day the reader would mention in her diary.

Synopsis:- Your thinking about your future as it’s election day.

Word count:-700

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral sex, swearing, we get a bit politicial here, remember this is a diary so it’s all writen as I… & there’s a surprise if you’ve not worked it out already.

Thanks as always for the read peoples. I hope you enjoy

It’s election day Diary. Today we get to vote for who we want to run the country for the next 4 years.

& this year it feels even more important, red or blue, her or him, the future or the past.

I’m very honest about my vote, & who I will be voting for today. So is Marcus. Our vote does count, but we aren’t in a swing state. We vote much like the rest of our state. We just hope the remaining swing states do, for the better of all of our futures.

Marcus did message me this morning reminding me to vote. I replied saying I’m not gonna forget something that important. As he started work at 8am he had voted before I had even got out of bed today. I’m working from home this week for a few different reasons. So when it got to my lunch I got in my car & joined the queue, went in the booth & voted. Proud to put my marker down & let my choice be known. I’ve had my say that’s all the matter.

Marcus got home about 6pm. He looked exhausted. But it was nothing I couldn’t solve or so I thought I couldn’t as I laid across the sofa.

“You good baby”

“Not really”

“Bad day”

“No…” I looked confused at him. his eyes were soft.”I just hope the rest of the country realises who they need to vote for today”

“Guess it makes your work life…”

“No not work, our life” he said firmly. He came & sat on the edge of the sofa. “You are my priority, how can I care for you if… they(much like me Marcus doesn’t like to mention them by name) come in & ruing the last 4 years of good work.”

“But I’m okay baby”

“But what if you’re not” he cups my chin & softly kisses my lips. I get goosebumps from the kiss but also a sense of dread. A few thousand people hold the country in their hands.

“Marcus everything has been okay so far, it’s all good”

“I know baby, I just get concerned. This is the life I want to have & this is the world I want to live in” I decide to sit up on the sofa & hold him & we hug. His big strong arms engulf me like an eagle. He is my protector, my man.

“Well it’s a good thing we are in a state that cares for us”

“True” he kissed me deeper. He then noticed the news on the back ground & grabbed the remote to turn it off. He walks in front of the sofa & drops to his knees in front of me before he tugs down my leggins.

“Marcus?”

“When I say take care of you, I mean in every way” my panties were flow onto the lamp on the side table as I grab the sofa fabric. His tongue lapped away, my arousal will soon be glistening all over his face. I moaned. Oooh god I moaned. He’d only shaven this morning, he let stubble grow so he could be Joel for Halloween, but how his nose felt against my clit. That massive nose. It was indescribable. I’m so sensitive right now. All I have to do is think about sex or slightly brush myself & I almost come undone. He knows eventually the sex will dry up. So he’s getting his fill while he can. He knows come the new year it likely to be all oral if anything.

“Fuck” I screamed & tugged on his hair as I climaxed. Covering him. He lapped away, happy his work was done, a beam on his face knowing i was satisfied. I know he does a good job but today his care & attention as he ate me out just felt even more special for some reason. He sat next to me on the sofa as I rested my head on his shoulder & he strokes the back of my hand.

“I promise baby whatever world we wake up to tomorrow I will protect you, love you, care for you, fight for you.” He sighed & put his hand on my tummy. “For both of you…”

[havendance]

Help! I was Reborn as Robin's Father!

Chapter 1

ao3

Fandom: Batman

Wordcount: 2400

Summary:

I was just an ordinary university student until I got in a car accident and woke up as Jack Drake! Now I've got to figure out how to be a dad to Robin and also how to survive my inevitable death. I'm sure I'll figure it out. I hope.

Hey, remember that time I mention writing a Jack Drake self-insert isekai fic? Well I wrote the first chapter back in february and then it proceeded to rot in my drafts while I was at school until now. Not sure if I'll continue this, but I do have ideas and this chapter was fun to write. This isn't one of my priorities though.

Excerpt:

It was a Thursday when my life suddenly derailed. Garfield may rail against Mondays, but let me tell you, Thursdays are the really rough ones. On Mondays you can still be optimistic about the week spread out before you. By the time you’ve gotten to Thursday, though, you’re worn out and ready for it to be Friday, only it’s not, so instead you suffer. Also, Thursdays are my long days, so that doesn’t help either.

This particular Thursday was pouring and miserable. I would much rather be curled up in a cozy corner with a warm cup of tea and a good book, but instead I was driving down the freeway before the sun was even up because I had an 8am class I needed to get to. I hated commuting. Sure, it was cheaper than living on campus, but it was an absolute pain, especially in times like this when everyone forgot how to drive. 

I was mentally cursing the US’ lack of public transportation options that meant I had to do my own driving, when suddenly the car in front of me spun out of control. I slammed on my brakes, but with all the rain coming down, I found myself losing control as well. Shit, shit, shit. God, help me—

Suddenly, everything came to an abrupt stop. There was a crash, a flash of pain, and everything went black.

—

My head was fuzzy. There was a… beeping? Some sort of noise in the distance. Was it my alarm? Was I late for school? There was also… a voice? Maybe? I couldn’t make out who was talking or what they were saying.

I was tired. I was really tired. I felt like my body was made of lead. Like I’d used too many blankets and was having one of those dreams where I was trapped and couldn’t move. Opening my eyes sounded like a truly monumental task, and I didn’t want to go to school anyway, so I didn’t and let myself sink back into sleep.

The next time I drifted towards consciousness, it was quieter. There was still that beeping itching away at me, but nothing else. Barely conscious, I felt fuzzy and separate from my body. My hand though—I could feel the barest sensation of another hand in mine. As soon as I had finally put that together, the hand was gone. I wanted it back. Was it my mother’s? I tried to call out to her but I couldn’t speak and soon I fell back asleep.

When I finally managed to wake up, it was bright and I couldn’t see. Eventually though, my eyes adjusted. Mama wasn’t there. I was lying in a hospital bed. I felt tired and weak and could barely move. There was a nurse in the room with me. She brightened when she saw I was awake.

“Mr Drake!” she said. “You’re awake!”

Keep reading on ao3!

[syn4k]

Hi. You know why I’m here.

"I sure as hell do not," responded Cleo suspiciously, standing just inside the door. "It's 4am."

"Okay," said Joe. "Do you remember last Wednesday evening?"

"What, when you gave me the cane and told me you'd be back at this time next week?"

"Yeah."

"Wait. You- oh my gods," groaned Cleo. "Please tell me you didn't bring the rest of the HHH crew."

"No, Wels almost stabbed me when I tried to wake him up. Jevin was stuck in a crevice in his roof. X is off somewhere doing something and nobody knows where he is."

"Great! Maybe you should take a page out of their book and leave me alone," said Cleo, shutting the door. There was a long silence of 15 seconds.

"I'm not leaving," called Joe from the other side.

"Suit yourself," said Cleo, voice getting fainter as she walked farther into the house. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight." Through the door, the faint clunk of a wooden cane could be heard, and Joe had to smile.

Cleo woke for the second time at 8am and walked into their kitchen to find Joe on the couch.

"You're not leaving, are you," she said. It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Nope," said Joe, taking out a sheaf of hastily stapled together copy paper. (Cleo sighed.) "Now, I wrote a manual for how to use this."

"Do I have to read that?"

"Yes."

[mtnkat3]

Tired

Yep. Just roll me back under the covers & give me an iv of warm... coffee? Mocha cappuccino.. hm.. Good morning my loves .. happy Saturday. Wondering if 6 hours sleep every night for a while is enough... hit my sleep app at 2.14am. Just gemme peaceful hidden cabin.. warm & cozy covers & drink to wake me up.. all with waking up to you . All together & I'll know what paradise is. Yeah.. waking to your love.. rather than the sunbeam into the eyeballs..with alarms & alerts to remind me it's 8am & get your ass up t! I gotta a life to rebuild! Yep, don't get to skip the work to the good stuff! Gotta do it to earn the good stuff! Like today I think is get "gift turkey" [I was given a turkey for Christmas. Like other family members. Wtfh. I don't do for 2! So gotta thaw it in fridge then butcher it down to parts for quicker cooking.I usually do tenderloin its quicker & not wasteful. Guess the animals are gonna enjoy a carcass this year! Lmao!] After get that bugger into fridge I'm gonna be putting together my shelving units, since got a lot of my supplies in now can make progress! While I wait on the damn attys. Why some people can get away with evil.. I'll never know. Sigh. But mom's getting her surgery. Thank You Jesus! 12.1.2022. Just pray it fixes it this time. And she starts using a walking stick outside! [Osteoporosis is no joke when we're all, family women left, 5'9"! Just stumbling & falling, when walking around her outside plants, she rebroke vertebra damaged in 2016!] And I can't help. 300+ miles away. One of those double edged swords. It's good for me so I can heal. But my marshmallow heart hurts & feels guilty that I'm not there to help! Answer questions, physically help, nothing. It hurts my soul to not help. Sigh. Anyways.. some of the stuff going on with me at present. Right now.. just wanna nice hot shower with tons of body jets & big ass rainhead shower.. nice loofah & a nice smelling body gel.. & you . Life would be absolutely freaking perfect. Oh & warm towels & autumn spiced beverage. Cheeky grin. But even as I deal with reality.. & the unknown. . I remember the book I'm reading ..battlefield of the mind. and I thank God. He is with me. And even though it makes me really cranky that I'm still outta the loop of knowing.. I feel in my soul that I won't be for much longer. That's what keeps me going.. knowing that God & you . know.. I won't ever give up. It's not how he Created me. So I keep fighting to live. And pray you feel my love.. and know.. I. Am. Coming. I will make it. Because that's what God is Teaching & Guiding me todo.He's not giving up on me!I won't either! ~True love never dies & true love always waits!.~ Your humble listening closely quietly carefully . . complex quirky warrior queen daughter. ~Tijgeress kat Phoenix. ✝️🌺🐾🐯🤓👩🙇‍♀️🙏⚓🦉🐢🐛🌂🔗⛓🧰⌚⚡🌠🗝🔱⚜💝🐻🦌🧩♠️ ♾🕯🧭Sa.11.19.2022 9.49am est. Dang lag!

[dzpenumbra]

7/29/23

I'm "getting this over with" (in my not-so-positive words) because I want to go and give myself a deep tissue massage on my legs, and hopefully my back if I can reach it, before an early night to bed. The massage oil I ordered got here and I haven't had a chance to try it out. Tonight is the night.

Why tonight? I woke up after 2 hours of sleep at 8AM. I had this intense feeling that something happened. I really couldn't put my finger on it at all. I had no idea why I had woken up. I was exhausted, I had showered, I was good to sleep, I fell asleep somewhat quickly. But... something was off. And it was enough for me to wake up and not be able to go back to sleep.

I kept feeling compelled to look at my phone. So... I did. And I saw green, which means either a missed call or a missed text. I had missed a text from an old friend from college. One who I was a groomsman for at his first wedding. Who I hadn't talked to in 4 years... and when I did then, it was reconnecting after many years... And the last time I talked to him was the summer when... I was transforming, and smoking a ton of weed, and tapering off of meds unsupervised. And... I'm just going to say it. I had a lot of people close to me gaslight me into thinking that I was crazy in that period of time. Mostly because I was smoking a ton and having a lot of panic attacks, and experimenting with spiritual practices a lot and very openly. My family and one of my former best friends made very overt accusations that they were fearing I was "losing my mind", or "going manic" or something. When really... I was just starting to live again, and reconnect with my self and my imagination again, after being in an incredibly unhealthy relationship and mindset for way too long. It was really a surreal and blissful time in my life.

But I scrolled up to see the last texts we exchanged. There was an exchange where I told him I was sorry I had to get off the phone because someone showed up at my house. I have no idea who, and I guarantee that was the last exchange we had. But before that... was a very lengthy text from me that I didn't read the entirety of. It was at a time when I was rebuilding my life using some practices from Russel Brand's Mentors book, and some adopted 12 Step stuff that I picked up by proxy in mental health support groups. Basically, I reached out to people that I valued and hadn't spoken to in a long time, I tore my filters off entirely and I just poured my heart out. Said everything I needed to say, as though I was lying on my death bed.

I should be proud of that. I am embarrassed. The fact that none of those messages were really followed up on by anyone? In my recollection at least, maybe they did and I was just too high to remember. But I just... I see the long text. I remember it came from that summer. I flash back to the horrible accusations that my family and my "friend" made about me. For some reason... I side with them?! And then I reflexively start feeling super ashamed, like... "oh god, why did I do that. I don't even want to know what delusional shit I said." Like I had drunk texted someone or something, I guess.

But yeah, the text was from my college friend. He was a real blue collar guy, we used to play guitar together and went fishing a lot. He taught me how to play slide guitar with a Bic lighter, I introduced him to metal. When he used to drive trucks cross-country, he used to call me in the middle of the night (for my time zone) and we'd keep each other company until the wee hours of the morning just talking about life. I designed a full thigh tattoo for his ex-wife, it's by far my most impressive tattoo design, and the first one I did for another person other than myself (I think). But we haven't spoken in ages. He came over and visited my house in 2018 and went fishing with me at the pond I lived on, and stayed the night. One of only two visitors to ever stay the night in my guest room at the house I rented for 5 years. And that was that.

He was texting me saying he wanted a logo for his company and wanted to know if I wanted a paid gig. This is two gig opportunities in one month. It's hard to process. I... blew a gasket.

I wrote a full page google doc and split it into messages to my therapist which have still gone unanswered. And likely for the best, honestly... just writing it and getting it out to another person was exactly what I needed. (I feel like I should apologize to him, since I was looking for advice and I already made a decision... but I'm curious to see what he has to say.) I was upset that my friend was just approaching me all business-like. I felt like he was just throwing a bone to me out of pity, or doing what the last guy did and trying to like... get a budget piece done by me because I don't have any work right now... I don't have any viewers/followers... and like... I'm "a friend"... so... discount, right? <wink wink>

He wanted a design that was scalable. A logo. Graphic design. I have a degree in fucking acrylic painting. I haven't touched vector-based work since 2009. I don't even remember how Illustrator even works, I think I used it a total of two classes. I haven't even used an Adobe product in... god knows how long. But on top of that, I started getting super upset that... when people see an artist of any kind, they just assume you do graphic design. Like... if you are a pen and ink artist who has done B+W bird illustrations your whole life, you are apparently supposed to know how to work Illustrator and Photoshop. As though they're even the same medium. It made me angry. I told my therapist, it felt like if I went up to him and said, "hey man, you're a therapist, you could do physical therapy for me, right?"

After about an hour of freaking out and fuming, and sending the messages... I took like half an hour and got some food and really thought about it. What are my concerns? "I don't want to screw up, or make a sub-par product because of my lack of experience with a foreign medium." "I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know how to use the program, I don't know file formats, it's all new to me." "I want him to get the best quality end result that he's looking for."

So... in a moment of absolute brilliance that may have changed the course of my life... well, at least in a minor way... I decided to pull up a tutorial on Illustrator. Adobe offers a 7-day free trial with it, and then it's $21/month just for Illustrator. And I thought... hmm... I might be able to use this for like... making scalable vector assets for my visualizer program... hmm... So I watched the tutorial on Illustrator and holy fucking shit is it easy to use. It's basic shit. It's just... a different way of drawing, and it's mostly going to be tracing, so it's really not going to be an issue. The only issue I have is file formats and I can figure that out whenever. And being able to afford the program but like... it's 20 bucks, man. I can afford that, and I can just cancel after if I don't need it anymore.

I decided... in a moment of genius... to do exactly what I did with that long text message. But in response to the job offer. I told him it really meant the world to me that he kept me in mind for this, and I'd absolutely love to be involved in any capacity I can. I also disclosed that I had not worked in vector-based formats since 2009. But I told him that Adobe makes their shit very user-friendly these days and I'd be down to learn a new medium as long as he's aware that... that's what's happening.

I know it's apparently really common to lie on resumes or lie to clients and say you have experience that you don't... and then google your way through projects. Or just hope they don't notice. I can't bring myself to lie to people, friends or strangers alike. And that has resulted in me losing a lot of opportunities. But the step I took today? I put that decision in his hands. So he can make an educated, informed decision about the logo for his welding business. I did not exclude myself from the running. I did not say "sorry, no, I'm not qualified for that. Thanks for thinking of me, though." I said fucking "yes, but this is the whole picture, is this picture okay with you?" And he confirmed. He was talking very business through text, which was kinda awkward for me, honestly. It... felt a bit like... home... <shudder> But I'm sure that's just... him trying to be professional because he's a business owner now, and holy shit and I goddamn proud of him for it. He is one of the two hardest workers I have known my entire life. The other one did it out of addiction, distraction, coping and fear. I'm still not fully sure what his story is. But I do know that he has been a garbage man, a cross-country trucker, a mechanic, tons of Dirty Jobs. And I've always known him to be a people-person, so I feel he has well earned his title to be running the show.

I was a bit... concerned that it would all be cold business with him. The he had changed. And maybe he has, jury is still out. But he sent me an email with his ideas... and in it he said some heartwarming stuff. In a very... closeted manly kind of way. Very brief, direct and to the point. "Thank you, I'm stoked to have your input on this." You know why this warmed my heart? Because super professional business people don't fucking say "stoked". XD And if we're going to brainstorm creative ideas, I'm going to be barefoot and have incense going and I'm going to be swearing up a storm, so... welcome to my office, motherfucker! XD

Being an artist is so weird. I feel like putting on a cold business persona literally damages my business. Because my work is like... a reflection of me. And I'm sitting here wearing hemp jewelry and beads and shit and talking like I'm wearing a suit? Doing good business is not wearing the proper uniform or speaking the proper language. Well, I mean... in some fields, sure... But sure as fuck not in art, in my opinion. And I'd say you could say the same for welding or mechanics, shit like that. I think it's WAY more important to be ethical. To be a Good Dude. To be kind and considerate and compassionate, and find ways for everyone to win, as much as possible. To make a good product, or provide a good service, and be thoughtful and kind. That's it. You can swear when you do that. You can talk like I talk. You can wear sleeveless shirts and be barefoot and smell like exotic essential oils. If someone judges you for that, they are not a good client.

So, that went well. We're going to link up tomorrow and... the ball is in... my court? And I allowed it to be there. ... Wow, right? And he left the option to either do a phone call or... meet... in-person? Right? This whole time I thought he was living several hours south of me... turns out he's 20 minutes away from me right now. XD Last I checked he wasn't even in the state!

So... that's going to be tomorrow. I stayed up and worked on my grip tape, got half of the 7th ring done. These big detailed pedals take a while, so it might be another 3 days? Plus this graphic design stuff on top. I am just dying to finish it though, I want to skate so fucking bad and I'm a bit scared to skate it before I finish the detail entirely.

I then did more dishes and... cleaned the kitchen counters... and... then went on to clean my entire fucking house. Vacuumed, mopped the floors, cleaned the counters, dusted, everything. Everything short of laundry and fully cleaning my work station. I even cleaned my yoga mat, which has so much heavy wear to it now that I might need a new one soon. Which is like... a "holy shit" moment.

I tried to nap, and... kinda failed? I don't remember sleeping at all, but I was there for an hour and a half. So... I must've dozed off for a bit. I got up and started working on prototypes already. I did two full notebook pages of 6 sketches and notes. Then I did yoga, ate leftovers from last night and... here I am.

Now I'm going to give my poor aching muscles a deep massage the best I can, listen to Adam Savage tell some stories from the glory days, and then take a nice shower because I am a stinky sweaty man. And then try to get to bed at a human hour, like... before 3AM. Thus... why I'm doing this now, around midnight. So... fingers crossed for a good night's sleep and... we'll see what tomorrow has in store!

[wordsofgravity]

dear big bear,

when you left me, you took everything. (nearly. you let me keep your hoodie even though you wanted it back.) you’ve taken everything and left. and with you, you’ve taken my words. i’ve been trying to write this poem for 64 days, and now after all that time it’s not even going to be a poem. it’s going to be a stupid letter that is so deranged that some shithead fine artist could probably pass it as a postmodern poetic masterpiece and sell it as an nft. you’ve done it! for once something has rendered me such a mess that i can’t even format it into neat rows to make sense of. and i’ve tried to kill myself! twice! that’s really saying something! congrats.

incredible, how even after we - us - (what beautiful words!) - are finished, i’m still writing you letters all the time. i know you never read that last one i sent. about the fish that wrote a whole album. it’s okay. i just wish you had told me to stop. now you have all my words in a pile or a folder shoved somewhere under your bed and i can’t have them back. my words, my words, my words.

i dreamt that you came back to my flat for more of your things. you were here for hours, taking and taking and taking. you kept leaving and coming back. eventually you started taking the floorboards, and great chunks of the walls, until everything was just pipes. everything was just pipes. i was just balancing on pipes, and you were never really leaving, but never really staying either.

i only ever wake up crying when it’s the nice dreams. (insert footage of me battering thom yorke’s face in.) it’s the ones where my brain is still convinced that you’re a part of me. always just kind of there, as a fellow spectator of whatever dr suess gta shit i’m dreaming. not even a separate entity to me. i didn’t ever know that an empty space besides me could feel so cold. if i paid more attention in gcse physics i could probably put some really witty comparison to whatever fucking outer space phenomenon there is in here. instead i’ll say: my bed is too big. it goes on forever. i’m so terrified of sleeping that i’ve just sort of stopped doing it. i heart 8am! very cool.

you wanna know something? the day you left me, it felt like you left with me. like you took me with you and now i’m just some like, dry shedded snake skin that’s gonna disintegrate with the next breeze. i remember as you were leaving, it was raining horribly. we both said “pathetic fallacy” at the exact same time, and then did this awkward kind of laugh-sob also at the same time, and then we were very silent after that. once you’d left, i cried until i almost threw up and then i called mum and asked her to pick me up.

the next day, i swear to god it was the most beautiful day i had seen in months. possibly ever. i don’t even know what kind of symbolism that is to be honest. i’m not clever enough. or maybe i’m still too much in denial. i guess those are the same thing. or maybe just what it means to be human? (hm? so just… never clever enough then???) mum and i threw the petals i’d saved from all the flowers you bought me into the ocean, and they blew straight back and a dog came sniffing at them and it was way less cool than our movie moment the afternoon before. who cares. it all gets to be part of one big metaphor that even i don’t understand in my own non-poem.

do you think any of my future employers have a way of finding this? sometimes i worry. please hire me, i’m only 21 and still very, very stupid. i’m sure i’ll be less stupid by the time you’re reading this. maybe not. but less deranged? probably! (grins at you) (with teeth)

look, what i’m trying to say is that today was really hard. i think a lot of the time i forget that this decision you made for us is a forever decision, and that you’re not ever coming back. we might not even get to be friends again. the thought of that makes me panic. i’m trying to hold the progress i’ve made close, but it’s hard. it’s really hard. today was really fucking hard without you, big bear. i miss you so much. all the fucking time. when we were so, so happy and in love at the beginning, you got annoyed that we kept falling into saying clichéd things because there really was no other way to say such big things. i’m realising now it’s the same with this big huge massive pain. i feel lost without you. how else can i frame that? no matter how much i decorate it, that’s all there is. i miss you. and i’m lost. that’s all. that’s all.

yours no longer,

little bear

[sirowsky]

A Little Menace 4

I have two ongoing fics that are being wholly ignored because of this adorably cute little story, that simply will not leave me be, so I'm just gonna keep going until this is done, kay? More steam, and more evil mommy backstory here.

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: ornithophobia (fear of birds), cursing, yearning, some light smut, FUBAR-mom, modern!din, din djarin x female reader, no use of y/n, no description of reader. Human boy Grogu. Word Count: 2120 Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 1 Link to Part 2 Link to Part 3 Link to Part 5

–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–

   An insistent noise pulls you up from deep sleep and you confusedly fumble around under the duvet, until you’ve woken up enough to orient which part of your body is where and manage to pick up your phone from the nightstand.    But it’s not your alarm that’s making all that racket. It's someone at your door.

   “What the fuck…?” you grumble, looking at the clock and date on the device.

   It’s not even 8am on a Saturday, and you fell asleep late since it took two releases for your body to remember that it was tired enough to need sleep, after that impromptu make-out session last night had left you wired.    But the knocking isn’t going away, so you drag yourself out of bed and pull on your deep blue satin robe, not even bothering to check yourself in the mirror before you push the door open. Because your intention is to merely scream at whoever the hell is out there, to go foraging for some god damned manners.

   But all words die on your tongue as you’re met by an enthusiastic 6-year-old, throwing himself around your waist with the biggest grin on his face.    And behind him, the apologetic eyes of his father, trying and failing to conceal how his gaze rakes over your undressed form, from your bare legs to the lack of underwear, made embarrassingly obvious by the sudden perkiness of your nipples.

   “Uh, sorry. He’s been up since 6am nagging about coming over here, and… well, it wasn’t as though I was opposed to the idea to begin with.” he explains, looking a little sheepish while still trying not to stare at your curves.

   “I see. Well, I’m up now so you might as well come in.” you croak, trying to wake your throat up. “But I need coffee before playtime. Lots of it…”

   Grogu lets go of you and runs into the apartment, surprising you by not heading straight for the LEGO, and instead going to the balcony to look at the little birds that are already working hard.    Din follows you inside as you keep an eye on the boy, but decide not to disturb him, when he’s taking such a positive initiative by himself.    You don’t hear the door close behind you, nor sense the broad expanse of his chest as Din sneaks up behind you and steals a kiss of your neck, sending shivers from the base of your skull down to your toes.

   “I missed you.” he whispers, but keeps his hands off you, which is good because otherwise you don’t know how you’ll react.

   “I fell asleep thinking about you.” you confess, desperately wanting to lean back into him, but knowing it won’t end well.

   He doesn’t have your restraint it seems, though. Because suddenly his hands are on your hips, searing hot through the thin fabric, pulling you back until you’re flush against him and softly dragging the tip of his nose along the bottom of your ear.    Even though he doesn’t make a sound, you can tell that he’s struggling, and it makes you wonder if perhaps he hasn’t really been with anyone since Grogu’s mother. Although you have no idea how long that might be.

   “Sorry. Is that too much for you to know?” you ask, genuinely trying to figure out where the line between casually flirty and too obviously craving, is.

   He sucks in a jagged breath and when he speaks next, his voice is rough and hot against your neck, and his hands grip you just a little firmer, as if he’s trying to keep them from wandering.

   “If what I’ve seen and felt from you is accurate, then you did more than just think about me. And considering how badly I want you… yes, that might be a little too much.”

   You gulp. That’s all you can do, because fuck, fuck, FUCK!!    Mercifully, the kid demands your attention then, calling for you to come and tell him about a bird he doesn’t recognize, and you pry yourself out of Din’s hands and go to help him, trying to ignore the slick that’s threatening to start dripping down your bare thighs.

   “What’cha got, birdman?” you say, feeling yourself fall into the teacher-role you’ve adapted to using whenever he’s there, and for a moment you wonder just when that happened. Because you’ve never been much for teaching.

   He points to a small and pale bird, light brown along its sides and white towards the head, but with a batman-like black face-paint, and you gasp in surprise.

   “That’s a Eurasian penduline tit. It’s extremely rare here, I’ve never seen one in real life before!” you almost squeal, while simultaneously trying to keep still and get a good look at it before it leaves.

   He either understands the significance, or just mirrors you, because the boy stands perfectly still as you both watch the little creature eat his fill and then fly off.

   “Thank you, Grogu.” you say, turning to look at him. “If you hadn’t come over today, I might never have seen that.”

   He smiles at you, before pointing to the doorhandle, silently asking you to open it, so you do, and he walks out onto the balcony and sits down in one of your garden-chairs even though you don’t join him.

   “Hey. You gonna be okay out here on your own? Cause I need some breakfast before I can join you.” you ask, but he just nods and keeps watching. “Okay, but if you get scared, let me know or come and get me.”

   He nods again, looking perfectly at ease, although he’s far enough from the walls not to see the bigger birds on the ground, so he might still get startled if one of them flies by too close to the windows.    You head back towards the kitchen, from where you can see the balcony and the feeder, as well as the ground around it, which is empty at the moment.    The kitchen isn’t, though.

   Din already has your coffee brewing and is rummaging through your cabinets for mugs when you walk in. He looks unsure at first, but when you smile at seeing him making himself at home, he relaxes and hands you one of the mugs.

   “Grogu’s progress is amazing. I can’t believe it was just three days ago that he barely even dared to step out on the balcony.” you prattle on while picking things out of the fridge and pantry to make toast. “And now he’s already sitting out there alone and quite comfortably.”

   “It’s all thanks to you.” Din proclaims softly, pouring the finished brew into your mugs and taking a seat at the table. “And I don’t just mean your willingness to work with him rather than reprimand him. He’s really taken to you.”

   “This is gonna sound a little weird, but I feel like he’s such an easy kid to like.” you start, and see his eyebrows climb in surprise.

   “That’s not what most people think.” His voice holds traces of sadness, probably from failed attempts to help his son make friends before, and it stings your heart.

   “Not that I’ve spent loads of time with kids before, but that’s largely because I’ve found most kids to be kinda obnoxious.    Like, my cousin’s two girls. They’re little monsters, for lack of a better description. Seriously.    But Grogu… he’s so easy to read, perhaps even more so because he doesn’t talk that much. I feel like I understand everything that he’s thinking. I don’t know, maybe we’re somehow kindred spirits.” you finish with a smile and a little shrug, taking your seat as you’re done preparing your toast.

   Din sits quietly for a while, sipping his coffee and alternating between peering outside at his son, and stealing glances at you, reminding you that you still haven’t gotten dressed.    But his mood is different now. He’s calm and still a bit sad, and you’re hoping that he’s gonna feel comfortable enough to maybe share some things with you about his life, so you don’t attempt to start up conversation again.    Had you known what he was about to tell you, you might’ve tried to lighten the mood first.

   “His mother… Kathryn… we were co-workers back when I was working as a contractor at her dad’s construction company. She’s a designer and to some extent she was my superior, although not on paper.” he suddenly starts, and you find yourself hanging on his every word but afraid to ask questions or speak at all, in case it makes him close up again.

   “We always had this kinda rough relationship. Not enemies, but absolutely not friends either. I don’t think she understands the concept, to be honest.    But somehow, we worked really well together, perhaps because we were always second-guessing each other and double checking everything the other one did, looking for faults or flaws to tease each other about.”

   He’s trying to keep his tone light, you can tell, but there’s too much pain and darkness associated with the memories, that he doesn’t come close to succeeding, and you start to feel like this story might be worse than anything you’ve ever heard.    Your breakfast is forgotten as you sit frozen, absorbing every detail of the man before you.

   “One night, while working on a big project away from home, we ended up drinking too much and sharing a bed at the hotel where we were staying.    It wasn’t a pleasurable thing, exactly. More like, just another way of getting at each other’s throats. But it had consequences. And the only reason she didn’t abort, was because her father is deeply religious and would’ve killed her if she had.    Curiously though, he had no qualms about her treating him like a plague from the moment he was born.”

   His voice breaks at that, and he dips his head into his hand, so he doesn’t notice the tears that are spilling down your cheeks.    Your eyes are drawn to the sweet little boy on your balcony, as pain rips through you at the thought that anyone, much less a mother, could treat a child like that.

   “It was clear from the start that she wasn’t interested in building a life together, so we never even tried. She had him at her house, and I’d visit every day, and that was the only time he received any love or real attention.    So, after just five months, I told her that I was gonna take him and she never even tried to have a conversation about it. She just gave me his things and all but shoved me out the door.” he says, and there’s a hint of irritation in his voice now.

   “But she never bothered to sign away her maternal rights to him, so she still gets contacted about insurances and school-related things, and every time that happens, she calls me and acts like it’s my fault and that I have to make sure it stops happening and it just…” he sighs, and it sounds so unbearably heavy, “…it just hurts.”

   He’s crying now too, and it’s too much.    He’s sitting with one elbow resting on the table, his head still leaned against his open palm, and the rest of him angled alongside it, rather than having his legs underneath it.    So, you get up from your seat and move to stand between his legs, wrapping your arms around his head and pulling him into your abdomen.

   Without pause or hesitation, he accepts your embrace and instantly asks for more, putting his hands on your back and pulling you down into his lap so he can really hold you.    That puts his head in line with your breasts, and he shamelessly nestles his face into the soft skin of your bosom, that’s accessible through the slit of your robe.

   But he’s not looking for passion this time, just comfort, and if he finds that with you, then you’ll happily let him have it for as long as it takes for the sadness to fade away.    Because it sounds like he’s been dealing with this more or less all alone for almost six years, and you want him to know that it doesn’t have to be that way anymore. That you want to be there for him, whether he needs to talk or cry or just sit quietly in the company of another grownup.

   You hope that he feels it in the warmth of your touch, the secure firmness of your arms around him, the carefully whispered promise that spills from your lips.

   “It’s okay to hurt with me. I won’t run away or kick you out. You’re safe here, Din.”

–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–

Thank you for reading, and feel free to criticize, I’m always looking to learn and grow as a writer.

@deadhumourist @idreamofboobear @tanzthompson @winter-fox-queen @tiffanyleen @shsoba05 @toomanystoriessolittletime @nolanell @myfavpedrothings @harriedandharassed @bruxasolta @tintinn16 @pedrostories @littlemisspascal @sj-draws00 @gallowsjoker @spishsstuff @little-mrs-morales @bilibiche

[creativeashproductions]

Proceed With Caution // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: The reader doesn’t expect to become involved in a hostage situation with her fiance’s older sister, the older sister’s best friend and the best friend’s date from hell. With the addition of a SWAT member, how will the taking of dispatch change?

Warnings: Swearing, blood, threats, angst, guns, hostage/kidnapping

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Recently got into the tv show 9-1-1 and completely fell in love with Buck so here I am writing for him as well. This takes place during the season three episode ‘The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1’. Reader and Buck are already in an established relationship.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The apartment was quiet as the sound of your keys clattered in the bowl on the countertop. It was pretty early in the morning, so you had no doubts that Buck would be just waking up. On his days off, he would use the first day to catch up on sleep; based on prior times, he would be up in half an hour.

“Buck?” You called out from the kitchen. You heard a groan from the loft where Buck was in the process of waking up, “I forgot to drop off that book Maddie wants to borrow. When I get back, do you want to get breakfast?”

A grumble you somehow translated to approval was what you received in response. You jogged up the stairs to the loft to grab the book from your bookshelf. Buck’s bare leg stretched out from underneath the comforter on your side. The soft sighs Buck made in his sleepy state tugged at your heart; the sighs grew louder when you bent to kiss his head.

“See you in a bit.” You whispered to the sleepy soft male. He sleepily grinned in response before curling into your pillow.

The sound of your footsteps softened on the steps back to the main level of the apartment. Your keys snagged from the bowl before you gently closed the door behind you. The sun was gorgeous to be awake to see and had Buck not worked a long shift, you’d have adored watching it with him.

Your car pulled out of the parking spot in the Los Angeles Service Center’s direction that Maddie worked at. Your lips quirked as the radio spewed out the station that Christopher listened to in the car. You could even pick up the book in the backseat where he called his spot. The book could be found in Buck’s Jeep as well.

It had maybe three days since you’d seen the young Diaz, and damn did you miss the kid. Christopher has his enigmatic quality that demanded you love him for all that made him simply Christopher. The second you’d met him, you knew he would mean a lot to you.

You hummed in time with the song that was currently Christopher’s absolute favourite. Slowly you went from humming to singing along when the light turned green. A handful of songs came and went on the admittedly long drive due to traffic.

It was about forty minutes after leaving your apartment that you parked next to Maddie’s car in the parking lot. Lucy was sitting at the front office with a grin you matched. The woman buzzed you before she clocked out with her reprieve Jake.

“Hey, Sue!” You grinned at the older redhead. Sue had absolutely no problem seeing you, given that you were welcome in the building.

Sue’s first interaction was when you came to the centre to pick up Maddie when she came to work sick. Maddie had managed to keep it under wraps for an hour before Sue caught on. Ever since, Sue was fond of asking Maddie about her brother and you.

“Maddie’s not in just yet.” Sue spoke with a kind smile, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to meet with one of our sit alongs.”

You nodded towards her while beelining for the woman’s bathroom, hoping to catch Maddie after using it. You’d drank too much water on your run earlier this morning. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate in the time you’d entered the bathroom, several things happened. Lucy ended her shift, Jake started his shift, and a group of strangers entered the building.

Your hand went to push open the door when through the crack, you saw two men you’d never seen before. Years of your job gave you enough feeling to know that something wasn’t right. That being said, you eased the door closed and attempted to find a hiding spot.

The garbage was too narrow and had no lid. The few seconds you had left, you glanced up. The ceiling hadn’t been renovated in many years. Rectangular sheets could be raised. Thankful of the rock climbing lessons you’d done with Maddie, you managed to crawl into the ceiling just as the two men entered.

“Nobody’s here.” The one-man with his head as pale and shiny as a cue ball. He gave off the most creepy vibe; the shorter Hispanic man wasn’t as violent looking, “Kinda hoping someone tries something. I’ve wanted to try out this.”

The man waved the large gun in his hand with a sick smile that twisted your stomach. That was the moment you’d realized something was very wrong. The second they left, you gently dropped back on the ground. Your first instinct was to send a message to Athena, but there was a fatal flaw. You’d expected to be in and out of the building quickly, so you’d left your phone in the car.

“Fuck.” You swore. One hand roughly running over your forehead as you contemplated figuring out a plan.

The building had many cameras throughout that you knew the blindspots for. The year after high school and during the summers, you’d worked in the building. Despite having worked here when you were younger, it was never during Sue’s shift. Over the years, you’d come to know the blind spots and a few cameras that were decoys. You even remembered Maddie and her friend Josh complaining about three cameras not fixed yet.

“Think.” You breathed, making a pattern of pacing, “They’ll need a lookout. They’ll take out the security guard first. The front doors are out. It’s a team, so they’ll also need eyes on the building. Terry is definitely a hostage.”

Of course, you’d end up in a volatile situation during the first half of your day before your shift started. The only comforting thing about the situation was the holstered gun on your hip and the badge on your belt. Maybe you should backtrack to why you had a gun and badge; you were an LAPD member, specifically SWAT.

“The changeroom.” You breathed, recalling it was down the hall with no camera. All you needed to do was pretend to be a dispatcher. The changeroom, now mostly a file room, had a few extra maroon and blue uniform shirts.

You timed it. The man holding Sue’s tablet was in the process of talking with his cohort, so you dashed to the room. You took no time in changing into a loose maroon shirt with your thick sweater overtop to hide the gun in the small of your back.

Your holster, badge and personal shirt tucked in the bottom of a box for safekeeping. As soon as you saw your entry, you sat with the group of hostages a hall over. A few looked surprised but let it go when you raised one finger to your lips.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Maddie hissed from the other side of a startled Josh. Both of them were surprised at seeing you here, “Oh my god. Buck is going to kill me.”

“I was dropping off your book before I get breakfast with Buck, but it appears my small bladder saved my life.” You snarked with your eyes scanning the room, “What’s going on?”

“That is my date from hell, Greg.” Josh inconspicuously pointed towards the man, clearly giving orders. The anger flared inside you, “You need to get out.”

“Josh, no offence, but I’m an officer with the LAPD. I work with SWAT. I’m your best bet of making it out alive.” You informed the dispatch duo, who went still as Cue Ball patrolled the hallway with a sadistic glint in his eyes.

“They took control of the building for a reason we don’t know about. We’re still working but under strict monitoring. They said it will be an hour, but we’ve seen their faces.”

“No witnesses.” You finished for Maddie with a deep sigh, “Unfortunately I left my phone in the car. Did they take yours-”

“They took Linda’s EpiPen. Of course, we don’t have phones.” Maddie sighed, leaning back to rest her head against the wall. Not even having a SWAT member by her side was comforting; your badge put a more significant target on you.

“We have to warn someone.” Josh mumbled to both Maddie and you, “You’re on shift Y/N?”

“Not for a few hours. I was supposed to drop off the book and get breakfast with Buck before my shift. This was supposed to be five minutes tops, so I left my phone in my car.”

“I already did.” Maddie spoke with a sad look on her face that overtook the fear, “I just hope he gets the message.”

Your hand reached out to squeeze the woman you’d had a hand in raising Buck more than their parents. Maddie had become family when you first started dating Buck. The in-law part of her familial relationship to you never crossed your minds; you were simply sisters to each other.

“Who?”

“Chim. I told him I loved him.” Maddie finished with a teary gaze. It made you sick seeing that look again after Doug.

You remembered seeing that haunted look when she stumbled out of the thicker woods covered in blood. You’d stayed by Athena’s side when Buck clutched her so tight and sobbed with her. It had been before you’d become serious with the man, but it was that frightening day that Buck fell for you. You’d just finished a taxing shift with your team when you heard about Maddie was missing, and Chim was in the hospital. You’d ignored the exhaustion to search high and low through your work contacts before narrowing the search area.

“Good thing Chimney obsesses over the little things.” You spoke, slouching down against the wall, “We’ll get throu-”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Maddie warned you with her brows furrowed together, and you saw what she was doing. Despite your years of experience and the gun you had, she pushed her fear down behind the concern that a big sister shows her young siblings.

“I won’t.”

At 8am, Buck was just entering the apartment building from grabbing the mail addressed to both you and him when Chim had called.

“Yup, go for Buck.” Buck spoke, opening the door to the apartment he’d only temporarily left. His morning had been late after his long shift the night before. The most productive thing was dressing for his breakfast date with you and grabbing the mail.

“How come 9-1-1 doesn’t respond when I call?” Chimney questioned the younger, now confused male.

“Uh, is that some kind of riddle? Like who watches the watchmen?” Buck asked, closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned around for any indication you’d returned home, but the bowl was vacant of your keys.

“Neither of those things are riddles. Okay, I just tried calling 9-1-1, and I got the high call volume message. Did I miss an earthquake or something?”

“Nope, pretty chill morning.” Buck responded as he closed the fridge door with a bottle of water in hand. The entire conversation wasn’t concerning to him, given that Chimney was often like this.

“Where’s Y/N? She’s the police she’ll know-”

“She’s not home right now. Wait, why are you calling 9-1-1? Is everything okay?” Buck slowly asked with his brows coming together. The sigh of frustration from Chimney was answer enough.

“Your sister said that she loved me.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t that uh, the whole point in that big date you had last night?” Buck inquired on his way to the table. He had a feeling this was going to be a long conversation that would hopefully pass the time until you got home.

“You declare your love, and she declares hers? That’s how it went with Y/N and me.”

“Yeah, I know, okay, but she didn’t, all right? At least not last night. Look, she made this big deal saying that she couldn’t say those words, and then this morning, she blurts them out and hangs up on me.” Chimney speaks, pacing in his own apartment. The side by the side of Chimney and Buck’s separate apartments told different tales of their states.

“It’s still not quite sounding like an emergency.”

“’Cause I sound insane.” Chimney spoke, staring up at the ceiling with a battle in his mind. He wants Buck to talk him out of this, but he also wants Buck to agree with him, “She’s at the call centre. What could happen there? You know what, forget it, I’ll try Y/N again.”

“Again?” Buck questioned just as his co-worker ended the call. Buck tugged his phone away from his ear to stare at it confused.

You always answered the phone if you weren’t working at the moment, but given you still had hours, he found it unsettling. After seeing the news report with the ladder truck on top of him, calls weren’t ignored between you two. That feeling of concern grew when you didn’t answer his call either. Nor the second one.

“Nah, she’s probably talking with Maddie.” Buck spoke, but that second-guessing feeling didn’t dissipate. 

In the call centre, you’d been marched to one of the stations with a deep hope that you’d remember everything. It had been years by then since you’d worked as a dispatcher. It didn’t help with the gunmen patrolling the room.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” You calmly questioned the caller.

“Hi, my cat is up the tree by my house. Could you send someone?”

“Can I get your name?” You went through the motions of getting her name and address before you informed the woman, “Okay, the LAFD and LAPD no longer respond to calls of cats in trees. The cat will make its way down on its own. If the tree is in your backyard, I’d use the time to garden or read a book on this beautiful day.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem. Having a wonderful day Susan.”

In no time at all, you’d been rotated into the board room away from Josh and Maddie. It gave you time to inspect everyone you hadn’t made contact with yet. No one appeared harmed other than in distress with the situation.

“Downtown. They don’t want anyone downtown.” Linda whispered as Maddie was guided onto the floor by the elbow. You’d only gathered her name from her near-silent introduction to you when the hired guns had been far from your area.

“Let’s go.” Greg snapped, roughly pushing you towards the conference room. Something deep in your gut already predicted that someone was going to be stupid.

It was your sharp eyesight catching the minuscule agitation in Greg’s interactions with the Cue Ball guy. The slight tightening of his grip on the gun, the tension in the room growing stifling. And everyone knows that when emotions run high stupid things happen.

“Why do they keep moving us around like this?” The man beside Maddie questioned. He was definitely the most shaken of the group. He was basically shaking like a chihuahua.

“To disorient us.” Maddie spoke, staring at the group monitoring the dispatchers currently in play. Her eyes refused to leave them.

“So, we can’t make a plan.” You finished for your sister-in-law. Objectively out of everyone, Maddie, Sue and you were the most collected individuals for various reasons.

Maddie had lived in a volatile house with a man that could be unpredictable if a situation called for it in his mind. Sue had been working in the centre for years to navigate the emergency while you walked into dangerous situations.

“Jamal.” The shaking man spoke, holding his hand out towards you, “Are you new?”

“No.” You spoke as you shook his hand, “I’m Y/N. Maddie’s sister-in-law. I’m filling in as a favour for Sue.”

The lie slipped off your lips a little too quickly. You decided to come to this hostage situation as if you were undercover. It meant having to ignore that Maddie was in the situation with you.  

“Worst day for a favour.” Jamal snorted with his eyes pinned on one of the armed men holding all your lives in their hands. You’d have spoken, but Jamal checked out mentally from the conversation waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The shoe dropped when the IT Specialist announced numbly, “Jake’s dead. They shot him.”

It didn’t matter how long you’d been working for the LAPD, any death, whether it was a civilian or a criminal, it was still was startling. Jake, the security guard that alternated shifts with Lucy, wasn’t someone you spoke with. He was on shift when you weren’t here or just missed the shift change.

“We need to get a message out.” Jamal spoke, glancing at the only people in the right state of mind, and those were Maddie, Josh and you. Terry had seen the violence these men had no issues with.

“I did.” Josh breathed, thinking of the arguably cute security guard he sometimes liked to stare at, “A woman called about onions in an omelette. I dispatched an officer.”

“To the restaurant?” Maddie inquired with her pinkie connected with yours for comfort. Both of you would prefer your SO’s hand instead.

“Not exactly.” Josh replied, staring at his best friend with a glimpse of hope in his brown eyes.

Hope may be the only way you could get out of this without hurting anyone in your admittedly surface level plan.

“Buck will think something is up.” You added 

Buck had begun pacing the kitchen of the apartment with Chim adamantly telling his friend his plan to go to the centre. Buck had joined Chimney in the concerned department when you had failed to return to the apartment, return calls and to make matters worse, so was Maddie. His texts had gone unanswered as well, not even having the read receipt on.

“She’s not picking up either. I tried Y/N and Josh, but neither replied. When I tried Maddie and Josh, it went straight to voicemail.”

“Now, I’m definitely going.” Chimney announced, shoving his wallet into his pocket just as someone began knocking on his door.

“What if something is wrong? I know Y/N is a member of SWAT but radio silence? No text to let me know she was called in early?” Buck thought aloud with his finger dragging along his thigh, “Maybe we should call the police.”

“I...think someone already did.” Chimney informed Buck as he stared at the sudden appearance of Sergeant Athena Grant at his door.

“What? What do you mean?” Buck hastily questioned, leaning against the kitchen island. He could just faintly hear Athena speaking on Chimney’s end of the phone, “Chimney? What’s going on?”

“Athena was sent to my apartment. Hang on, Buck, I’m just gonna tell Athena what’s going on.”

Buck stepped away from the island to settle on the stairs to the loft, impatiently waiting for Chimney to finish speaking. That fear of losing pieces of his life expanded deep in his gut, just like the times Maddie left in his childhood. That fear of being left behind.

“What’s she’s saying now?”

“She’s making her case.” Chim whispered as he continued to eavesdrop on Athena’s call with her higher-ups, “Now she’s folding like a cheap suit.”

“All right, let me talk to Athena.” Buck demanded antsy to figure out the situation that clearly had something wrong. That fear he’d thought of early flared catching the tail end of Athena’s conversation, “No! No, no. We can’t just send in SWAT. If there is someone inside the call centre doing something, they’ll know we’re onto them.”

Unfortunately, Buck was correct in this thought process, all thanks to living with a SWAT member. He knew these things after the years he’d been with you.

“Maddie? I think I can sneak up to Terry’s computer. Maybe get eyes on the place-”

“No!” Terry nearly shouted, stiffening when Cue Ball hesitated in the doorway at his sudden shouts. You all held your breath for his reaction, but thankfully he was called away by one of the men, “They have-”

“Terry, I need you to calm down. I’m familiar with these types of situations. I’m SWAT. I need to get on top of this. Don’t be a hero.”

Maddie’s head began to shake when your arm was roughly grabbed by Greg, “Your turn.”

You were separated from Josh and Maddie, but instead of being pushed into one of the dispatcher seats, you were pulled to the original hallway.

“I don’t like how friendly you are with them.” Greg spat, shoving you to rest against the wall, “Don’t move.” 

You catch the eyes of Maddie with an apologetic expression before you used the pacing routine to sneak away. You didn’t release your breath until you were attaching your holder to your hip in the change room. By now, your team would be aware that something was wrong, Hondo would be hell-bent on finding you.

Until you had help, you were on your own.

You used each blindspot of the cameras in the halls to the stairwell, and you used a broom to adjust the cameras. The cameras not kept you from view but not appearing suspicious. Once at the floor where Terry was practically always at you softly closed the door. 

You’d only started to sit down when you heard the ding of the elevator, “Shit.”

You slipped into the closest containing extra parts if anything broke. Through the crack, you saw Terry being held at gunpoint. The gunman that had been holding the tablet on the floor, Ellis as you’d heard.

“You’re telling me every cop in the city has just disappeared?” Ellis demanded as Terry, and he disappeared around one of the corners. The tapping of a screen indicating Ellis was searching for something with Terry’s involuntary help.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know!” Terry snapped back, creating even more tension in the room, but Ellis didn’t move to grab his gun.

Ellis appeared to the only one reluctant to discharge your weapon, unlike Cue Ball, who just happened to join the party.

“Figure it out!” Ellis spat, turning on his heel at the sound of approaching footsteps. You could see him roll his eyes at his team member walking into the room.

“What’s going on here?” Cue ball questioned the duo in different kinds of distress, and you swore Cue Ball enjoyed the intimidation from his teammate and the IT specialist.

“That police car’s not the only one that’s gone dark.” Ellis nervously spoke, stiffening for the volatile reaction that one could expect from Foster.

“You think they know we’re here?” 

“Foster, it could be a system glitch.” Ellis offered keeping one eye on Cue Ball while monitoring Terry’s work as well.

Cue Ball spoke a sentence that sent chills up your spine, “Time to cut our losses.”

As Foster and Ellis began going over their personal plans made out of Greg’s knowledge, you noticed Terry glance over. His eyes widened slightly before quickly looking away when you raised a finger across your lips.

“We can go down the back stairs. I have a car waiting around the corner, we split the art up between the five of us, and we go our separate ways.” Foster spoke, revealing his plan to double-cross Greg, which in all honesty made sense. Greg was ill-fitting to be in charge of their operation, unable to control his lackeys.

“I like that part of the deal.” Ellis breathed, skirting around the trigger happy criminal only to halt in his steps, “Wait, you’ve got a car parked down the street? You were always gonna double-cross Greg.”

“You weren’t?”

“If we’re gonna do this, you can’t just sell famous works of art on eBay.”

“You can’t sell them from prison either.”

At that moment, something almost shifted in the area, something that made you pull your gun from your holster. Your body telling you something was about to happen. It happened in a split second. Foster fled the room leaving only Ellis just outside. With Terry frantically shaking his head, you tiptoed to the unsuspecting criminal.

“LAPD!” You shouted, pointing your gun towards the shocked man, “Put the gun down and put your hands up.”

“Aren’t you a dispatcher?” Ellis questioned, blinking in surprise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be intelligent? Next time check the schedule I haven’t worked here in years.” You spat, keeping your gun pointed on him, “Do I say-”

The sound of two guns going off made Terry flinch and scream as he instinctively dropped to the ground. IT was supposed to be safe, but Terry had now heard three gunshots in under two hours. He really didn’t want to see the outcome of the shots.

A moan coaxed Terry to peek out through the privacy glass. Ellis was on the ground while you kept your gun on him. He didn’t see anything else when the power went out. He didn’t see you drop to your knees, but he heard you.

“Terry...get down. Lay on your stomach with your hands insight, and don’t move.” You informed the terrified IT just as the floor was swarmed.

“Put the gun down!” The sound of Tan’s voice was welcoming as you slowly placed the gun on the ground. “25-David I have Y/L/N. The suspect is down, need medical.”

You got back to your feet when Tan nodded his head, “Thank god. There’s a possible body in the IT room along with the It Specialist Terry.”

“You got your badge on you?” Tan questioned as he cuffed the moaning Ellis up, “Street can you escort her down?”

Street nodded from his position, watching Tan’s back before guiding you to the stairs with hawk eyes. Even off duty, you kept your head on a swivel.

“You caused quite the commotion.” Street spoke halfway down the stairs when you barely mumbled. He caught you as you went down like a sack of potatoes, “Y/N!”

“Adrenaline is crashing.” You moaned, looking at your shoulder where the maroon had grown darker, “I think he shot me.”

“26-David I’m in the stairway. Prepare a medic.” Street spoke into his radio before he strapped the gun away and swept you into his arms, “Think you can have my back?”

“When don’t I?” You wheezed, with the sweat starting to bead on your forehead. As you crashed from adrenaline, you barely noticed being placed on the ground at the main entrance.

A paramedic cutting your borrowed shirt to reveal the bullet hole in your shoulder courtesy of Ellis, the only member who’d thought wouldn’t shoot his gun. You could vaguely hear Maddie calling out your name as you were loaded onto a gurney.

“M-Maddie?” You spoke, tilting your head to see Chris holding Maddie back from, “Chris! That’s my sister in law.”

Chris only let Maddie go when Hondo gave the all-clear, and you were so thankful when Maddie’s hand encased yours.

“Don’t close your eyes.” Maddie pleaded sick with the amount of blood on your skin and soaking through the gauze, “Who’s gonna help me put up with my little brother?”

“Buck.” You breathed sluggishly, blinking as the artificial lights changed to natural with the gun shining through the glass front doors.

“You didn’t let me close mine in that ambulance, so I need you to do the same. Don’t close them. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” Maddie cried as an officer pulled her aside as you were stopped. You wouldn’t remember it, but Maddie had to watch as you coded right in front of her.

Maddie had to watch them perform CPR on you and fight for a pulse. She had to think of how’d she’d tell her little brother she’d killed his fiance. The counting of the paramedics sounded as if underwater, and as they did, the world went quiet. Her mind checked out as the trauma settled in.

Maddie stumbled out of the building into a zoo of officers, medics, and news reporters almost robotically. She barely felt Chimney hug her, but she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.

“It’s all my fault.” Maddie gasped, collapsing against him, “If I had-”

“Maddie?”

Chimney felt Maddie stiffen at the sound of Buck’s voice amidst the multiple voices milling around. Maddie raised her gaze to meet Buck’s blue eyes dripping in relief and question.

“Buck.”

“Maddie, where’s Y/N? Her car…” Buck trailed off, catching the utter heartbreak in his big sister’s eyes. A look he’d come to know in his line of work as a firefighter. The utter devastation that came with watching someone you love die, “No. No.”

“I got a pulse!” Came from the nearest ambulance, and Buck skirted around his sister and Chimney, “Ready to transport!” 

Your eyes slowly blinked at the white ceiling of the ambulance with pain in your midsection courtesy of chest compressions. Breathing came painful, and the bullet wound throbbed, but it all faded when you saw blue eyes above you.

“Buck.” You sobbed, more like groaned, as he was urged to sit on the bench holding your hand, “Maddie?”

“She’s okay. Chim’s got her. Can you keep your eyes on me? I need to see those big beautiful e/c eyes.” Buck soothed, bringing your hand to his lips, “Did I ever tell you my favourite colour?”

Despite Buck’s best attempts, you continued fading in and out of consciousness but continued to be stable. He spoke about the funny video Eddie had shown him of Christopher at the end of their shift last night. He talked about everything and anything under the sun during the short ride to the hospital.

The last thing you saw was Buck being held back as the paramedics pushed the gurney into the ER. Everything turned black.

The beeping was the first thing you heard before your eyes fluttered open to a stark white room and that unmistakable hospital scent. You noticed the second thing as Buck holding your hand in both of his with his forehead pressed against them.

“Buck?” You moaned to the one person you had wished to see. The man whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, “What’s wrong?”

“Your heart stopped beating twice. I thought I was gonna lose you.” Buck cried with his lips pressed against your hand, “I was so worried.”

“Hey. I’m fine. I’m here.” You cooed, tugging one hand away to run through his messy hair with a soft smile. His blue eyes brighten at the familiar feeling of your digits in his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. This isn’t here for decoration.”

His eyes found the ring he’d gently placed back on your finger from when the nurses had removed it. It only left your finger when you were on duty, in which it was slung on a necklace hidden under your uniform.

“Better not be.”

“Does the hospital have a chapel?” You questioned out of the blue leading to Buck snorting as you giggled, “I’m serious. When I was bleeding in that building, all I could think about was you. If Maddie is anything like you, she’s waiting in the waiting room with Chimney.”

“You aren’t wrong. All the chairs are taken. Our family was waiting for you to wake up.” Buck breathed, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “Are you sure?”

“About marrying you?” You softly questioned the man who couldn’t help but believe this was a dream. How he’d somehow got the girl of his dreams to agree to marry his ass, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. All I want to share is your last name for the rest of my life. You are it for me, Evan Buckley. All the flaws you see are beautiful to me.”

“Only you would want to get married after being shot mere hours ago.” Buck chuckled with a sigh pulled from his pink lips, “I’ll get the doctor for you and find out if we can be married here.”

While you were checked out, Buck left the room to go back to the waiting room where the 118 and your co-workers waited. Everyone perked up at his appearance, Christopher asleep on Eddie’s lap.

“Is she okay?” Bobby questioned as the tension in the room grew more and more. It shattered into relief when Buck grinned.

“She’s sore as expected. She’s gonna catch some sleep, but she’d like to see Maddie.” Buck replied, pinning his gaze on his big sister with her curled into Chimney’s body. Her cheeks flooded with tears of absolute relief, “C’mon.”

The waiting room started emptying with Buck’s promise to keep everyone updated, but before Bobby could step away, Buck asked for him.

“Do you need a few days off?” Bobby questioned just as Buck came closer to the seasoned firefighter.

“No. But could you spare an hour?” The expression on Buck’s face was enough for Bobby not to ask any further questions. He simply followed Buck back towards your hospital room, where Maddie and Chim waited.

“What’s going on?” Bobby inquired, with the addition of the hospital assigned Priest holding the standard bible. Chimney could only shrug in response to whatever was going on.

“I know there have been times we haven’t seen eye to eye, but Bobby, you’re like a father to me. You gave me chance after chance when anyone else would have given up. You guided me on how to be a man. Y/N and I would like it if you’d be here for this.”

“Wait, are you getting married? What about the wedding?” Maddie spluttered, flicking her gaze between her brother and you. Her question surprised her boyfriend and Bobby.

“We’ll still have it. But I want to marry her without the pressure of our parents. Just a private ceremony with some of the people that mean the most to us.” Buck answered for the two of you, “Would you stay?”

“Of course.” Maddie softly spoke with a slideshow of memories playing in her mind of watching Buck grow up.

Watching Evan go through all kinds of injuries, all in the name of attention but never getting it the way he deserved it. She remembered giving him advice for asking out Donna and holding him when he was rejected. The little toddler with the impish grin somehow turned into an idiot in the hospital.

Maddie saw the man her little brother had turned into with the help of the 118 and you.

Buck’s fingers made quick work of buttoning his short-sleeve uniform with the sudden appearance of his friend.

“That’s new.” Eddie spoke from his opened locker holding his uniform and a picture of his family on the door. It was a picture of Christopher, Buck, you and Eddie from the zoo a couple months back.

Buck looked over at his best friend, “Hm?”

“The ring.” Eddie snorted dramatically, looking at the ring that had been living on his finger since he married you five days ago, “Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

“Nah, we just got married in the hospital. We’re still planning the wedding to appease both sides of our family. And I promised Christopher he could be in the wedding. With Y/N on medical leave, the planning will be faster. She’s going stir crazy after five days.” Buck finished tucking in the shirt into his work-issued pants. Lastly, he slid his ring onto the metal chain he had bought recently.

Like you did, he would wear it around his neck when working for safety reasons.

“I’m happy for you, man.” Eddie told his friend just as the bell rang, “You’ll have to tell me how you’re liking the married life.”

“But first, we have a job to do.” Buck supplied all the while jogging to suit up in his turnout gear with Hen and Chimney.

[enjennie]

Our Little Secret [Jaemin x Reader]

summary: How you ended up dating Na Jaemin and the struggles in hiding it from your brother Jeno.

genre: smut! fluff. secret relationship! au. brother's bestfriend au lmao

warnings: contains smut and profanity

a/n: hello! I've taken a really long break in writing and ALSO this is my first try in writing smut. Please excuse my inexperienced and beginner level in writing! enjoy ♡

On a normal day, you’d wake up at 8am nice and early to attend classes. But today was a weekend, and you hadn’t gotten much sleep thanks to your brother and his friends doing God knows in your backyard. Thus, explaining the hour in which you'd just woken up in being later than usual. You were just about to go down to get your first meal of the day at quarter to 12 in the afternoon.

“Hey, idiots! Call it a night, why don’t you?” You remember yelling through the window last night, scolding the boys.

You don’t know why you weren’t used to it yet. Every end of the month there would be boys night. Their favourite place to goof around in just so happened to be yours. Your parents were away on most nights, leaving their son in charge of the house more than not.

“Ya, Y/N! Go to bed,” yells Jeno, your brother who was the host of the night. You scowled and he does the same back at you. With heavy hands, you shut the window and wished it would block the noise out.

It was around 4 when you finally fell into a deep sleep, your earphones finally drowning out their screaming. No other reason as to why it took you that long to fall asleep at all. None at all. It wasn’t like you were waiting for a particular someone to slip into your room to give you some goodnight kisses.

Totally. Yeah, totally untrue. The truth is that you were waiting for Na Jaemin. You’ve been fooling around with him for a month now and you may or may not have asked him to come up for a bit.

You and Jaemin have been friends since your brother brought him home after school one day when you were little. Since then he’d become a familiar face around the house, always hanging about.

Unlike the other friends of your brother, Jaemin was different. Aside from being your brother’s closest friend, he wasn’t as wild and rowdy but rather calm and dare I say… maternal? He had the same vibe of a Kindergarten teacher. The other boys relied on him for advice and if they needed help with anything that had to do with adulting. You even caught Jaemin separating Jeno’s white and coloured clothes once and giving your brother an earful of why he should be doing them himself.

It all started when you came home one day, face strained with tears and mascara running down your cheeks. You’ve gotten dumped. The shittiest feeling ever. Jaemin just so happened to be passing by the house to drop over some video games he borrowed from Jeno when he saw you running towards the door. Before he could ask you what was wrong, you were already sobbing into his arms.

He's always been someone you found comfort in. You knew your feeling would just never be reciprocated so you did everything in your will to forget about it. But at that moment it just felt right, and Jaemin just so happened to be there at a time you needed someone the most.

You took him inside for some water and maybe a new change of shirt since you’d stained his with mascara. You didn’t expect to kiss him. You didn’t expect the kiss to lead into sex either. But soon enough your clothes travelled to the ground and you were pushing Jaemin into the pantry, too impatient to go up to your room but at the same time wanting a little privacy.

“Is this okay?” he breathed, hands roaming around your body in the dark. “I mean- your brother-“ he stutters.

“-isn’t here. Now make me feel good, Jaemin. Please,” you cut his sentence off. The last thing you wanted to think about before hooking up was your brother.

Your plea was the only push Jaemin needed. He was just helping you feel better after a breakup. Right? It’s not like he had underlying feelings for you since the first time Jeno introduced him to you. Right? Wrong again.

Jaemin knew things wouldn’t be the same for him after this, and he didn’t know if it was good or bad. Fuck, could I have at least told her I like her first? Jaemin was having an inner conflict all the while you were getting rid of his clothes bit by bit and touching him in places that felt so heavenly.

“Y/N, I like you,” he spat out.

You giggled, but you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t jump with joy. “Woah, I know we’re about to have sex but you don’t have to confess to me, y’know. It’s fine,” He really didn't have to make your heart flutter like that. You'd accepted it was just sex and you'd pretend nothing ever happened after this.

He took you by the shoulders and stood in front of him. He was glad the lights were off, so you wouldn’t see him all flustered. “No, Y/N. I actually like you. I like you a lot,”

The silence in the pantry was deafening and Jaemin swears he could hear his heart beating through his own ears waiting for your response. Instead, he feels your warm lips on his. Nothing could have been a better response.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I had to date so many jerks to try and get over you,” you whisper. Jaemin was grinning. He wanted the lights on now. He wanted to see you and hear what you just said to him. But he couldn’t find the switches so he just leaned in for another kiss.

The house is a mess and when you get to the living room you catch a glimpse of your brother and some of his friends laying on the couch and on the floor. Red cups and the TV playing on mute. You shake your head and sigh, knowing he’d get you to help him clean it up after. You don’t notice that the 7 boys in the living room was missing one.

When you get to the kitchen, you found the one missing boy from the group. Jaemin was up, flipping cooking up a breakfast. Compared to the living room, the kitchen was relatively clean. Only bowls, measuring cups and plates surrounded him for the pancakes he was cooking up.

He notices your presence and turns his head to face you, his smile instantly appearing on his pretty face.

“Morning, baby,” he greets, a sweet smile plastered on his face.

“Good morning,” you travel across the kitchen to get closer to him and take a peep of what he was cooking. His eyes follow you and he gets back to flipping the pancakes he had on the pan. He has to tear his eyes away from you.

You were clearly wearing his shirt. Getting braver, I see. You and him haven’t told anyone about the relationship yet. Not even Jeno. Jaemin’s been feeling horrible about it, but he wasn’t telling him only because you weren’t ready yet.

“You hungry? I made just enough for everyone,” he offers, directing his focus to the stove. The plate already had 10 steaming pancakes on it. It could probably fit 7 hungover boys and one starving you, right?

"Go set the table,” he doesn’t wait for your response because he knew without having to get one.

To your left were the plates and utensils already stacked and ready to go so you take them to set the table. The boys were still asleep so you tiptoe your way past them and quietly prepare the table. Jaemin follows suit, letting the smell of pancakes alone do the waking up for his friends. Although he wishes they take their time.

You take a seat, ready to dig in and he takes the seat beside you.

🔞 smut starts here

“Y/N, what would you say if I were to take you right now?” Jaemin’s question came out cool and easy, but it caused you to choke on the orange juice you were drinking.

You look to your right, where not too far away was your brother and his other friends in their slumber. Jaemin’s lips tug into a smirk at your reaction as he takes a bite of pancake.

“Pardon?” you ask, not quite believing what you’d just heard.

Jaemin leans closer to your ear this time before whispering, “I was asking what you’d do if I took you right now in the pantry,” his hand was reaching for the maple syrup beside you at the same time.

He sits back and uncaps it before pouring it slowly over his pancake. You watch him pour the smooth and sticky liquid and he watches as you bite down on your lip. He knew you were upset with him for not coming up to your room last night. But he simply couldn’t without being seen. He wanted to make it up to you for that.

“Your call,” he gets up and makes his way to the pantry room. You notice that the lights don’t go on from the small crack on the floor. After one last look at the living room, you take quick steps to follow him.

The moment you get through the door, Jaemin has you against the cabinet, his lips hungry and wanting.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t do this last night,” he apologizes, biting your lips and earning a whimper from you.“They didn’t pass out until 4:30 and I figured you were asleep,” He was explaining but you were already way passed it.

You didn’t care anymore. Nothing else mattered, you just wanted him. “I don’t care,” you whisper.

Jaemin pushed through your shorts and felt you through your lace panties. You’d worn it just in case he came last night. "That’s what you missed out on,” you tell him and he chuckles.

Not wasting another second, Jaemin pushes the lace out of the way and inserts one finger. You gasp, holding onto him for support as your knees weakened at his touch.

“Let me make it up to you,” he bites on your earlobe before adding a second finger.

He starts pumping, setting his own pace and removing any tiredness you felt from having to wait for him all night. When he curls his fingers you’re sent into nirvana, and when he starts sucking on your neck on the spot he knows you like, you couldn’t help but let a moan slip.

Jaemin’s hand clamps over your mouth. His eyes had had adjusted to the dark and he could see your expression. You stare at him with wanting eyes and it’s enough for him to keep going, fastening the pace.

When the knot in your stomach tightens, you claw on Jaemin’s back and he picks up on the signal and hoists you onto the counter before lowering himself and pulling the lace down all the way. You spread yourself, awaiting him and when he presses his mouth to your heat. You're immediately thrown into a whole other world, tangling your fingers in his hair and gasping for air with each time you feel his tongue trace your folds. Soon enough, you were releasing onto him and Jaemin was lapping it up clean.

As you came down from your high he’d gotten up and was watching you with a satisfied smile on his face.

“Fuck,” you manage to say, too dumbed out to make out any other words to explain what you felt.

You feel him kiss your forehead before he whispers to you again, “We gotta go,”

You nod, gulping and try to compose yourself. You grab a box of cereal blindly in case Jeno and his friends were already awake and would be suspicious of them before following Jaemin to the door. He gives you another kiss before pulling the door open.

Just as you’d suspected, your brother had just gotten up from the couch and was walking in at the same time you’d gotten out. He looked at you both skeptically, but his hangover probably made it hard for him to process anything. He takes a seat and yawns. The rest of the boys enter the room after him.

“That’s my cereal,” Jeno points out at the Frosty Flakes you were carrying. Jaemin had taken his seat and continued eating the pancake he left like he wasn’t just eating something else a minute ago.

“Jaemin said he wanted some. So I showed him where it was,” you shrug before placing it on the table and grabbing your plate of half-eaten pancake. “Seeya,” you tell them, but it was directed to Jaemin.

“Seriously, do you take your brother for such an idiot to think he doesn’t suspect anything between us?” Jaemin sighs.

You could hear his heart beating steadily, finally calming down after the strenuous activity you’d just done. You have your head resting on his chest and you’ve been observing it, the pace and how it seemed to doubled when you traced lines along his arm.

You laugh, “I don’t think he’s an idiot. I find it a little fun to be hiding something from him,”

Jaemin didn’t find it fun at all. To him it felt like he was betraying Jeno. You knew how guilty Jaemin feels which is why you’d conjured a little plan. Some would probably say it’s going too far, but you called it a test of love. You knew Jeno had probably figured it out anyway.

“Don’t worry, he’s a big boy. Besides, he always says you’re like a brother to him. So why don’t I make you his brother-in law?”

You sit up to look at the boy in the dim lighting of his room. He looked glorious, basking in the only light source that came through his window from the moon. He brings up a hand to caress your cheek and you felt safe. It felt like home.

“Na Jaemin, what are you doing?”

The voice made Jaemin jump. It wasn’t yours, it was low and thunderous. It was someone he knew all too well, and he knew better than to make up an excuse. He’s been caught, this is it. This day was bound to come anyway.

Jaemin pulls his face away from yours, freezing in his place on your bed and turning his head to the door where sure enough, Jeno was standing. His hands were folded and pissed would be an understatement. Jaemin could see all the veins on his best friend’s arm and neck.

“Now… Jeno-“ Jaemin begins to explain. You watch as he tries to figure out the words to say. He’s calmly walking closer to his friend and has left your side on the bed where not moments ago he was just kissing you in. Jeno looks at him expectedly, waiting for a reason.

“Can we talk outside?” Jaemin quietly asks, but Jeno doesn’t move from his place in the doorway.

“I’d like to talk here,” your brother firmly states.

Jaemin sighs, looking back at you before preparing what he was about to say.

“Jeno I really like Y/N. Screw it, call it love. I'm in love with her and I’m a horrible friend for not telling you but we were going to tell you sooner or later anyway. I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” he sincerely apologizes.

Your lips part, listening to his words. He was taking the blame completely.

“You probably hate the shit out of me but I really like your sister, man. And I want nothing but to treat her with utmost care and give her everything she deserves,” he rambles.

Jeno was staring down at his friend and his eyes look over to you. When you told Jeno that you were dating Jaemin, he flicked your forehead harshly and said “I know. I’m not stupid,”

When you told him about how you wanted to see how Jaemin would react to getting caught, you didn’t need to ask twice. Jeno was onboard and wanted to do it as soon as possible. It was a good thing you went ahead and told him beforehand because if you hadn’t, Jaemin might have gotten something more than a flick on the forehead.

“And cut,” you say from behind the two boys. Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow together as he steps back and watches Jeno’s expression shift from anger to his regular smile. The boy looked between you siblings in pure confusion and you walk to clasp your fingers together. “You just got pranked, dude,”

“Wait, huh?” exclaims Jaemin. Jeno’s already laughing at this point and you’re cupping Jaemin’s face in your hands lovingly. “I told Jeno last night. I just wanted to see how you’d react,”

“You menaces!” Jaemin yells, pointing his finger between you and your brother.

“God, since we were young. Always pulling the pranks on me,” he huffs with a frustrated look on his face. You replace that with a smile by giving him a quick peck.

“Alright, I’m gonna leave ‘cus that’s gross to watch,” Jeno backs away, patting Jaemin on the shoulder and gesturing to his room down the hall. “Also,” he adds, catching both you and Jaemin’s attention.

“Stop hooking up in the pantry. Jesus Christ, are you guys exhibitionists?”

[xgryffinwhore]

mama i’m in love with a hitman

summary: two years with barry what could go wrong? oh yeah hes a murderer-

warnings: some angst, marriage proprosal oop-

you had originally begun acting because it was the only affordable option to get you some time away from your family. ya, you still lived with your family.

anyways, acting became kind of like a release for you. you had been going for about 4 months now, you loved everyone you worked with, they were such great people.

then one day, barry berkman showed up,

and basically changed your life.

the first day you saw him, your heart basically feel out of your ass. holy shit was this guy hot; tall, mysterious, and awkward as hell. perfect.

you took him under your wing, immediately engaging with him and bugging him about his person endeavors and whatnot. you two became inseparable, youre bascially the only reason he even uses his messaging app.

you showed him the ropes of LA, giving him tours of sketchy venues, shitty Chinese restaurants. you always felt so awful for him, dragging him around to every place.

"I'm sorry, barry, im just trying to give you the full LA experience"

"its ok, being seen with the prettiest girl in LA isnt so bad"

yeah, one thing led to another, and you had moved into barry's apartment a year after. your relationship was strong; you cuddle, argue, fuck, all of that modern day romance contraband.

everything was exceptional, other than the fact that he was dragging his feet on marrying you...

yeah, you had dropped some major hints. wedding magazines everywhere, leaving honeymoon deals up on the desktop, evening face timing your friend and talking obnoxiously loud about the idea of getting hitched.

tomorrow was your two year anniversary, and you two had been buzzing about it all week, all the lovey dovey language and such.

"babe, tomorrows the day" he squeezed your shoulders from behind you. you were sitting at the coffee table, and he had just served you toast. "i know old man, didnt think we'd last did ya?" "first of all, im only like four years older than you, second" he kissed you on your temple "i knew you were the one."

in the midst of sipping your coffee and passing back and forth news papers, barry’s phone begins to vibrate; the name “Fuches” catches your eye. who was fuches and why did barry have to step out of the room to answer it?

when he came back he looked ghostly, his complexion pale and his lips quivering slightly. “all ok?” you ask, trying to sound lowkey; “uh um- yep. just have to head out for a bit, they need me at work.”

he left abruptly after, grabbing a hat and his black coat. weird. it was the middle june.

you hadn’t heard from him all day, except for a text at lunch that said

barry: Won’t be home tonight, dont forget to lock up.

your heart sunk, the day before your two year. i mean really what was his damage? you didn’t realize how hard it was to fall asleep without him, you tossed and turned until you eventually caved in and called.

ring...... ring.....

ring..........ring......

‘hey! it’s barry berk-uh um block! leave a message if you want to i guess um ok bye howthefuck do i turnthisthing off-OHH!’

oh how you missed that dorky man, true, it had only been a few hours but his touch was your saving grace. the line beeped and you decided to leave him something

“aha hey bar, y/n here. beds cold without you. miss you. be safe.”

the night way cold and long, you were drifting to sleep. but you heard the front door jangle. you sleepily run down the hall way and run straight into barry. you hugged him, his bosy was stiff and he was trying to inch away from you. "bar!" you whined looking up at him, his nose was bloody and he had a black eye.

“bar?” you wiped his cupid’s bow, the sleepy haze quickly wearing off. he pushes past you “just fell, please just wait for me in bed.” by the time you caught up with him at the bathroom, the door was already shut.

you heard the shower turn on, and you could hear him faintly hiss in pain. he was in there for a while, by the time he got back you could hear the birds chirp, which means it must have been close to 5 am. the sun was still down, and you watch his dark figure slip into bed next you to.

“i love you.” he whispered

“i love you too.” you turned to face him, you knew something was up, you knew he had been hiding something.

“you always leave in the night, when i’m sleeping you always leave barry. is it another women?” barry’s face contorts into a confused scribble. “y/n what? you’re the only one.”

“then why don’t you tell me what you’re really up to. go’s we’ve been dating for two years and you can’t even tell me why you sneak away in the night?!”

barry grabs your hands and puts them close to his face “god y/n i’m sorry happy two years” he gushed and kisses your fingers. a tear trailed down his stubbly cheek. “there are just things i can’t tell you because i don’t want to lose you.”

this hurt you, barry knew all of your deepest secrets, the things you never told anyone other then him. all of this had you worked up, how could he speak to you this way the day of your two year mark? despite his protests, you packed a tooth brush and drove to your friends to stay the night. this was just too much for 3am, you needed space. to clear your head.

you didnt sleep at all that night, you nodded off from 8am to 10, your friend waking you up. "girl i know you dont want to hear this... but barry is outside, hes been parked here since 9" she threw your jeans at you "now go outside and work this shit out, im not prepared to deal with your heart boken ass."

so you put on jeans, and headed for disaster.

you came outside, 'sleepy always looks so good on her' barry thought to himself. you loved him so much, it was so hard to fight with him.

"listen bar, im sorry im just sensitive you know th-"

"y/n"

barry never interrupted you. for as long as you remember there has never once been a time where barry talked over you, or interrupted what you were saying. its something you loved about him, he always seemed so interested in what you had to say, he thought your words where so important.

"yes?"

he pulled a rolled up magazine out of his pack pocket, it was yours, it had faded circles on what cakes and dresses you wanted. he unrolled it and scurried to the 5th page. he pointed at the big raise ranch that you put exclamation points next to.

"this house, i want this house."

he went to the 8th page.

"and this car, we could have that if i stop going to wendys so much"

he giggled to himself and mumbled something about how he knows a guy that can re pair a cooling system.

'uh-um ok barry, what does this have to do with anything? house, car, is this what you drove over here to tell me? you want a better car? you need a bigger house."

he shook his head and trialed to the second page with that beautiful sheath wedding dress, you remembered that.

"youll wear this yeah? some time in the early fall. wouldnt that be nice, still warm, and the leaves-oh the leaves- orange and yellow bring out your eyes so i just figured."

he pulled out the rock, and shit, it didn’t disappoint. you’re not materialistic but what the FUCK?! how did he even afford that-

he slipped it on your finger and you both embraced. messy kisses all over whatever skin you two could find. it was bliss, it was happiness.

you hugged for a while. just sat there reflecting on how far you two had come, and how happy he was going to make you feel for the res rod your life. it’s crazy, you thought marriage wasn’t in the cards for you. but with barry, you can see 5 kids, a dog, and a stupid picket fence.

you were so captured in this moment, you didn’t notice barry’s demeanor change. you looked up and him, he was pale white, staring behind his shoulder at the street. you leaned over his forearm and saw a beat up mom car.

in it was a shaggy dude, didn’t look too much older then barry. he was plump in the face, and his face was aged.

“fuches!?” barry exclaimed.

“come on. we have a hit, i habe your sniper in the back. now.”

another WHAT?

[nyanaminsbread]

little concept idea for my previous post

" Na~na~mi~~ " Gojo sang, skipping after Nanami like a deranged clown, " You wound me ! " he said dramatically, placing both hands on his kouhai's shoulders, " Weren't we good friends in Jujutsu Tech ? "

Nanami sighed, the long suffering sigh of someone who'd been putting up with Gojo's insufferable behaviour for more years than they'd liked.

" Gojo, " Nanami began, " You annoyed me every single waking moment of my life in Jujutsu tech. "

" It's because I loved you ! " Gojo whined, trailing after him.

" And, you did something ... repulsive to me, " Nanami continued, deadpan, " Though I doubt you remember. " He added on, giving Gojo a look.

Gojo stared.

" Of course I do ! " He yelled, indignantly, attracting the gazes of some of the first years - mainly Fushiguro and Yuuji. Maki, Panda, and Inumaki ignored the scene, as if this were normal to them.

Knowing Gojo, it probably was.

" Sure you do, " Nanami said, deadpan, " Now if you excuse me, I'll be leaving first, I have things to do and places to be. "

Then, just as fast as he'd re entered Gojo's life, he left.

••

Gojo was a person who rarely thought and pondered deeply about things. He'd used to enjoy saying, " Leave the thinking to smart people ! Like our Nanamin here ~~ ", because it was funny. Nanami's annoyed face was a priceless sight.

" Oh god, " Gojo said, " Is that why he hated me ? "

" Sensei ? " Yuuji piped up, confused, looking up from his plate of steak - that sweet, sweet, boy, Megumi continued taking bites out of the garlic focaccia he'd ordered, while Nobara was busy with her risotto.

" My beloved kouhais, " Gojo exclaimed, dramatically, " I need your help ! "

" What. " Megumi said.

" It's about Nanami~~ " Gojo lamented, " He said I did something truly repulsive and horrible to him but I can't remember what I did that wounded him so deeply ! "

He was met with the sight of Nobara, Megumi, and Yuuji staring blankly at him.

Then, " Your existence is repulsive in itself, " and Yuuji was slapping a hand over the mouth that appeared on his cheek.

" Sorry, Gojo sensei, " he laughed nervously, " uh. Sukuna. He comes out on his own. You know, "

Gojo blinked.

" Maybe, " Nobara chimed in, thoughtfully, " You took something he liked ? People hate it when others take their things, like when someone, " she said, shooting a look at a thoughtful looking Gojo, " Took my skirt and pranced around with it, "

" Oh. " Gojo said, horrified, as realisation dawned on him, " so it was that. "

••

Nanami and Gojo had been in the second and third year of jujutsu high when the Incident™ had occured.

Gojo had been hungry. Nanami had happened to leave his casse croûte out in the open. Gojo had naturally, unwrapped the casse croûte and taken a bite ( a big one ) out of the sandwich, and when Nanami had found out, he'd gone absolutely berserk.

Gojo still held the memories of that day fondly in his heart. He remembered how Nanami had chased after him in the courtyard with his blunt sword, with Haibara and a very amused Getou trying to hold Nanami back, while said jujutsu sorcerer was screaming bloody murder at Gojo and threatening to exorcise him, since he was " clearly an annoying curse that needed to be exorcised " .

Of course, the next day, Nanami, gracious as ever, had bowed stiffly to apologise for his actions, and Gojo had apologised as well for eating his casse croûte and that had been that.

Or so Gojo thought. He had no idea that after what - 5 years ? Nanami still held a grudge over the casse croûte, but he supposed he did. After all, Nanami loved bread - especially the casse croûte and croquette bread in particular. Gojo remembered.

Which is why, on a fine Monday morning, he was at the bakery Nanami usually frequented at 8am - right after it'd opened, to buy him an apology casse croûte.

He could only pray Nanami would accept it. Maybe, Gojo thought, paying for the casse croûte, this would be a new start ? A fresh page to their blossoming romance !

[beingdreeyore]

Another 24 hour on call shift done. This one wasn’t so bad. I mean, it was. The 16 hours I was in and out of the hospital were a bloodbath, but then the phone didn’t ring at all between midnight and 8am. I kept waking up to check that I hadn’t accidentally switched it off somehow, but it seems the on call gods were finally smiling on me. 

The day after those shifts I still find myself filled with self-doubt. It’s been that way since I was an intern and in some ways it’s better and in others it’s worse now. I second guess every decision I made the day before. Did I write things clearly in the notes? Is that person I discharged still alive? When I pushed back on the nurses was it fair? Did I do the best thing by each of my patients? Were my management plans the best they could be?

I can be abrupt under pressure and sometimes I think people read me the wrong way, but I actively work at being better at it. Every single shift. Some of you might remember when I was with The Actor, I’d keep a note on my phone reminding me that if the call didn’t go well, he wouldn’t call back. It would make me pause before answering. I don’t have a note anymore, but I do force myself to take a breath - we’re are all stressed and under pressure, we are all doing the best we can. Then, if the request isn’t ridiculous, at some point in the conversation I try to make the other person laugh. It helps both of us.

Having a work laptop at home makes it easier too. I know I shouldn’t (I should take the day to just not be at work in any capacity, I know) but I log in to answer all those questions for myself. After some sleep, would I have done anything differently? I still have a healthy enough amount of self-doubt that I don’t make rash or snap decisions at work and so checking in the next day I rarely change my mind, but it’s good to see it all through the light of a new day. 

I learn a lot on those shifts. Every now and again I also catch myself answering something without hesitation that once upon a time would’ve sent me into a irritably anxious mess. But another one is done. Two down for the week. And now I can finally take a chance to breathe. It’s needed.

[tenderlyrenjun]

the one with the morning classes

summary: you don’t really want to go to class, and Yangyang half-agrees.

↛ ↛ ↛ psych major!Yangyang x art history major!reader

↛ ↛ older female reader, college au, mentions of alcohol, yearning, best friends to lovers/ish, smut (18+) - there is literally sex in every scene, best friend!ten on both sides, study dates, love confessions in bed

↛ word count: 11,9k (I am so sorry lmao)

part one > part two > part three

if you are under 18 and interact with this at all, i will block you

An obnoxious ringing interrupts your day, way too early, and you whine at it, suddenly reminded about the terrible decision that you made last year with the on-call academic advisor: selling your soul to Satan, or, as they phrased it, taking an 8 A.M. class. The default iPhone ringtone seems especially heartless right now, even though you have a class at this time every semester.

Still, it takes Herculean effort to pull your hot, sweaty face out of the pillows and actually get a breath of fresh air. You inhale once, twice, then support yourself on your elbows, tossing all your messy hair over your bare back, like a curtain, to draw it away from your cheeks. The sunlight makes you squint, not having given you enough time to adjust to it yet, because laying in bed, naked, is so much more enticing than actually waking up. Unfortunately, the ringing persists, getting louder, you think. You find yourself clawing through the sheets again, in search of that damn alarm. And when you do find it, screen faced down, you hit snooze via power button, giving yourself extra time before class.

After the annoying sound stops, Yangyang leans toward your naked shoulder, his d!ck thrusting in you at a further angle. He kisses the tip your spine with slightly parted lips, peppering more along your deltoid muscles, directed by his trailing tongue. You cannot tell was tingles more – the goosebumps left in his wake, or the blood rushing to your vulva, caused by the nipping at your skin. Yangyang finds a more permanent spot (that would be hidden by a shirt) above your collarbone and sucks deeper for a few seconds. Instinctively, you drop your cheek into the sheets again and swirl your ass up, before propping your lower body on your knees. His groans fall with you, and he nearly did too, but he stands on his hands. You are very aware of his strength, especially now as you close your eyes and he reverses your moves, grinding his hips forward. One of his hands reaches forward to grab your face and finally kiss you. He is slow and head spinning, and he continuously inclines his head at varying degrees to keep the embrace going.

Then, your phone goes off again and you break the kiss.

“We need to get – Oh, God.” Your forehead redirects onto the mattress, and your breath becomes shallow, cracked by sharp whines blurring out the alarm. As far as you are concerned, Yangyang is all consuming, from the way he kisses you to the way he makes you feel. “Ah, right there, please.” He squeezes your ass, fingers drilling deeply into your skin. His touch feels better than a massage, you think, almost loosening up all your muscle tension.

“So naughty,” Yangyang whispers, strongly. He sounds masculine without being so aggressive. It is very sexy of him. You try to show him, too, that he is hot, by reacting more enthusiastically. Unlike him, you say it silently and hope he knows. He replies, slapping your butt again, and smirks when you moan. “Wanna play hooky? You still, fuck –“ His breath drops, voice getting lower, huskier. He propels his d!ck shallowly, at the same pace your mouth widens in an ‘O’ shape. “- remember your manners.”

“Mmm hmm,” you agree. You roll your hips side to side, slowly stretching as if coming out of child’s position in yoga. It similarly feels satisfactory, like an injection of morphine. “We really need to get up. I have class; you ­– shit –“ His thrust pushes you forward, muting your counterarguments. “- you have class soon.”

Yangyang combs your baby hairs onto your opposite shoulder, gently nibbling around your thyroid, and you whine, knowing that you have an easily swayed mindset right now. “It doesn’t sound like you want to get up yet.” He guides your hips like a figure eight motion. His hand comes around front, between your thighs, holding on in a way that allows him to stimulate your clit with his index and thumb. Every movement gets more intense: the speed, the pressure, even the direction of his fingers, as he elongates all the sensations. It feels like he gets bigger too, lunging more alert with his thrusts. “You need a good wake up call, huh?”

You nod, eagerly, biting your lip. “Mmhmm, my morning ritual is, is really long, fuck.”

Yangyang smirks, motivated even more by the double entendre. And the way his tip rasps against your walls, oh god. You ball the sheets into your fists, putting a protective layer between your nails and palm because he gradually becomes erratic. He comes down to your ear, using his lips to bite at it while whispering, “Wanna turn off the alarm?”

“Hmm?” You open your eyes. “Oh, right.” It doesn’t feel like it has been nine minutes. So, after you pick your phone up again, you turn it over to look at the alarm settings, but it is replaced by the call acceptance slider. You blink a couple times and try getting a clearer look – which is difficult, considering that your head keeps bouncing as he grinds harder and harder, and harder. Then, the call restarts. “Shit.”

Yangyang stops moving to glimpse at what’s wrong. His chest brushes against your back and you can feel his erect n!pples graze your spine. You turn the screen at him, contemplating whether to answer it. Thank God, though, that Ten isn’t asking to FaceTime. You honestly don’t know how you would recover from him seeing Yangyang lay naked on you, especially after that comment at the Halloween party about feeling ‘too comfortable’ with him like this.

“I’m gonna answer it.”

“What?”

“I have to answer it,” you argue. “It’s Ten. He’s going to suspect something if I don’t.” The call ends again, and the notification center shows six missed calls. You turn over your phone again. “Shit, he’s been phoning all morning. I have to answer it.”

You partially expect Yangyang to get up. Instead, he comes down, brushing your hair over your shoulder and pushes you into the blanket. You stretch your arms away from him to redial Ten’s number, although your hands (and thighs) start shakily with his moves. The line rings four times before Ten answers, and you sigh, half-disappointed, half-orgasmically.

“Um, hello?” Ten answers sarcastically, on speaker. “Are you ready? ETA 20.” You hear rustling on the other end that sounds similar to Yangyang ruffling your bedsheets. He is trying to get at your t!ts and you let him, propping up into a true doggystyle. Ten doesn’t appear to discern anything, so you keep the phone on mute – which is necessary because you buck your hips at Yangyang, getting his tip angled on your g-spot. He outlines your n!pples, fingers squeezing over your areola. You almost moan again, but Ten reminds you about his presence: “I’m getting in my car right now.”

“Hmm?” Why?

The silence is deafening, all excess noise stopping, until it is just your heavy breaths and small wet noises. You widen your eyes, thinking that Ten discovered your current … entanglement, so you grab Yangyang’s hand, to suppress anymore sounds. It makes you lose balance temporarily, but expectedly he catches you, by the waist. He waist a few seconds, then drops his wrist to your clit, lightly sliding up and down without thrusting his d!ck. You let him continue, panting with your lower abdomen quivering. He has to stop though, because his exhibitionist tendencies might expose you two. You take his hand off your clitoral hood and kiss his inner wrist before sucking his fingers clean. He shudders his hips. You bite your lip. He smiles. Then, he takes his hand back, planting it into the mattress for extra support so that you can actually answer this call, that the two of you keep forgetting about.

“It’s my treat, remember?” Ten tries to jog your memory, nearly shouting. You can hear him breaking through your bubble. It is just that you are a bit distracted at the moment to really recall any memories. You cannot be entirely held accountable for Yangyang’s big d!ck.

Yangyang starts sucking on your neck again, pushing his pelvis slowly into your ass harder, to give you a better reminder: that you are currently being a good girl for him, to make up for being so naughty this morning (even though he also seemed pretty close to ditching class earlier).

“For breakfast yesterday, after the party,” Ten outwardly tells you. Right, it’s Monday, and you often grab coffee with Ten on the way to campus because 8AMs are hell – you have to absorb new information when you can barely see through all the crap in your eyes, and he can barely comprehend his notes from the night before without the morning bean juice. There is some shuffling on his end again, similar to shaking his wrist free of a sweater to get a better look at his watch. It isn’t enough to hide the moan trapped in your throat. So, you try biting your fist as Yangyang swirls his hips, grazing the ends of your nerves. You roll your eyes to the back of your head and hit mute, in order to moan. “Unless you want to walk? I don’t think you’ll make it though. It’s, like, almost 7:20.”

“What?” your voice cracks. You are still muted though, so you un-mute and repeat the exclamation, whining a little when Yangyang tries to get you to orgasm faster, also having heard the time. Hopefully Ten does not notice anything. You think that you were quiet enough to push it off as a complaint.

“I’ll be outside your apartment in 20.”

Yangyang pulls your chin to make you look at him, staring at you to ask what is going on. You mouth a quick explanation: Ten. Ride. Coffee. 20 minutes. He is so close, warm breath enveloping your skin. You take the distance, initiating yet another kiss, essentially in front of your best friend, although the latter cannot hear or see either of you. Yangyang holds onto your chin, possibly afraid of being swept away or falling again. But you have enough support for both of you, and you know that if you fell, he would catch you. So, you kiss him again, and again.

“Hello?” Ten calls into the void. “Did you lose signal again? See, I told you not to choose the shitty complex on Main because the connection is so bad there.”

You put a hand above Yangyang’s heart and clear your voice, turning to the speaker. “I’m still here. Just, hold on a second.” You hit mute again, then turn to Yangyang. “Do you want a ride too?” Yangyang contemplates for a second, and you drop your forehead into your elbow, biting your lip because, after all, he is still inside you, inside your clenching and very aroused p.ussy, where you want him to finish. He nudges your shoulder with his nose and confirms that yeah, he needs a ride. You kiss him a few more times, unsure why, just wanting to be close – something about want to say in his presence, enjoying his presence. He swirls his hips. It feels really good to be with him. “Yeah, so Yangyang is in the neighborhood.”

“Wha-“

“A huh,” you whine, more at Yangyang than Ten. “He just texted me. He’ll meet you – us! He’ll meet us at my apartment. I’m going to get ready now, bye!” you say everything in one breath, hanging up as equally abruptly before Ten could insert his two cents. You drop the phone and turn around, kissing Yangyang deeply. As he returns your affection, you enunciate slowly, “Five minutes, then we have to get ready. Ten is getting too suspicious.”

Yangyang finishes a little bit after five minutes, not that you mind. Non-residents have to get buzzed into your building, and Ten doesn’t have a key to your front door. You indulge the moment, laying on your arm bent under a pillow. He looks at you with all the care in the world, no longer that suave fuck buddy from a few moments ago but a young romantic who caresses your inner thigh and talks big game about all the connections you two have in common, or don’t. Your hand dips to the top of his head, combing a small section with your nails to his ends. Yangyang asks you for the time, and you almost don’t give it to him, preferring to spend time with him here than overanalyzing some stupid thesis statement that you wrote at 4AM. You pout, and pull his phone between the two of you, showing him that Ten will arrive in ten minutes – ironic, you think.

Yangyang approaches your face, millimeters from your lips. He waits for you to flutter your eyes closed, anticipating a kiss, then runs into the shower. It takes you a minute to join him, and when he sees you, smirking, like you have some dastardly revenge plan in the works, Yangyang shuts the glass door, isolating himself in the cold shower. He holds on extra tightly so that you cannot get in. You look hot when you are annoyed though – he needs to annoy you more. It is even more fun to mollify you. He pulls you into the shower next to him by grabbing your ass and makes out with you against the wall for a few seconds, until you start stretching at the lavender body wash on the shelf behind him.

This time, Yangyang finishes first, hopping out to sprinkle the roots of his hair with dry shampoo so Ten does not get too suspicious. If he has wet hair, then it would be obvious that he stayed over. He puts the powder back on the shelf and wanders into your room, towel wrapped loosely around his waist – even though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. There are a few of his clothes in your closet from all the time you stole them, or a couple mini getaways that you two have taken. After he changes into an outfit that he can actually wear in public, he picks out an extra one of his over-sized shirts and drapes it on the towel rack for when you get out. He knows that you really like his clothes, especially the organic band tees. It is another plus that you share the same music taste. Hopefully, none of his friends catch onto the coincidental similarities.

Yangyang likes that you spend a lot of time in his clothes. They always end up smelling like your lotions. It is comforting and reminds him of all the nights ‘studying’ until 3AM. You know, not that he would actually say it out loud (mostly because he also likes to wear his favorite shirts), but you look cuter than him, in his Kendrick Lamar concert tee. And besides, there is a secondary reason as to why he rummaged through your underwear drawer: he wanted to choose your panties for today. It might be a black lingerie set, but how is he supposed to know the difference between a t-shirt bra and a balconette? :^)

Yangyang makes his way into the kitchen, snagging a mini muffin off the island. With the work out he just had, he needs protein but there isn’t enough time to cook anything, not that he actually could; eh, he’ll end up buying something on campus. He tosses two more muffins into his backpack for later – one chocolate for him, one strawberry for you. On Mondays, between classes, he usually catches you in the student experience center, finishing some last-minute assignments. You always end up pushing lunch until after four, ergo he tries to bring you some snacks, whenever he can. Once, his research methods class got cancelled and you didn’t have any pre-lecture materials to work on, so he brought two cups of ramen. You two had a semi-date then. He wonders if it can happen again, today. Ten interrupts the thought though, before it can develop into a real plan, and he sighs. He doesn’t know why, but he keeps thinking about defining this relationship at the worst possible times.

“Yellow?” Yangyang answers, mid-bite. He shifts the phone to his shoulder so that he can check your notification center for any missed calls. You have three. Ten has been going to voicemail all morning, Yangyang deduces, and if he was Ten, he would be damn suspicious at this point.

“Hi, baby,” Ten coos. “I’m outside. Buzz me in, yeah?”

Yangyang reflexively pouts. “I’m not your baby. I’m 20 now.” Still though, he complies, letting Ten into the building, and his friend is upstairs within a minute – not that it is too far. You live on the second floor.

“So,” Ten sings while glancing around the apartment. Yangyang wonders what for – hopefully, not searching for his secret relationship. Ten closes the door, his eyes landing on Yangyang and eying him down suspiciously, in a curious way. “What are you doing in the neighborhood, anyways?”

“I, uh, bought breakfast at Allen’s coffee, down the street,” he lies, “And I didn’t feel like walking back to the frat.” He shrugs too, trying hard to be as nonchalant as possible.

“A huh.” Ten does not seem to accept it, but he lets it slide when you walk into the room, wearing Yangyang’s t-shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans. Yangyang cannot see why Ten would recognize the top because you also happen to like Kendrick Lamar – one of your favorite songs is King Kunta, even though you cannot sing along to save your life. Yangyang finds it endearing that you enjoy rap music, even though you cannot match the flow or pitch.

His gaze is still endearing when you walk into the kitchen, beelining for the last mini muffin. Yangyang catches how intensely he was staring at you, after you blink at him (and Ten).

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” they mutter, looking away.                        

“Okay,” you drawl suspiciously, swallowing half your breakfast. You fold the rest of it into the front pocket of your backpack and pick up your textbook. Yangyang meets your gaze but you immediately flicker to Ten. “Can we grab something at Starbucks really quick?”

Ten stares at Yangyang. You just got coffee for yourself, even though you were coming here? Yangyang waves a hand, unsure how to respond. This whole secret relationship has gone on longer than he thought it would. It was supposed to be a one-night stand kind of thing when he first kissed you, the night that Ten introduced you two back in March after Renjun’s birthday party, and not even a one-night stand! He just expected you to make out with him, not give him a blowjob in Kun’s bathroom then let him take you back to his room at the frat.

“What?” You look between them. Yangyang shakes his head, nothing. You stare him down and give in, then turn back to Ten. “I haven’t eaten anything. Please?”

“Alright, fine,” Ten cedes. He holds his hands up in surrender, his keys waving like a white flag. As you all file out the door, Yangyang jokingly asks if he can drive. Ten deadpans at him, protective over the car, and smacks him on the back of his head. “Let’s go.”

Yangyang barely notices when they pull into the drive-thru on 1st, too busy scrolling through Instagram while you and Ten talk about an EDM festival coming this weekend. He only picks up his head when you lean over the gear shift, blocking the GPS from his view (in the middle seat) – he was monitoring the distance to make sure that you get to class on time.

“Can we get two breakfast sandwiches, an iced coffee with 2% milk, and an iced London fog latte, extra pump of vanilla, with coconut milk?” You turn to ten. “Want anything?”

Ten furrows his eyebrows. Neither of them looks at Yangyang, and he lowers his phone, knowing that he is about to be caught in a lie. He didn’t think that Ten would ask anything because of the time crunch. Evidently, he was wrong, and now he doesn’t know how to unspin the lie.

“Who are you ordering all that food for?” Ten asks.

You look at him skeptically, a what the fuck hanging palpably in the air before you point to the backseat. “For the baby.”

“Not a baby,” Yangyang pipes up, voice cracking. He tugs on the collar of his shirt, smiling embarrassed.

Ten turns on his side, back facing the window as he stares between the two of you, ultimately settling on Yangyang. “I thought that you said you already got breakfast at Allen’s.” Ten rotates to you. “That’s why he’s in the neighborhood, right?”

A huh, yeah. Yangyang almost tells another lie but the monitor clerk asks if they want anything else, and they are holding up the line with an empty lane in front. Saved by the bell intercom. Ten orders an extra americano, then you all persist through the awkward silence until reaching the front window. You pay with the app as Ten passes out the round of drinks like a bartender. Yangyang pokes his paper straw through the lid. You can’t baby him if he does everything himself first.

“Uh, are you good?”

Yangyang looks up. You have your iced latte between your legs, holding it at the top of your thighs on your crotch like an ice pack.

“Yeah, what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Ten enunciates, putting this drink in the cup holder, “people only put ice on their private parts when they’re sore.” He widens his eyes, posture stiffening and he points at you. “Did you have that guy over? The best y-“

“You don’t –“ You hold up a hand, physically interrupting him. Yangyang should have known that Ten would never seriously suspect him as your fuck buddy; he doesn’t know whether to be relieved or offended. “- have to repeat it. I just feel sore.”

Yangyang smirks at that, but he has to hide it when Ten looks at him, pinching his cheeks down like a Tim Burton character. The look in Ten’s eyes is confused again, and he knows that one of two questions is going to come out: if he met that guy that you’re sleeping with, of if he is the guy that you are sleeping with. Fortunately, Yangyang sees the navigation touch screen, and the time is two minutes until eight and you are five minutes off campus. Ten has to drop the conversation and speed to the art building so that at least you get there on time. The extra few minutes he has to spend alone with Ten gives him the idea to cool things off with you for a few days.

That sounds bad, like he is blowing you off, but honestly, you agreed.

Yangyang caught you in front of the communal office space for linguistics GTAs, a few minutes before office hours ended. He snatched you into a supply closet, dragging you by the waist, and covered your mouth to prevent you from screaming bloody murder. You two acknowledged the thin ice that has been melting for a couple weeks now. And he brought up taking a break from seeing each other for a while. At first, you thought that he was breaking up with you – or as close to breaking up as possible, because still, you are not dating. But then, he saw your face and reassured you that he does want to keep seeing you, even in secret; maybe next time, you two should talk about your relationship.

Friends do not need to see each other every day, you know. Or, like, at least, casual friends don’t. Sure, you FaceTime Ten all the time and Yangyang lives with Xiaojun so he sees his best friend daily by default, but you two are not similarly close friends, especially not when other people can perceive how you two interact. No one has to know just that you see Yangyang just as often, in person. And you do it because, well, because you like him – which explains how he ends up back in your bed by Wednesday.

“I’m gonna be late again.”

“No, you won’t.”

Yangyang reaches around your collarbone, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip until he can comfortably hold your jaw. He draws you in for another kiss, his eyes mirroring yours - distracted, enamored, aroused. You cautiously spin around, throwing your arms around his neck to avoid getting swept away, which seems impossible because he holds you securely, at your mandible and the beltloop on your waist. He inhales upon the next embrace, closing his pretty mouth over your philtrum like a slow bite – like several slow bites. You meet him, every time, at the end of each kiss when he shifts onto his toes, getting too tall for your lips, and pull him back on the ground to get more. He moans, after you start roaming your hands under his shirt, running your nails over the crevices in his body like a memorization technique for an early class you don’t have.

You feel hungry, for love, wanting to feel warm. The sun will not rise for another half hour, but he is the warmest thing in the room, even though you are fully dressed, not expecting to be late like two days ago. He copies your moves, unbuckling his hand like a belt, sliding it under your shirt and palming your b.oobs. Then, you squeal, giggling breathily, when he spins you around again and smacks your ass, pushing your thighs into the mattress that you two are standing over.

“Do you trust me?” he whispers in your ear, sucking upward on your external jugular vein.

“No.”

Yangyang stops, deadpanned. He hits your butt again, like a punishment – his favorite kind of punishment, it seems because he repeats it every morning like a bad kind of player, the rich one who goes to bars and unexpectedly falls in love with an attendee, as if it is a coming of age Netflix movie. He repeats it again until you fall on your hands over the bed. You look behind your shoulder at him, jaw dropped. And he takes no time to interpret it, stumbling next to you.

You roll over, led by your hips, so that you can match him, latching onto his face with your hands on his cheeks. “Of course, I trust you, dummy.”

He looks down still, picking at the seams of your jeans. And you detect his teasing tone, easily, because he goes directly to your inner thighs, tracing up along the thread until he reaches your zipper. “Really?”

You roll your eyes, then make him look at you. He has that kicked-puppy expression in the way the outline of his eyes falls below his eyebrows, but the glint and the gummy smile have you knowing otherwise. “Yes.”

Yangyang pops your pants button undone, mischievously pulling his lips into a dramatic pout. “And you’re not lying to me?”

“No,” you emphasize. You brush his hair back, scratching your nails along his scalp, behind his ears. His smile cannot help itself, breaking out in a way that has you completely immersed. It reminds you of that time when you went go karting with Ten and a few others. You were undoubtedly a bad driver, bumping into the track walls, even during the straight lanes. One time, you made a particularly excellent sharp turn, surpassing Johnny to the finish line. Unfortunately, you were completing lap 3 of 5 and him 5 of 5, but Yangyang still congratulated you afterward – in bed. He also lit up, when you two were just laying under the covers, staring at the ceiling because the stars were too far away. You held onto the arm around your waist, laying on his naked shoulder as he told you about wanting to be a race car driver as a kid, then an automotive or aerospace engineer as a teenager, before he settled on psychology. He kept talking, as if crafting this beautiful galaxy. That is when you knew.

“Prove it.”

“What?” You sit up and straddle him. “How do you want me to prove it?”

Yangyang starts begging for affection, slithering his hand down your stomach, into your underwear. He pulls you into his chest, giggling when you topple him into the pillows, clearly not having estimated the force. You like that you never have to beg for his attention. He always, for some reason, notices you, and it is so hard not to pick up on it. You wonder just how no one has learned about you two yet. It’s not like you are being subtle. Although, the smallest acts he gives you can be found under subtle in the dictionary. Like now, he tucks your hair behind your ear, gaze flickering from his hand across your cheek to your eyes. You kiss him again – only a brief peck, because he inserts two fingers inside you, making you gasp sharply enough to break.

“Can I confess something?” you ask, suddenly braved by an idea to prove that you do trust him.

Yangyang stops fucking you, his fingers flexed still. He scans your face for an actual lie but knows that he will never find one, mostly because he already knows the next few words out of your mouth; he has felt the same way for months. And maybe, at this point, he owes you some explanation, for keeping his own confession unspoken. He wants to give it to you first, before your own declaration. It is something that he thinks he should do, like a societal norm for the guy to confess – that is what all the romantic movies say, right? Well, there is Princess Leia and Han with their whole I love you and I know dynamic, and while that was really cool in the scene, Yangyang has a fixed scenario in his head.

“I love you,” he blurts, quickly, sitting up.

“You love me?”

His heart drops. You are not supposed to surprised. He was nearly 100% confident that you had fallen in love with him, too, but this might confirm that so much was in his head. You keep staring at him, jaw slacked and hands on his shoulders. Only when he starts pulling away do you react, catching his hand.

“I really like you,” Yangyang reiterates, self-pouring salt into his bleeding heart. He hesitates for a second, unsure if he should even be vulnerable again, but what does he have to lose? “I –“ He swallows, still looking into your eyes – “I love you.”

Then you kiss him.

And he lets you kiss him.

He lets you kiss him because of the way you cradle his face, like he is made of glass, like he is the most precious crystal that you have to protect. Your lips get softer when he wets them with his tongue, after feeling confidence in your embrace. You kiss him in a way that takes away the word the love, wrapping him in a security blanket to return the warmth.

“I love you,” you whisper slowly, barely audibly enough for him to hear it over the smack of your tongue as you lower to him. You pause, mouth slightly ajar on his. “Too.”

Yangyang peers at your closed eyes, almost willing you to open them so he can tell you, again, that he loves you, so he can see your reaction when he really tells you. He grabs your face and sits up again. You roll your head to the side, like you anticipate his kiss. He gives it you, simultaneously returning his hand into your pants.

“What time is it?”

“What?”

“What time is it right now?” Yangyang asks you with a sense of urgency.

You turn around, fumbling around for your phone, which is now somewhere mixed in your sheets. The two of you had spent a good ten minutes remaking the bed after the night you had, and currently, blankets are strewn across, folded into messy piles. With the thought distracting you, Yangyang slips two fingers past your underwear again, twisting the crotch area with his thumb for easier access. You pause, sighing heavily, hand bunching up the linen as he scissors you.

“I asked you a question,” he reminds you, slightly stuttering at the end, hesitant to add a term of endearment. Even with the confessions you both just gave, it does not define your relationship and he doesn’t know how to broach it just yet, only wanting to kiss you closely and hear all the love sounds that he feels deprived of.

“It’s 6:21.”

“Good,” Yangyang whispers in your ear as he prepares you to take him. “We have time.”

Yangyang redirects your face to his, tilting your chin up as he leans to the side, almost inhaling your lips. Upon another kiss, he adds his tongue, tired of the light pecks. They don’t express his affection as much as he wants, because small embraces end quicker, causing you to withdraw – which is the furthest desire from his mind, especially considering that he just confessed, multiple times. He curls his tongue, placing only the tip beyond your lips. You check him, trying to catch his tongue but merely snagging his spit. He smirks because you whine again. Was that not enough? Obviously not, he notes after you pull back, breathing on his lips, making him chase you. Your breath sounds rapid and rough, and he wants to alleviate your nerves. Yangyang extends his neck again, craning to meet your lips. He gives you a second to recover, to prepare, panting the faintest ghost kisses across your lower face. Your hand comes above his shaking heart, stopping there as you bite your lip coyly. He wonders if you want to stop. Both of you just acknowledged a lingering more-than-friends adoration.

But then you slide your hand under his chin, making him really look at you.

“I love you,” you repeat.

The repet!tion exceeds his own confession, and he isn’t sure whether to confess again, but you take the initiative for him, rocking side to side like ridin’ d!ck bicycle. Yangyang parts his lips just enough to blow small, uneven breaths. He feels you open his jeans while shifting over one of his thighs, his fingers still trembling inside you. Sex with you always feels so reciprocated. Your nails graze his c.ock erect, your hand tightening at the tip, where you push your thumb on his pre-cum. It gives almost the same sensation as your tongue and the sensation gets more intense. He starts thrusting in tandem, making you clench, around his bicep, for support. When you start flicking the flesh on the underside of his penis (the part that connects the shaft to head), he stops your hand.

Yangyang comes forward, caressing your mouth and massaging your clit. “I’m gonna cum.”

“So cum,” you taunt him, smirking into the kiss.

Your resolve temporarily falters, dripping into a moan that he swallows up wholly. He keeps sinking his fingers at different depths, at a fast and shallow pace, waiting for you to reach the same point. You certainly feel wet enough. He touches that spongey tissue area in your p.ussy that has you seeing stars. You moan his name over and over again, until the two syllables become a tongue twister. He disentangles your tongue, using his own. All those years tying cherry stems in his mouth as a teenager really paid off. He starts making a come-hither gesture, simultaneously flirting with your lips. After your hand ceases, exclusively squeezing his base, right above his balls, Yangyang slows down, slipping his fingers away from your G-spot, up and over your clit, your orgasm weakening.

“Ugh,” you grumble.

“We have time,” Yangyang tells you, “to have sex.” He looks at you through his eyelashes, gradually lowering his head under your shirt, his shirt. After Monday, he wondered if you ever owned any shirts yourself, or if you donated all of them once you ‘discovered’ his closet. “Tell me you want it too.”

“I want you.”

He doesn’t know whether to clown you or flirt with you. The first option would make you laugh, but the second would get him laid. Luckily, you decide for him, shimming out of your jeans and panties, then you slide his pants down to his ankles. He wraps his hand around your throat, drawing you to his lips, and he unintentionally squeezes when you settle on the tip of his c.ock. As you ride him, your walls hug his d!ck nicely, giving it a nice tight feeling that he can’t help but moan at. You straighten your back to gain some height over him and slip your tongue in his mouth. His hands reach out to your ass, guiding your hips forward in waves. He starts breathing heavier and his grip gets stronger.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.”

Yangyang kisses you, pulling your words into his mouth, “So cum.”

“Fuck.”

He chases after your high, under the guise of helping you ride out this orgasm, getting his d!ck to twitch deeply inside you. When his hold gets too firm, you whine, suddenly over stimulated. Your nails dig into his bicep roughly, barely soothed by the t-shirt he still wears. He thrusts asynchronously with you before coming undone and dragging you into his chest. You feel warm and sweaty in this post-sex glow, your hand and head resting on his chest. He traces little hearts on your inner wrist, not wanting to let you go completely.

“You need to stop picking my underwear if you’re just going to destroy them,” you joke, kissing him on the cheek. “I have to double wash these thongs you know.”

“Can we –“ Yangyang swallows a lump in his throat. He feels like he is pulling you impossibly close, even though you are not moving away. “Can we go back to that thing you were saying earlier?”

“Hmm?”

“The,” he pauses, indecisive whether he actually wants to bring everything up right now. He ultimately decides for it. “Part with the ‘I love you’?” He knows that his voice sounds smaller than normal and that his eyes are shifting nervously at yours, but he wants to hear it again, wants the validation.

“Right,” you understand, nodding your head equally slowly. You straddle his lap again, and he immediately balances you by the waist, wanting to keep that impossibly close distance. “I’m – I’ve fallen –“ You swallow, looking away, but he needs you to look at him. Because if you can’t say it to his face, how does he know that you’re not just saying it out of obligation? Thankfully though, you see to be on the same wavelength, returning to his eyes, and his breath hitches, abs shaking in anticipation. You confidently give him the sentiment, “I love you.”

Yangyang tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, watching the way his fingers finish, stroking along our cheekbone. “I know,” he whispers coolly, leaning into your ear. “It’s hard not to love me,” he changes the subject, “I’m the best.” You scoff and push his chest, but he fastens an arm around you as equally fast, smiling too wide. He is a little sorry, for ruining the moment, but his laugh isn’t convincing at all. “I love you too.”

Sex, you think, feels infinitely better once the weight was lifted off your chest, once the spoonful of love was added. And the way Yangyang keeps kissing you, absolutely obsessed with holding your waist, tells you that spoonful is a misnomer, too small. The measurement for an entire ocean might be a better description. Still though, you would never call describe sex as love making, especially not to his face. At that point, you would be faced with an ‘oh, my god; that’s disgusting, man’ – not that you mind entirely, because the teasing smile he uses is so, so important to you, and sex feels just like that – the love part, not the disgusting thing. Although, sometimes he can be quite disgusting, yanno. Ah, he just makes you want to skip class and stay in bed beside him all day.

Except, both of you know how bad of an idea that is, with midterms are right around the corner.

Despite that, he spends the night at your apartment again, staying up until 3AM even though he has abnormal psych at 8 on Thursdays.

“I need a study break.”

You roll the cover of your design textbook towards your spiral notebook and toss the pile onto the floor, kicking the blankets off your feet. Yangyang barely spares you a glance, too absorbed in his case study. It is the last of five, and he only has the results, psychometrics, and summary statement left to write for this one before he is completely done for the week. Similarly, you have an exam on Joseon architecture later today and you are a third of a chapter away from catching up on reading, but honestly, fortresses get annoying to look at, especially when you have to compare militia structures against lower-class housing. So, you infiltrate Yangyang’s personal bubble, sliding an arm over his hips and your head into his lap.

“Does this mean I have you join you?” he teases, already putting away his pens. He pushes all his study materials by his feet, never leaning too far up, to keep your head in place. It gets even more comfortable when he relaxes again, resting across the pillows. You close your eyes, melting, when he massages your scalp, like he immediately knows where every knot or corner of tension are.

“I would really appreciate it, if you joined me.” You sigh. His touch is heavenly, and it makes you tighten your arm over his pelvis.

Eventually, Yangyang goes back to his homework, this time reclining in a way that lets you curl into his side. And you aren’t actually asleep, just mildly daydreaming with your eyes shut, thinking about literally anything (Yangyang) other than structures. When he raises a book midair, in front of his face, you move positions, sprawling across his chest, leg coming between his thighs. You (purposefully) annoyingly stick your head under his cheek, to ensure that you, at least, moderately block some of the passage.

Yangyang giggles. “Am I officially joining you now?” He puts his papers on your nightstand and wraps an arm around your shoulders, luring you to his lips. Your leg slithers above the waistband of his joggers, and he helps you straddle him again, sinking into the mattress to get a good view of the way you look in his oversize hood, in only his oversized hoodie. “You’re clingier.”

“Than what?” you ask innocently, rubbing his shirt fabric along his chest. You start pouting, as a response to his silence. Does he not want to cuddle? You shake your head. No, he does, given the way he pushes up the hoodie and yanks you further up his lap. “We cuddle the same amount.” You lower toward his ear, holding his neck in place, and whisper, “Do you not want to? Because I can leave.”

Before you can even think about getting off, he kisses you, sitting up. “Don’t go.” His hands come under your ass, squeezing as your arms circle around his neck. “It’s just –“ He bites his lip, suppressing a whine, which you can feel clog his throat. “You can’t sit on my lap like this. I’m getting hard.”

“Again?” you taunt. He slaps your butt, rather harshly, leaving a warm tingling sensation that he kneads away. You grind into his touch and kiss up his neck. “We can try the Pomodoro method.” You blow into his ear, shakily, as his hand presses particularly rougher. “I’ll set a timer for 25-minutes.” You look at him with chaste, despite the way you are purposefully making his blood rush. His fingers move to the edge of the hood, lifting it slightly. “Think we can have fun in just 25 minutes?”

“Mmmhmm,” he agrees early, nodding his head forward to kiss you. You don’t let him meet you though, not that you think he really noticed, what with being distracted by your very naked legs. He slowly sits up, all the way, and you feel his d!ck twitch against your thighs.

“Or do you think we won’t be able to finish?”

Yangyang throws you onto the bed and removes his shirt in one fell swoop. “Bet?”

“Missionary?” you ask, almost sticking your tongue out at him. “You’re getting more vanilla.”

Yanygyang gasps, then whacks your butt. “Take that back!”

You prop yourself on your elbows, eying all the naked parts of him up and down, from his low waisted briefs to his well-defined pecs to the rather cross sulk on his lip. “Make me.”

“Don’t have to.” He takes away your smirk, displaying it across his face. You tilt your head to the left, expression slacking blankly, but you catch on, feeling his fingers outline your sides. He slips his thumb between your lips, pushing it slowly until you basically give him a finger job, like a preview to the actual head he wants. “You’re already prepped.”

Your eyes flicker up, purely, as if he is about to ruin you for the first time. It’s his favorite part whenever you blow him – you looking into his eyes, taking every inch of him. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, dragging your lip down until he lets go, your lips smacking together. You bite your lip, suddenly feeling empty, even though neither of you have really done anything yet. “Are you going to fuck me then?” Your voice sounds so harmless, now lacking the bite as you mentally anticipate his d!ck to stretch you open right now. He shakes his head, no. “So what –“

Yangyang spreads your legs a little wider, strictly, darting in the direction of your main bullseye point. His touches remain light and teasing, not getting there yet, responding to all the little mannerisms that make your lower body so rhythmic. He rubs a finger, swirling the ends of his movements to get your hips riding his digits. You whimper breathily, voice cracking at such a high pitch. He sweeps your bottom lip, pressing his tongue softly, making you wish that he would fuck you already. It is insanely evil, for him to give you a preview of the intense foreplay without actually doing it, barely giving you the imagery of it all. You clutch his shoulder, to steady him for a constant kiss and to actually get on his slender fingers. But he never lets you. Instead, he pulls you by your ass, one-handed, forcing you to roll your hips on the silhouette of his d!ck. Fuck, how can you even feel his c.ock? His joggers are so thick. He maintains the stupid, inhumane taunts, kissing the air between you two, caressing everywhere along your hole. A few minutes pass without him changing the routine, so you reverse the positions, throwing him on your mattress and straddling his lap like a stripper. And with almost the same level of experience, or confidence (you hope it’s confidence), you seesaw over his d!ck. He swiftly locks your arms around his neck and his behind your lower back, palming your ass. You look into his eyes for a second, then kiss him roughly, smashing your lips on his.

“You’re. So. Eager. Today,” he says, muddied by elongated spit noises. His eyes are flittered closed as he smiles smugly, accepting your style of manhandling. Your embraces are light and rapid, doing everything in your power to prevent him from straying too far. But his abs get too shaky, too firm, the familiar build up washing over him, so he has to pull away. When he does, you try chasing him and he brushes your hair behind your ear, slowly stroking your jugular vein like ticking baby hairs. “I love you.”

You smile. “I love you too.” You peck his lips, now sitting sticky on his lap. He looks so pretty, eyes glazed and lips slightly parted. You just have to kiss him again.

Yangyang bends your back to the comforter, guiding you by the throat, simultaneously pushing his pants mid-thigh, c.ock bouncing more freely. It slaps your p.ussy, naturally twitching aroused. He is so close that when he pumps himself a few strokes, his knuckles rasp along your clit and you buck your hips for more touches. You feel his wet tip run along your slit, and you just know that his hand locks above his balls, right around his base, ready to push in. But you stop him.

“Let me ride you,” you pant, slowly opening your eyes.

He nods his head enthusiastically, and you pop off his head. You turn around, back facing him as you take off the hoodie, leaning down to graze your n!pples on the blanket.

Yangyang wails. “That’s not fair. I want to see.” He takes off his pants, to be as equally naked.

You redirect his attention back to your p.ussy, using your first two fingers to pinch your clitoral hood and gently tug it up and down, over his d!ck as you back into him. He lets out a loud moan at the sight; it takes everything in him to not thrust, listening to your command ordering him to wait. You brush your hair over your shoulder again and look at him behind your shoulder, sultry. Your mood changes are so sexy. His body moves automatically, hunching over your spine to litter you with kisses, his hand trailing behind his saliva. You take that palm and put it on your t!t as you grind his c.ock between your ass cheeks, sliding it to the most sensitive nerves of your p.ussy. He aids your building orgasm with two fingers, leaning his metacarpal inside of your thigh to rub circles specifically under your nub.

“Oh my god,” you exhale, walls throbbing in a vacuum of emptiness, needy.

You sit up and push him onto the pillows by his chest, then reach behind to grab his c.ock erect. His breath thunders, encouragingly. He waits for you to do something, scanning your bare back for every little love bite and mark. You slowly descend and use your knees to bounce, ass swirling between his thighs. Your hips oscillate from outward jumping to figure eights, to rocking sideways. And his favorite position seems to be when you take all of him, gyrating shallowly, letting only about an inch leave your p.ussy before you slam back down on him. You mimic his slaps, taking your hand off his inner thigh to grip your ass, dragging your nails up, leaving a tingling sensation. He rolls his eyes to the back of his head, recording the moment in his brain forever, then slaps your jiggling flesh several times. This position gets his big c.ock deep within your p.ussy, causing his balls to bump against your labia. Then he starts thrusting with you, pounding his hips up.

“Fuck, Fuck, Yanygang. Mmhm.”

He copies your expletives, adding some bad girl’s and other lewd nicknames, before slamming with some finality. You think that he is about to cum, but he withdraws, making you whine sharply. Yangyang flips you onto your back, immediately attacking your chest. His hands support you like a wired bra and shakes them, pushing the pads of his thumbs into your sternum so that your hardened n!pples remain level with his mouth. He licks one lightly, circling around the areola, then latches on, sucking with his tongue flattened under your skin. You arch your back to him, drawing him close. He repeats the action on the other, but longer, as he pinches and kneads your b.oob.

“Come on my d!ck again, you dirty little girl,” he orders, voice low and hoarse.

“Then stop pulling out,” you whisper, similarly breathless.

“Okay.”

You lean away from him, supported with your hands on his thighs, spinning your hips in circles and side to side. His hands squeeze your waist, jostling you to his chest brutally.

“Don’t do that,” he growls, teeth barring before he kisses you again, croaking the moan in your throat. He drags you close, fingers digging into esophagus so that his tongue and reach inside.

Your grip scratches on his triceps, pink lines haunting his skin. You keep bouncing up and down, until his chokehold drops. His mouth falls open, releasing strings of curses after gasps. He spanks you hard, twice, then grips your ass, jerking it savagely. You change the motion, grinding in tiny, little, miniscule circles. Your thighs shiver, your entire body following. He rotates his d!ck, thrusting asynchronously. And you claw through his hair, tugging the strands rougher and rougher as your abdomen keeps tightening.

“Almost, almost,” you whimper. “I’m so close.”

Yangyang pulls your bottom lip with his teeth. “Me too.”

You begin slowing down, no longer able to bounce up and down, choosing to rock back and forth. Then, everything stops for just a second, your walls compressing his springy c.ock until you break. All of his muscles grate against you, making you feel each ridge and movement. He follows your orgasm, feeling the way you milk every drop out of him, sucking his entire length balls deep. Your whine sounds like a treble, harmonizing with his lower moan. And you two spend another moment in cowgirl position, collecting your breaths, basically fused together.

“I love you,” Yangyang repeats. Ever since yesterday morning, he has been throwing out the sentiment spontaneously whenever he can: during sex, after sex, while cuddling, in the middle of study dates, behind his cup of coffee at the physics café in the afternoon when no one else is nearby. He follows up with another confession, “I want more than 25-minutes.” And it catches you off guard, considering his previous statement and the other, in the midst of sex, or love making, as some people would call it.

“The 25-minutes is just for right now,” you reassure him, gently patting his cheeks. “We have to study. I still have part of a chapter left to read.”

“Then say it back.”

You pull his face to yours, brushing your noses together. “I love you,” you tell him slowly, enunciating every syllable.

“So, spend the night at my place tomorrow,” he requests. His arms come behind your lower back, his eyes pouting like a lamb.

“Of course,” you answer impulsively, immediately going to kiss him after. Then you pull away, stopping him on the shoulders. “Wait. You have roommates. You have six roommates.”

“Four,” he corrects you – Sicheng graduated last year and moved in with Yuta. “We’ll be fine. Dejun is going with Kun to some conference; I don’t remember what. Hendery is staying at an AirBnB before the EDM festival this weekend. Lucas is …” Yangyang bites his cheek, trying to recall his roomates’ schedules. “I think he’s going on a date. I don’t know, but he bought roses and they’re sitting in the fridge. And Renjun … Renjun …” Yangyang swallows. He almost forgot about the tidbit that he learned at the Halloween party last weekend.

“Renjun what?” you ask, pecking him lightly and chastely.

“Won’t be there either.” Yangyang stops you. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

You sense the serious tone and straighten up, clasping your hands around his neck. “What’s up?” you prod slowly.

“Did you really like him?” he questions so softly that you almost do not hear him. “Renjun?” he clarifies after you stay quiet (even though it was just a few seconds).

“Yeah,” you answer quietly, not entirely sure if you even want him to hear you, the ambience settling into something melancholier. “But I love you.”

It seems like he ignores you.

“Why didn’t you get with him?”

“You don’t mean that.”

You shake your head, pulling back, your eyes painfully dry. All the fuzzy spots from your orgasm earlier connect the dots in your head, and you wonder what this is, if he doubts you, doesn’t trust you.

But he agrees, “You’re right. I just … I mean, why are you with me instead?”

“Instead?” you ask. You come back to him – it’s always him, and you hold his face, making him look at you. “I’m not with you instead of Renjun. There’s no compet!tion. I love you,” you enunciate the confession again to really emphasize it.

“But –“

It doesn’t seem to stick. And you sigh with your entire body, slumping away from him. “Does it really bother you that much?” You shift around, biting your lip while his soft c.ock scrambles inside you. He meets your eyes this time, scanning your pupils for more reassurance. “You are kind and smart and hard-working and insanely talented, and … and I love you.” He stays quiet, and you almost throttle him, needing a bit of affection too. “Say it back,” you beg, differently from minutes ago. You drop your forehead on his shoulder. “Please.”

Yangyang seems to understand and reciprocates, “I love you too.”

You pull yourself to face him and beam, mirroring his tender gummy smile. Then, you kiss him again, toppling him into the pillows. He rolls you over, causing you to giggle loudly as he peppers small bites along your cheeks, across your nose, and whispers the same confession on loop.

“I love you,” he ends, kissing you deeply. He comes up for air, inhaling sharply. “So, stay the night with me tomorrow – tonight. At my place.” He brushes your hair away from your face, to get a better look at the sweet glaze in your eyes. You think that you fall in love a little more, especially with all his domestic acts.

“Okay,” you agree.

“Okay,” he repeats. “Okay.” He nods his head, smiling wider, if possible, and kisses you over and over and over again.

Funny thing about Fridays: Yangyang doesn’t have a morning class, doesn’t have class at all actually; meanwhile, you have another art history class, at eight. The damn class is 90-minutes, so it is held three times a week. His lectures, you recall bitterly, go on for 2-3 hours each, granting him the three day weekend that every college student desires, pushing his classes to the first four business days of the week. That means he can stay up all night Thursday to Saturday, gaming for long hours into the night – not that you get to see it often, because when you do stop by the frat house, you spend time with anyone else. And usually, someone is visiting at the same time. You know, you write yourself into Xiaojun and Sicheng’s pool compet!tion, or watch moves with Lucas, but tonight (really morning, considering that it is 1 A.M.), you sit with Yangyang in his wide gaming chair, thumbing at The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (BotW) while he plays Overwatch with Haechan and Jeno. Thankfully, you don’t have any major assignments due later or any in-class presentations, so you can just curl up next to your boyfriend and pull an all-nighter, stealing snacks and drinks from his new mini-fridge so that you can avoid accidentally bumping into one of his roommates. Although, you Uber’ed to his place with a box of friend chicken and side dishes.

After the same gold lynel kills of Link for the third time in a row (the one in the Hebra region, outside the shrine, that has a sword you want), you lazily toss the controller onto his desk. Dying again and again gets frustrating, and you need to relieve the buzz. So, you turn to Yangyang, who looks to be in the middle of a campaign (is that what his levels are called?), and start asking him questions about his video game. Like, you know how sometimes people get so desperately horny that they ask their partner to explain Overwatch to them? Yeah, that is exactly how this feels, as Yangyang’s distracted voice describes his location and next move. And it is no wonder that he is a psych major – he is good at communication.

“What does that character do?” you whisper-ask, while the screen refreshes after he wins a battle.

“That’s an attacker.”

“A huh,” you nod along. You vaguely know what that means, based on the t!tle and all your years of the Club Penguin Card Jitsu game. “And that one?”

Yangyang removes his headset to around his neck and faces you, grinning sideways. “Are we sharing interests right now?” He pushes your legs apart, then straddles you over his thigh. His desk separates you and the game, pressing a fine line between the bones in your spinal cord. He turns the microphone down, muting himself from his friends. It is one thing for the two of you to be alone in the frat house and another for his close friends to physically hear you in his arms. “Or are you just needy for my attention?” Yangyang pulls one hand on your skin, rubbing small soothing circles. “That’s a sign of a relationship, you know.” He leans into your ear, whispering, “Like a date.”

You push him against the chair cushions, scrunching your nose at his laughter. “As if we haven’t done that already,” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes for emphasis.

“What?” he asks. “Go on a date?”

You nod your head. Neither of you really call these types of things dates, but they are. Sometimes you also hang out in public, alone, maybe holding hand or kissing, even though lately it seems like you stay inside and study and have sex all the time. Actually, there is a rave going on this weekend with one of your favorite DJs – one shared equally by the two of you. You have yet to invite Yangyang, but now seems like a good time.

“You don’t really care about my games,” he pouts, “Do you?”

“I’m sorry,” you agree, pouting with him. “I don’t speak nerd.”

Yangyang gasps, sitting up straighter. “It’s not a nerd thing! It’s a game of strategy!”

You shake your head, still not understanding. “I don’t speak virgin either.”

He slaps your ass. “We both know that isn’t true.”

“Am I supposed to be the virgin, in this scenario?”

“Are you becoming a born-again virgin?”

You shrug. “What would you do if I did?” You completely straddle his lap, scooting up his thighs until his d!ck sits at attention between your abdomens, and you whisper in his ear, “Would you leave me?” You bite his ear, softly licking the external side then blowing on it. “Would you ruin me? Take it away?”

“Virginity is a social construct,” he reminds you, growling. He slips his hands into your underwear. “I’ll ruin you right now.”

Except, another round on his game loads, and you find yourself leaning onto his shoulder opposite the microphone so that he can play, despite the insane wetness soaking your underwear right now. Then, two more games go by and you want his attention. He asked you to stay the night with him, and this doesn’t necessarily feel like that. So, you get off his lap, slithering down his legs onto the ground, onto your knees.

First, you untie his pants and spring his d!ck out. It’s not difficult, because (1) he has pyjama bottoms on, and (2) he manspreads like a motherfucker, giving you easy access. Then, the blow job starts. You lick your palm a couple times and angle his tip in your mouth, starting soft. His legs tense momentarily, making you consider stopping, but a hand appears, pushing you halfway down his length.

“You look so pretty down there, angel.”

He obviously did not actually look at you; you know because he usually makes eye contact when he is close to cumming, enjoying the way your eyes glass over. And because his keyboard continues clicking.

You continue on that way – keeping one hand squeezed halfway down his d!ck; hollowing your cheeks, adding extra suction all over his tip; flattening your tongue on the underside and rolling it like sushi at the very top. Despite his d!ck being fully erect in your mouth, his attention is less than enthusiastic, fingers working diligently on those numbers. It gives you an idea. You start bobbing your head faster, in tune with his typing, egged on by his compet!tiveness. And when his voice goes up an octave, your grip gets tighter, only slacking when you drop back down halfway. His groan echoes in your ear, sounding like he lost (whatever that means), so you pull off. He breathes a little bit harder after the smacking sound falls from your lips, preceding all the fluttering little kisses down his shaft. You hold his d!ck up and lick one stripe up between his balls, and he shouts at his friends:

“Alright! I’m done for the night. Play tomorrow. Bye!”

Yangyang pulls you to your feet, standing with you. He scans your eyes, pulling you closer and closer, debating whether to kiss you or not; he never really kisses you after you suck his d!ck, unless he eats you out too.

“Bed now,” he orders you in whispers, patting your butt a little too hard. You fall onto his queen-sized mattress stomach down, bouncing with his fluffy duvet. He kneels next to you, lifting his sweater off your thighs and spanking you again, three times. Each smack precedes a loud, high-pitched gasp. “You’re so needy.”

“Fuck,” you mutter at a particularly hard hit, his hand slipping to the wet p.ussy lips that need some friction. “Is that a bad thing?”

A door shuts loudly down the hall, making you two straighten up in attention. You prop yourself forward on your elbows, staring at the door. Yangyang watches your reaction, his ears alert and back facing the door. You hear Hendery walking up the stairs, something jangling with him, like keys or plates. A second pair of feet march with him, making you look at Yangyang. He shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head; he thought everyone was going to be gone this weekend, which does not apparently start on Fridays for his roommates.

“You’re going to need to be quiet,” he whispers. This is nothing new. The two of you constantly fuck, like rabbits, regardless if anyone can hear you, but Hendery is two rooms down and Yangyang is sliding two fingers knuckle deep until hitting the urethral sponge. His curling has your thighs tensing to the point of shaking. As he settles between your legs (not letting up on the pressure), he taps your sternum twice, telling you to keep still and quiet.

But you moan. It just comes out, not something that you can control. Especially when he nips all around your clit, lip biting at your skin and sucking small bruises. He keeps going like this, nodding his head for more vibrations everywhere except the most sensitive spot. Your breath gets more labored, breaking loudly.

“You need to be quieter,” he reminds you.

“Mmm, I can’t. You’ll have to move slower.”

Yangyang speeds up his fingers. “Not a chance.” He swipes his thumb across your clit once, then twice, then harder, giving it a little pinch. “Even if you cum, I’m still going.”

You whine, disagreeing. “Mmm mmm, you can’t say things like that. Fuck –“ He starts crawling over your body, peppering light touches along your stomach, around your b.oobs, above your collarbone. “- I want to cum.” You mewl, again frustrated, because he pulls his fingers out. He gestures you to shush, putting them in your mouth. With his hands occupied around your face and throat, his d!ck jostles, sliding between your p.ussy lips without actually entering. “Please,” you beg, “I want to cum so bad.”

“Ugh,” Yangyang moans in your ear, this time guiding himself inside your warm and aching hole. “I know,” he tells you. “I can feel it.” He rotates onto his side, propping up one of his legs to get into an easier position where he can pound you better. You grab one of the pillows, briefly arresting it with your nails acting like handcuffs before settling it under your oblique. The new angle puts Yangyang right back at your G-spot, his tip abusing the sponge harshly. “You’re milking my c.ock, huh? You’re – You want me so bad, huh?”

“Mm hmm, yeah,” you agree. His gaze fixates on the way your ass claps against his pelvis. He doesn’t even have to lead you anymore; you start backing up on him, motivated the rougher he tugs your hair. “Please, please,” you chant in whispers. He spreads your cheeks, obsessed with the disappearing act you pull, needing to see it more.

“Fuck,” he groans. He cups your b.oob off the mattress, supporting the other one with his arm, and pinches at your n!pple, swirling it around between his thumb and index finger. “Come on, pretty girl. You need to cum?” You nod your head fervently, face warming intensely. “So, cum on my c.ock. You can do it; come on.” He drops your chest for your neck, pushing your head into the blankets so he can kiss you again, incoherently vibrating broken praises on your lips.

“Yangyang, Yangyang, I’m – I’m – Harder, please. I’m so – Oh, fuck.”

He moans your name seconds after, spilling into your pulsating core, and relaxes, chest falling into an equilibria rhythm with yours. His c.ock softens, finishing its workout, so you swing your leg away from him and spin around, placing a hand on his chest. You stare at him for a little bit, like watching the sun set. He peaks an eye open, then closes it quickly, teasing you because he knows that you saw it.

“You’re going to get cross-eyed staring at me,” Yangyang jokes.

“Then let me get cross-eyed,” you counter, slithering an arm under his head like a neck cushion.

“That’s disgusting.”

You scoff, pulling on the ends of his hair. “You’re disgusting.”

He smacks your butt lightly. It is definitely his favorite punishment. “And you can call it a kink, fyi.” He opens his eyes in time to see you pout, and in return, he pecks your lips, pulling away just as fast.

You look over his shoulder at the time: 2 A.M. and bury your face in his chest. “We need to stop sleeping so late. My body can’t handle this.”

“My body can handle yours.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, even though he would not be ready to go again, at least for twenty minutes.

You chew on your lip a little bit, then repeat a post-sex tradition (well, it has essentially become a tradition this week). “Can I ask you a question?”

Yangyang kisses your shoulder, wrapping a leg around yours to keep you locked nearby. “Of course, anything.”

“Do you want to go to the rave with me, this weekend?”

“Like,” he processes, still hidden the crevice of your neck, “as in a date?” He lays across your arm, and you notice the glint in his eye. “Are you asking me out? I was supposed to do that!”

“Oh?” you return the tease. “We can just not go then, and I’ll wait for you to ask me out.” You start getting up, but he drags you back down, tugging specifically on your hand. He kisses you as a confirmation that yes, he wants to go; he wants nothing more than to go on a real date with you.

[jikooksgirl19]

My Soulmates 1

Genre:Soulmate AU, fluff,angst, eventual smut

Pairing: Idol Jimin x Lawyer Reader x Idol Jungkook

Warnings: some swearing (Y/N has a trash mouth sometimes)

A/N: I’m so excited to bring you my story. I hope you all enjoy this first chapter.

Please read the teaser and prologue first if you haven’t already.

*********************************************************************

October 7, 2018 4:36pm

The boys had been practicing since 8am that morning with limited breaks, and were tired and hungry. They were all going to dinner and begin making their way to the elevator, laughing and joking with each other. Namjoon was deep in thought when the doors of the elevator opened and a woman came out barreling right into the midst of the group. Her head was down, and she seemed absorbed in something on the iPad she held in her hands when she must have realized what she had done. Namjoon heard her gasp and reach out towards Jimin and Jungkook and thought she might be trying to steady herself as they were reaching out to her as well. He couldn’t believe it when they all began collapsing on the floor, the other boys trying to catch them. He noticed that the three were still grasping onto each other, and a red ring began to encircle their ring fingers and travel up their arms. The other boys were staring at this as well and they looked at each other shaking their heads. All of them mumbled the same thing

...”Oh Shit!”

You felt warm and cocooned for some reason. It was so cozy and you didn’t want to wake up. Wait, when did I go home? Your thoughts were hazy and you were trying to figure out where you were. You tried to stretch and found yourself bumping into something hard. As you started groping around you realized that this was not your pillow at all but felt like a chest. A mans chest. You have never moved so fast as you just did sitting yourself up. “What the hell...!” You look and see you are on a bed with not one but two boys cuddled up around you. Fear immediately sets in as you look around the room and see sleeping figures on another bed and couch.

“What the fuck...!” You said out loud quickly slapping both your hand over your mouth so as not to awaken the men in the room. You are in bed with, and surrounded by BTS. They are the worlds most famous boy band. They are the Nations Treasures. THEY ARE YOUR CLIENTS!!! Your mind explodes right then and there. You think to yourself ’What Tumblr, A03, Wattpad fanfic did I just wake up in.’

‘OH MY GOD IM IN A COMA!!!! That has to be it. There cannot be any other explanation. I’m in a coma and I transported into some sucky ass wannabe Hallmark Movie’.

All you can think of is that you have some sort of brain tumor and have fallen into a life altering, dream fugue-like state and all your teenage and young adult fantasies are blending together therefore you have conjured up some poly bias delusional weirdness in yor muddled brain. This isn’t real...this isn’t real... this isn’t real....... You pinch yourself and...oh shit that hurt. You struggle to get off the bed which isn’t easy by any means when two pairs of arms AND legs keep trying to pull you back down. You debate screaming bloody murder when you hear someone speak.

“You’re awake”. You turned your head and saw someone sitting up rubbing his eyes looking at you. You recognized the leader of said boy band Namjoon from the many many posters around BigHit.

“I am” your voice sounding more calm than you felt. “Can you tell me where I am and why I’m here with all of you like some weird slumber party?” You we’re holding on the the last shreds of professionalism that you could before screaming to the high heavens.

“You don’t remember finding your soulmates” he asked?

“Excuse me, my what now?” You cocked your head like you didn’t hear him right. “What on earth are you going on about? Soulmate, I don’t have a soulmate.”

“Soulmates” he corrected. By now some of the other members were starting to wake up.

“I AM in a COMA”. You were starting to babble incoherently in a mix of Korean and English with some well placed Spanish swear words your mother used to use when you were little and she was mad. You we’re starting to panic and began trying to climb off the bed all the while the two boys on your bed were snoozing away like nothing was happening. You managed to fall off of the bed and skittered backwards like a crab til your back hit the wall. You slapped your cheeks willing yourself to wake up.

Namjoon looked next to him and asked “Jin can you call Yuna? I think she may be able to help out with...” he looked at you realizing he didn’t know your name. Jin got up and walked towards the window to call someone.

“Y/N. Sona Y/N.” I...I..I’m a temporary lawyer working at BigHit on some of your international contracts. I’d like to say nice to meet you but maybe when there’s a less murdery vibe and location.” You were quickly getting your bearings together and began to gather your composure. “Now can you please tell me why I’m here being cuddled to death by those thing one and thing two over there” you point towards the bed. Several giggles and laughs were heard at this. You on the other hand were not sure what was so funny.

A deep voice in the corner answered this time. “Well thing one and two as you called them, or as we like to call them Jimin and Jungkook are your soulmates “ he said matter-of-factly like it was everyday normal. “I’m Taehyung, you can call me Tae or Tae-Tae to piss them off if you want.” His big boxy grin made him look like a mischievous child You couldn’t help but give him a wary smile. Someone else, you think it was J-Hope came towards you and thrust forward a hand. You cautiously took it and he helped you up from the floor. You began dusting off your skirt and straightening your blouse internally thanking the almighty upstairs that you were still clothed while eying all of them suspiciously. “I’m Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi if you want.”

Jin turned around after hanging up and offered you the only chair in the room. You quickly shuffled over sitting down and tried to ask again why you were here. In a bedroom, on a bed with your soulmates and their band mates all in the same room. “ Can someone please just tell me what happened?” Your voice staring to crack as you were close to tears. “This just feels too extrodinary to believe. You keep saying I have soulmates, as in plural. I didn’t even know that was possible.” It was then that you looked at your left hand and saw the red string tatoo. “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME....Did I have a stroke? How...what...why...” your words became so jumbled you weren’t making any sense and you were pretty sure a panic attack was just a moment away from tackling your neurotic ass into submission. Jin kneeled in front of you telling you to breathe. “ In through the nose....out through the mouth Y/N. You can do it just breathe in and out, in and out...that’s it, you got it, in...out.” You sat there holding his hands while Tae began rubbing your back in circles as they were trying their best to calm you down. Jin explained to you that he also has a soulmate named Yuna and she is ready to come talk to you about what being attached to an idol can be like.

Across the room you heard a groggy voice “Uugghhhh....get off me Jungkookah. Why are we in bed? What happened” could be heard from the bed you just left. Jimin was sitting up while shoving Jungkook off of him and staring around the room. Jungkook fell off the bed. He jumped up and was getting ready to tackle his hyung who knocked him down when his eyes landed on you. He was confused as to why a woman, a very pretty woman, but a woman nonetheless was sitting in their studio bedroom at BigHit, surrounded by four of his hyungs. “Um, hello” he said quietly making Jimin look in the same direction. Eyes got wide when he also said a quiet hello and then proceeded to ask Namjoon “ What’s going on. Who is she and why are we all in here. I thought we were going to dinner?”

“See, I’m not the only one confused” you exclaimed louder and much squeakier than you meant. “Apparently we are soulmates” you say while gesturing to the both of them and yourself. “Surprise “ you say throwing up jazz hands and beginning to laugh at the outrageous looks on both of their faces.

“Who, who is your soulmate?” They both say at the same time.

Namjoon looks at you knowing you are barely holding on at the moment and answers for you. “All three of you are soulmates”.

They stare at each other then at you then at the group and both start laughing. “Ok ok, good joke hyung, stop playing around. Did you knock us out and this is a mystery mission? “ “Are we on a run BTS episode we didn’t know was being filmed?” They took turns asking like this was a prank or something.

When they see no one other than you are deadly serious they stop and start to freak out as well. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?” They look at each other only to both shout out that they couldn’t be soulmates. Why is it just happening now after knowing each other all these years. Brothers yes, soulmates no. NOPE. NO WAY, WHAT THE FUCK.

You get up and walk over to them. You grab both of their left hands and show them the tattoos. You peek inside your shirt and confirm you have the soulmates date above your heart, and tell them to check their chests as well. You strangely feel calm being around the two of them and less like a victim of some K-Pop Serial Killer drama that you stepped into, and you realize they also both settle down while you’re holding onto them.

Namjoon gets up and begins to explain that though it’s rare, there are known cases of multiple soulmates. They are harder to find because all of the mates must be together for their souls to connect. Once they do connect though the bond is stronger than a normal soulmates bond and can come with difficulties due to the relationship aspect of it. Prejudice often follows a poly soulmate connection due to the narrow mindedness of society and can often be looked down on. He tells the three of you that you should tell management right away so they can have a plan in place. Fans aren’t always supportive of their bias’s soulmates, and Y/N having two of the most popular idols in Korea as hers are going to come with challenges. Especially with you being a foreigner.

You three look at each other and back at Namjoon, silently agreeing to these terms. He also suggests you three need time together alone to get to know about each other because you all three had different lives leading up to today, and it would be best to figure out where you all should go from here. Other people’s feelings and relationships are going to be affected by what has happened and you all needed to be prepared for any backlash.

“Ok, now that this is all settled can we please get some dinner?” You hear from the other bed where apparently Yoongi has been napping throughout all the mental breakdowns.

To be continued...

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