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longislandcharm · 7 months

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PARTIES: @longislandcharm & @vanoincidence TIME: Last week of August, early stages of the Blue Moon SUMMARY: Winter comes to Sly Slice with some issues with her abilities and she's not very nice to Van. But after a particularly scary moment for the medium she chills out and the two of them have a nice rest of the night. WARNINGS: Just some ghosty things.

She hadn't been sleeping too well lately. With the random voices coming in and out, Winter was left lying awake at night wondering if she’d finally snapped or if something in this town was messing with her. Either could have been plausible at this point. With the lack of sleep and the dull sounds of disembodied voices being enough to give her a headache, add her empty stomach to the mix and there was a recipe for disaster. That’s how she ended up at Sly Slice at ten pm, waiting on her pepperoni slice not so patiently.

It was mostly empty in the shop aside from Winter and the employee, something she was thankful for. She’d made it in before the drunk crowds leaving the bars could take over, the quiet of the place making it easier to stand the screeching woman in her ear. Who even cared about drapes at a time like this? Why did this woman insist on screaming about someone changing hers ten years ago? She sighed softly while trying to focus on other things, her eyes scanning the short menu above the counter for the twentieth time since she’d walked in.

“Hey! How long does it take to get a piece of pizza?” Her patience was definitely thin right now and she’d been there waiting for what felt like ages but was only about five minutes. If that. If she didn’t get food soon Winter was bound to lose her shit. Karens be damned, Winter would be the new name for unruly and unreasonable customers.

The night was slow, and the only reason that Van had offered to pick up a few night shifts after finally getting back on the day shift was because the tips were better, and if she was being honest, she desperately needed the money. The looming feeling of debt reigned over her and the thought at the back of her mind to put an ad out for a roommate was hard to ignore. She was running out of the money she’d been left, and it was only a matter of time before it bit her in the ass.

Though, just as Van was about to redirect her attention back to the game on her phone, a new customer walked in. This one wasn’t drunk, but looked mildly irritated, not that Van cared. She took the order and awkwardly began to organize fliers and pens at the register, avoiding eye contact with her. It was always more awkward when it was just one other person.

And then her voice cut through the silence and Van winced. So it was going to be like that? Really? The urge to tell the woman she didn’t have time for theatrics because she worked minimum wage hung in some liminal space between herself and the customer, but she decided to instead paint a smile on her features. “We’re down a cook right now, but don’t worry, you’ll get your slice.” Rocky wasn’t in the back tonight, and instead it was his friend Jett. Jett was trying out the whole cooking thing which Van could appreciate, but he wasn’t the best. “I’ll be right back.”

Before the customer could say another word, Van was flitting to the back window, peering inside to see Jett on his phone scrolling through tik tok. Maybe she should call Nora to help her. No, that was dumb. “Dude, I put in a ticket like, ten minutes ago. What are you doing?” The man looked up from his phone, long index finger jutting in the direction of the already made pizzas sitting under the warmer. “You didn’t think to let me know?” She rolled her eyes and grabbed the pizza cutter before cutting the pie and bringing it to the front warming station. “Tik tok is melting our brains.” She made sure to include herself in that before dealing out two slices, one on the house, that way the Karen in front of her didn’t decide to leave a bad review and get her in trouble. “For waiting so long.” It hadn’t been that long, but it might as well have been years, according to the annoyance that was visible from her company.

She rolled her eyes as the girl turned back toward the kitchen, arms crossing over her chest. There’s one thing that Mack had always told her and it was that ‘hanger’ was real and Winter got it bad when she hadn’t eaten. It was her own fault for not having anything that day, the medium was fully aware of that, but she couldn’t swat the bad mood away for the life of her. It wouldn’t leave until her stomach was full of cheesy goodness. “It's not really my fault that you’re down a cook.” The mumbled words left her lips before she could stop them, Henry scoffing next to her to let her know that he didn’t approve. She knew the ghost had every right to judge. It wasn’t this girl’s fault either but her mind was so far gone at this point that she was looking to lash out at anyone in her line of sight.

When the girl came back Winter was ready to say something else but Henry cleared his throat, throwing her a look of warning. As if he could do anything to her…at least not right now. But she stayed quiet as the employee dished out two slices. It was her turn to throw Henry a side glance as if telling him not to say a word about this. “It’s appreciated.” A sardonic smile was plastered on her lips before she grabbed the plate and turned to make her way to a table.

Only for the plate to fall to the ground as the image of a grisly looking man flashed in front of her, Winter jumping at the sight. He was gone almost as quickly as he appeared but she had gotten a good look at his gnarled flesh, the color draining from her face with the sight of it. All she could do was stand there and stare at the wall in front of her, trying her best to shake the visage of that last one while Henry was trying to get her attention. It took her a moment to regain her senses. She was slowly running her hands over her shirt to smooth any bunched up areas while taking a few deep breaths to compose herself when she turned back to the counter. “I’ll uh, I’ll clean that up. I’m sorry…could I bother you for another slice?”

Without waiting for an answer, she bent down to pick up what she had dropped as Henry kneeled down beside her. “What just happened?” Winter cut her eyes at him but she couldn’t answer, not with this girl standing on the other side of the counter and probably wondering what was going on with her. To be fair, she had no idea what was happening either so it wasn’t like she could explain. “Just uh, I lost my footing there.” She was saying it out loud for the employee but really just trying to get Henry to leave her be. He really could get annoying.

Van gave her best attempt at a smile to the retreating customer, but it fell almost immediately. The paper plate was falling to the ground and the slices of pizza were turned over, cheese plastering the ground with ooze and grease. Van’s gaze snapped up to try and meet the customer’s, but she was still turned away. Something about her body language told her that she was not alright, but was it really Van’s job to care? Especially because she’d been rude before! Maybe this was an act.

But then the customer was turning around, giving an apology to her instead of blaming Van. Her brows knit together in mild confusion as she looked down at the slices of pizza that were smushed. “Uh… yeah, sure. Yeah.” She turned back towards the pizza that was only missing two slices and put them onto another paper plate for the customer. Hopefully she’d appreciate the effort, but Van couldn’t be sure. She seemed agitated before, but now she seemed effectively freaked out.

The woman’s voice carried from where she knelt down next to the fallen pizza, up and over the countertop. She was no stranger to losing her footing, she did it all the time, so could she really blame her for making a mess of the shop floor? No, probably not. “Here are the other– uh, the two slices.” She pushed the paper plate to the front of the countertop before grabbing paper towels, a broom, and the swiffer. “I can get it, don’t worry about it.” She should have made the woman clean it up, especially for being as rude as she was, but Van could see that something had visibly changed in her demeanor, she almost looked scared. “Did you get any on you? Sauce, I mean…” She tried to get a good look at the front of her shirt for any splashes of red, “uh, we have a tide stick, I think, somewhere?”

“Kill her, kill them all, just like they killed me.” The voice overlapped with the employee’s as she presented the new plate, Winter's eyes widening just a little. She'd been hearing voices lately but none that were so...malicious. The grit to it, the absolute venom that laced each word, it was more terrifying than the image that had popped up in front of her. Where was it coming from? It couldn't be from this pizza shop. Something would have happened to someone in this place by now if it was, right? The medium looked out the window of the establishment in search of...something. There had to be something that was causing this because the alternative of it being in her head was much scarier than it being a physical entity.

Winter jumped when the employee was suddenly in front of her, a breath of frustration blown out while she tried to regulate her heartbeat. It felt like she was in her own personal scary movie with a jump scare around every corner and she didn't much appreciate it. Eyeing the cleaning supplies, she still placed the two slices on the plate that had fallen as she shook her head. “No, it was my fault. You shouldn't have to worry about it.” Truthfully, she just wanted something else to focus on. Maybe she could drown out whatever this was trying to get her attention if she was too busy cleaning up her mess.

“Oh...“ Looking down at her shirt, Winter bit down on her bottom lip. She didn't care about it that much, it could be replaced, but having to walk around looking like a mess wasn't ideal. ”I might...take you up on that offer for the tide pen though.“ It was on her jeans too, her favorite pair at that, but that couldn't be helped. There was too much near the bottom of them to try and wipe away. At least the shirt was what most people would be looking at. Sighing, she took a seat on the floor of the shop, ready to disappear into it. Instead, she set the plate by her before reaching out for the paper towels the other girl was holding. ”I wonder if this night could get any worse.“

There was something clearly wrong with the customer, but it wasn’t like Van was going to point it out, not by a long shot! The last thing she wanted to do was point out somebody else’s anxiety, especially when it was so apparent. She’d had her fair share of meltdowns (literally), so who was she to judge somebody else for theirs? Though, it seemed like she was holding it together much better than Van was ever capable of. She wasn’t sure what was wrong– if it was something she’d done, or if it was the act of dropping her pizza. Sure, that was embarrassing, especially after being kind of rude about it to begin with, but Van wasn’t sure what else could have triggered the far away look in the woman’s eye.

She was surprised that the customer didn’t take the free slices. Van twiddled her thumbs, suddenly feeling very small. Maybe the other girl was just in a bad mood, or maybe she had had a bad day. Maybe she wasn’t a Karen, and this was just one thing on top of a dozen other things that was making things worse. Van didn’t want to think negatively of the person in front of her, especially because how many times had she had this kind of thing happen with a stranger? “No, it’s okay, really.” She steeled her voice, opting for some form of authority in her cadence. “You should just take the free pizza! It probably won’t get bought anyway, and then I’ll have to take it home and I’ll be drowning in pizza.”

As the customer agreed that she could use the tide pen, she handed over the paper towels and retreated to her register. Underneath of it were a series of different drawers and she began opening each one, digging through for the aforementioned tide stick. “You’re getting free pizza now, or I guess a replacement, that’s pretty good, right?” She’d been taught how to self-regulate her emotions, even if it never worked. How to breathe in and out, how to focus– to eat sour candy when feeling overwhelmed. None of it worked these days, but maybe it would for the customer! “What’s your name?” She didn’t want to keep thinking about the girl across from her as the customer. It seemed disingenuous, even if she’d been annoyed at first.

When the other girl brought up the pizza again, Winter heard her stomach rumble with the hunger that she’d temporarily forgotten about. Even if she really wasn’t in the mood for food anymore she really needed to eat something. Though she did hate that the employee seemed to pity her at that moment. It was the last thing Winter wanted, someone feeling sorry for her, but she appreciated the free pizza nonetheless. “I will be sure to eat it, we wouldn’t want you drowning in pizza, now would we?” Pausing, her eyes went to the plate that was sitting on the counter, making a mental note to eat as soon as she’d cleaned up her mess. “Thank you…you didn’t have to do that.”

It was the smallest of mistakes, the medium saying thank you, but as soon as she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to do that Winter felt her cheeks start to flush even more than before. Her heart rate started to rise again as a slight panic rose within her but she wasn’t going to let this small slip up make the night even worse. If this person was fae, then so be it. She was already stuck. It just wasn’t like her to lose her wits about her, especially now that she knew a little more about what was going on with these ghosts. It was a true testament of how much this ghost had scared her.

She laughed at the other girl’s words, nodding her head to show her agreement while Winter started to clean up the pizza sauce and cheese from the floor of the restaurant. An age old question ran through her mind: Could free pizza solve everything? Probably. “You’re right, at least the whole day isn’t a wash.” And at least the voice had faded into the distance. The creepy disembodied words floating into her mind were slowly getting softer and softer as if whoever was saying them was moving away. It was a relief but it didn’t completely quell the fear it had caused already.

Picking up the used paper towels, the medium threw them into the trash along with the dirty pieces of pizza. “I’m Winter and I swear this doesn’t happen often. Me being a klutz, I mean.” She grabbed hand sanitizer from her purse and slathered it on, making a face down at her palms afterwards before she started to shake them dry. Maybe she could shake off the rest of this unease as well. “What’s your name? I don’t think I caught yours either.”

“There are worse ways to go, but it’s a total sensory nightmare to get pizza grease on your face and not be able to get it off.” She would know. Sure, it had only happened a few times, but still. Van bit the inside of her cheek as she watched the woman, not sure what else to say or do. She wasn’t good at comforting people. She didn’t know how to do it. People tried to comfort her, and all it ever did was make her queasy, so how was she supposed to support somebody else? She had no idea how to do it, not efficiently at least. Van shook her head as the woman pushed back on the kindness she was receiving. “People have done like, really nice things for me even when I felt like I didn’t deserve it! I can do that for people, too.” It was all about paying it forward, wasn’t it?

Van straightened up, beginning to look around the establishment. It was empty except for the two of them, as well as Jett in the back who was probably not paying attention to anything that was happening out in the dining area. Probably for the better. Van figured that the woman on the ground didn’t really need an audience for this kind of thing. More eyes meant more fear, and Van knew that better than anyone. “Yeah! Let’s go! Positivity!” Van did a version of jazz-hands she didn’t quite recognize before dropping her arms to her sides. “Sorry… uh…” She cleared her throat.

“I’m Van, but not like the car.” She pointed to the name tag she wore which had the essa part scribbled out in black sharpie to where you could barely see it, leaving only Van. “Winter is a cool name, and like, I’m usually falling all over the place too! I won’t blame you.” Things had changed quickly. Before, Van had been annoyed with the woman who she knew now as Winter, and now she felt a little bad. The woman still looked distraught, so Van wrung her hands together. “Do you want to take a seat? Some water? We have that, but we don’t have ice… the machine is broken, sorry.” She pulled out a chair for Winter before retreating to the register and grabbing an empty cup. “We have um.. an off brand of coca-cola, orange soda, and grape soda, too, if you want?”

“I honestly can not imagine that.” She couldn’t. No, Winter would cry if she ever had anything like that happen to her. Just the thought of pizza grease on her face alone made her feel gross. She shuddered as she imagined a wall of grease pouring down on both of them inside the restaurant and for a brief moment she no longer wanted to eat the pizza sitting on the counter. “Working here must be worse than I thought. I would like to apologize on behalf of…well, pizza grease I guess.” The medium looked up at the girl as she spoke of others being nice to her, the pang of guilt in her chest making it very clear that Winter knew she didn’t deserve the kindness that the employee was giving her. It was a little humiliating being pitied enough to get this treatment but it was also…endearing. After the attitude that she gave earlier, she never would have treated herself the way that this girl was. Instead of saying that, though, all she could muster was another pathetic phrase. “I was mean to you.” God, she felt so small.

If it had been any other night, any other person who most definitely wouldn’t be treating her with such kindness, Winter would have walked right out of that door when they did the jazz hands. She would have said something nasty to show how unamused she was, would have rolled her eyes and thought so little of the person standing behind the counter, but tonight was highly unusual in more ways than one. She laughed. A real, guttural laugh that not even she had expected. If this person was doing anything, she was taking her mind off of the ghost that had truly freaked her out and for that Winter definitely owed her kindness in return. “Positivity, indeed.” She did her own version of jazz hands, throwing a little hip action in there to boot, until the enthusiasm faded away to light chuckles. “Don’t apologize, at least you’re making my humiliation fun.”

Moving closer, she squinted at the name tag before shaking her head. “You’d think they’d at least give you a new one. Don’t you deserve that much for being on the front lines,Van not like the car?” Now she was really starting to feel bad about her earlier behavior. It was obvious this place didn’t care much about their employees, the didn’t need people like Winter walking in here and making their jobs even worse. She’d have to keep that in mind from now on, especially when she didn’t even know the person waiting on her. It was obvious Van was still doing her best to try and bring Winter’s mood up but it wasn’t needed. Sure, she was still a little shaky, but her composure was starting to come back to her. At least she hoped it was. “Hey, instead of all that, why don’t you just have a slice with me? I know you probably eat this stuff a lot but I think you deserve a break, right?” She took on an air of playfulness before she started to speak again, gesturing to her spotted shirt. “But also…I’m gonna need that tide pen.”

“It used to be worse, but Janice got fired for stealing money for babies, so it’s not that bad anymore!” She realized then, without context, Winter would have no idea what she was talking about. Van shook her head, “but don’t worry about that! It’s just pizza grease now.” And rats, the metal eating kind, but Van decided to not tell Winter about that. She already looked afraid, and the last thing Van wanted to do was make it worse. Van’s brows pulled together at Winter’s comment. She shrugged. “A lot of people are mean to me. I learned how to deal with it. Besides, you’re not being mean now.” Even if that was because something had happened, Van had to keep in mind that she didn’t know what other people were going through. What was the point in having an attitude with somebody who was clearly distraught? She would want to be treated with kindness, too, even if she didn’t feel like she deserved it.

Van raised her hands in defense, a laugh of her own bubbling in her chest. She’d been so tired for so long, she forgot what it felt like to deal with somebody else’s insecurities… how it could be consuming, how she could relate everything back to her. But this was different, she thought. Winter had been mean to her, but now she wasn’t. Usually it was a friend she was comforting. “I humiliate myself all the time. Like, a lot. I don’t think you’re humiliating right now.” She said it simply, as if it made the most sense in the world. “You could be covered in more grease! But you’re not.”

With a sigh, Van nodded. “They’re fifteen dollars to replace, and like, it’s just not worth it to me. Even if sometimes Jett calls me the wrong name.” She rolled her eyes. That was a story for another time, she didn’t want to bother Winter with the details. “Hm…?” Van was caught off guard by Winter’s offer. She looked behind her towards the pies sitting on the heating rack, then back to the customer. “I… sure, I can do that.” She gave the woman a tight lipped smile. She was in a place of comfort, being at Sly Slice. This was her domain. She knew it well, like the back of her hand, and in a way, she felt in charge of the situation, even if Winter had led the charge by being incredibly rude. It occurred to her that she could tell her no, that she didn’t need to placate the woman who’d been mean to her, but she wasn’t being mean now, and Van really could identify with the way she’d reacted. “Oh! Shit, yeah, the tide pen.” She had already grabbed it, so she held it out for Winter to take with a meek smile. “I hope it works. I mean, it should, but if it doesn’t, I think I heard something about baking soda working…?”

“Stealing money for babies?” Oh, she was eventually going to have to embrace this town and the many many quirks it came with. Being surprised by at least seventy percent of what people said to her was getting old and ironically not surprising at all. “What does that mean, exactly?” She nodded, looking down at the pizza on the counter and finally picking up one of the slices to take a bite. It was cold already, her fault for taking so long, but to her it tasted like heaven. This is what happened when Winter didn’t eat all day. Setting the slice down, she grabbed another paper towel from the roll and wiped her hands, suddenly conscious of the grease. “Pizza grease and cranky customers. Should put up a sign that lets people know there’s a charge for each mean comment that is sad…and the charge is pizza grease on their face. That’ll get them to shut up. It would have worked on me.”

She eyed Van as the other girl spoke, finding the assurance refreshing. Winter was a confident person on most days, at least she proudly wore that badge in public, but she was always very concerned with that confidence slipping. It was exhausting to keep up that front, especially back home and in L.A. where just about everybody wanted to give off that vibe, but she was finding in Wicked’s Rest that most people didn’t care about stuff like that. Appearances weren’t always the most important thing, the connections she had forged lately having been done when she was the most vulnerable…something she hated being. And there was someone standing in front of her who was willingly admitting she was a bit of a mess and that was okay. It was something to think about.

“It’s ridiculous that they make you pay for your own uniform. It might not be worth it to replace but they should at least get your name right, that’s a little disrespectful.” Maybe later Winter could help do something about that but that was a problem for another time. Right now she couldn’t scare a mouse.

She took the tide pen with a smile before she started to work on the few spots on her shirt. “I’m not really that worried about permanently fixing it. It’s more of the appearance before I can get back to my hotel.” Even after the small realization just moments ago, she was still worried about something so miniscule. Well, she couldn’t change overnight, right? As she was rubbing one of the spots another voice started to slip in but it didn’t belong to the ghost from before, that was for sure. No, it sounded like…Henry. Looking up from her shirt, Winter let her eyes scan the room and realized he wasn’t in her line of sight. That didn’t happen, not since the accidental ritual. She couldn’t worry about it now though, not with Van and her engaged in conversation. At least she could still hear him. “Uh, anyway, it looks like it’s working a little bit. At least it’s not as noticeable. I give up for now, let's eat.”

“Yeah, for babies.” Van would steal money for real babies, but the ones that Janice had been obsessed with and threw her career away at the pizzeria for had been made out of plastic, or some other kind of non-flesh thing. “But they weren’t real. They were fake, like dolls. Sonny Angels.” She couldn’t imagine why anyone would be driven to theft over those, but she couldn’t really understand most things that Janice did to begin with. As she recounted her story, she realized she was becoming lost in thought. She blinked and looked over at Winter. “But that’s like, ancient history.” Van watched as Winter took a bite of her pizza. It looked a little stiff, and Van had half a mind to ask if she wanted it warmed up, but figured it was too late for that and she should have asked before. At Winter’s comment, Van nodded, “that sounds like a good idea. Maybe you should do our marketing.” Rocky would never let that happen, but Van could dream. She did most of the marketing on her own.

Van shrugged. “I think most places charge you for your own uniform?” She wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but she figured it was. How else would a company make money off of its employees? “At least I get as much free pizza as I want.” She was out pizza-d and had been for some time, but at least she didn’t need to spend as much money on food as other people. “Even if it’s only four different kinds.” She still made ham pizza for Nora and could probably make various other kinds for herself, but that took effort she didn’t have time for.

“Ohhh….” Van hadn’t even asked if Winter was from Wicked’s Rest or not. She wouldn’t have known anyway, the town not being that small as everyone joked. “Hotels are cool. I bet you can have them do your laundry, for like, money. Then the stain might come out.” She knew nobody would point out the stain or even notice it, but whatever eased Winter’s anxiety about her appearance was probably for the better. Van sat across from Winter now, her own slice of pizza in front of her. She picked it up and took a bite, the cold cheese sticking to the roof of her mouth slightly. She swallowed it down and cleared her throat. “Sorry I thought you were a Karen. You’re not even that bad.”

“Oh! Okay, that makes more sense…kind of.” Yea, she definitely had to get more used to this place. “I don’t understand why anyone would steal money for that but hey, if it makes it better because she’s not here that’s all that matters, right?” Winter took her plate over to a table where she sat down, having left the tide pen on the counter for Van to get later. The one bite she’d had sent her stomach into overdrive with the rumbles, clearly indicating that the second free slice from earlier had been a very good idea. “I’m really good at marketing, actually. I’ve been taught a few things over the years.” With the television show having been in her life for such a long time it was only natural that Winter had picked up a few skills from the behind the scenes as well.

“They do?” Jesus, working a regular job sounded worse and worse by the second. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re working for them, they should buy your uniform.” It was clear that Winter had no clue about working for a retail or food establishment, she’d never had to. She was essentially a nepo baby who had taken over her mother’s old empire. The differences between the two of them were so glaringly obvious at that moment but it was nice that they could still enjoy something as simple as a pizza together. “I doubt that. I don’t think this hotel offers laundry service, they’re not that upscale from what I can tell.” The apology took her by surprise. Not only did this girl just give her more relief for that thank you that was given earlier but she was making Winter feel bad once again for treating her so poorly earlier that night. She laughed though, mostly at the last line, and shook her head. “No, I’m sorry for acting like one.” She sat for a moment, thinking about how badly this night could have gone had Van not shown her the kindness that Winter hadn’t deserved. She could have still been a shaking leaf on the floor of a pizza shop with no food, lost to the imagery of the ghost who’d scared the hell out of her. Or she could have just been an angry girl with pizza sauce dripping down her front storming out of the shop to find something else late at night. Either way, she was grateful for the girl sitting across from her. “You’re not that bad either, Van.”

#Threads #Thread: Van #Slice N Cry

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lauterishotter · 3 months

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//ooc: tldr i made a little writing that kinda like, explains further a hc i have?

i think that solomon has an alcoholic addiction, and since addictions can be hereditary, i think steph would also have a big drinking problem too

but, yk imma deep dive into her first drink

tw: alcohol, drinking, being drunk all in all

—————————————————————————

[How old is the age people start drinking? Most people would say 21. If you were rebellious, maybe 18-19. But Stephanie Lauter’s first ever experience with alcohol was at the sweet age of 16.]

[At 16, what keeps most people busy is school work, work-work, and a lot of work in general. Steph did just that. Teachers used to say she’s diligent. Classmates called her fun. What they didn’t know was that just over a simple weekend, about everything changed.]

[Of course Steph knew her father had an alcohol problem. It’s one of the many traits her mother tried to help him rid. It did work. Only for a little bit, up until they lost her. Solomon fell back into his old habits hard and was often a mess. Underneath his remarkably clean public image was an alcoholic father.]

[Well, can you even call him a father if the one person who took care of his kid was a maid?]

[One evening on a cold winter’s day, Steph was extremely down. Something about the weather, her emotions, and schoolwork had just been too much. Like any reasonable person, instead of asking for help, she immediately looked for a distraction. Sure, being on her phone worked but.. it’s not quite enough.]

[Wandering around her big house was certainly a treat. Her dad is out for more campaign rallies and good PR, which leaves Steph all to herself. Least, she should be. She wandered around both floors, checking to see if any of the housekeepers were there. She then realized that he was going to use the staff as another PR stunt.]

[Perfect.]

[Rushing to her dad’s office, Steph decides to do what her Solomon said she does best. Ruin absolutely everything. Spinning is his office chair, she sweeps everything cluttered on the desk onto the floor with her arm. She enacts her usual routine when her dad’s away from home: Find a pen, a few pieces of paper, scribble a bunch of shit all over it, and plaster the papers all over the inside of his office.]

[There was already a nice pen on his desk she missed to sweep off, so the girl quickly snatched that as she checked the drawers. Few legal documents here and there, a checkbook, random belongings. Steph finally found a large notepad in the very bottom drawer. Taking the notepad out, a slim key fell out between some pages. Must’ve been hidden there.]

[Grabbing the key, Steph stared at it. There’s not a lot of places that her dad uses a key for, let alone hide it She takes the key, slipping the notepad back in as she looked around to find a lock.]

[In the house, Solomon’s office was simple. His desk was towards the back, right in front of a middle. The left side of the room held a bookshelf while the right side had a cabinet wall. And damn, were there a lot of them.]

[Steph snooped around the desk, but to no avail. Of course the girl knew what she was doing was wrong. But did she care? Not one bit. If he won’t properly take care and pay any attention to her, why should she follow? The only thing that would happen is he’d ignore her more.]

[Walking to the wall cabinets, she opened up a few bottom ones, before hitting one that was locked. Checking the keyhole, the girl found that the key perfectly fit. When Steph inserted the key and opened the lock, the few things inside the locked cabinet shocked her.]

[A half drunken bottle of whiskey and 3 glasses, all neatly together on one shelf. Steph’s not surprised by the bottle, he drank ever since she was born. But 3 glasses? Who the fuck was he inviting to drink with him? Nonetheless, she took the whiskey and one glass, sitting on his chair.]

[The idea of drinking always intrigued Stephanie. After all, if her dad and Max can drink like nothing, why can’t she? Although with Max, by the end of it, he’s passed out on the floor a few hours later. Steph simply took off the cork with one hand and poured the glass half full with the other. With her eyes closed and the door locked, she downed the whiskey, drinking it quick before putting the glass down.]

“Agh- oh shit, oh fuck!”

[The taste of the whiskey was virtually nothing, as a burning sensation went down her throat. She checked the bottle to read the label.]

“40% ABV? A- agh, cedar wood flavor? Jesus, this is.. a lot.”

[Continuining to cough after she drank it, Steph stopped and took one more look at the bottle. The feeling of the whiskey down her throat, and whatever was in it, made her want more. It’s gross, she knows she shouldn’t. She wouldn’t.]

[/Right?/]

[She grabbed the bottle again, and poured even more into her glass. She kept on drinking and drinking, even using the two other glasses in the cabinet. The more Steph drank, the more she craved it. It had her on such a high, but at what cost?]

[It was now fully empty. She shook the bottle upside down before twisting the cap back on and putting all the glasses back in his cabinet. Her head is aching, and her body feels like jelly. Everything feels so, /so/ fucking weird.]

[Steph waddled out of her dad’s office, stumbling over the chair and almost tripping on the doorway. The floor was cold, she can feel it in her socks. The air was warmer outside than in the office, and she wandered out into the hallway. Looking up at the stairs, she shakily got up each step.]

[Each time she lifted her foot, it felt like a weight was attached onto each leg. Pulling herself up was difficult, especially with the hazy feeling that Steph was in. She got to room, and collapsed at the foot her bed.]

“/Fuck…/“

[Stephanie Lauter was on the floor, her head about to float away somewhere and her body like jelly. This feeling was so- so weird. This, alongside her atrocious hangover was a sign that she should’ve stopped. Well, would’ve stopped.]

[But she couldn’t stop herself after that.]

#hatchetfield rp #hatchetblr

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heronwritingx · 5 months

Text

chapter 7 snippet

whoops i brought this back, pls enjoy.

Heather shoved open the door to the small study room in the school library, where Courtney was waiting for her. She was tapping away furiously at her laptop, editing hers and Heather’s speeches repeatedly to the point Heather was sure she was going to lose her marbles. Courtney was so hyper focused Heather doubted she even noticed her walk in, so she knew she had to make a bit more of a scene.

They had hardly spoken in a week and a half, and their first debate as a pair was coming quickly. Heather either ignored Courtney’s requests and demands to meet to work on their speeches, or she had an excuse for why she couldn’t meet her. Courtney couldn’t work out why, she assumed Heather didn’t remember the night of the party and was choosing to block the memory herself.

“You called me here and you’re just going to ignore me?” Heather snapped.

“Haven’t you been doing that all week?” Courtney retorted, not missing a beat.

She dropped the lid of her laptop and glared at the taller girl, who shot an equally as harsh glare back at her. Heather huffed and took a seat across from her, pushing it back so it would be difficult to complete any work at the desk and crossing her legs. Courtney watched as she pulled her phone from her bag and tapped away, clearly more focused on that then Courtney.

They sat in silence for over five minutes, Heather texting away with a slight smile on her lips while Courtney tapped away writing their speeches. Each and every little noise that escaped the girl in front of her lips pissed Courtney off. The slight huffs, the short giggles, it was as if she was doing it on purpose!

“Are you here to help or are you just going to sit there?” Courtney questioned.

“You haven’t told me what we’re even doing here,” Heather rolled her eyes, “Don’t get all psycho Courtney on me.”

“I’m writing your speech! I have no idea how you were ever beating me, did you do a single thing?!” Courtney snapped back, raising her voice.

“Not really,” Heather glanced at her nails, this time purposefully trying to frustrate the girl.

Courtney seethed through her teeth but knew she was baiting for a reaction, Heather enjoyed getting a rise out of her. Heather turned her attention back to her phone though now Courtney was regretting ever forcing her to come to the room to help. She should’ve known she wouldn’t help, Heather was truly going to try to win by riding her popularity and the fear she put in people.

“You’re going to read this before Friday, right?” Courtney questioned.

“Obviously,” her even stronger eye roll and sarcastic tone made Courtney fume but she held her tongue.

Courtney begrudgingly had to put her trust in Heather, sending the speech to her via email and contact between them minimal until the first speech and debate on Friday.

Heather was purposefully ignoring her, Courtney knew that much. She didn’t know why, especially after she graciously took care of her when she was far too drunk to even walk. It was frustrating Courtney so much, yet it wasn’t just anger she felt. There was a sinking feeling, something she could understand whenever she checked to see if Heather had responded and she hadn’t. Of course the girl also made sure Courtney could see she’d read her message and that only made it sting more. Courtney was sure, positive even that Heather didn’t remember her actions on the night of the party and Courtney wasn’t going to mention their almost kiss. Why was it still plaguing her so much anyway? It was obvious it meant nothing, it was just another way for Heather to mess with her.

She sighed loudly as she stood backstage, her hands trembling just the slightest as she tried to calm her nerves. This was so important to her, she had to win or else…

“Stop looking like you’re about to cry.” Heather said with a slight sneer, the speech Courtney wrote was written on palm cards in a sparkly pen.

“I’m not!” Courtney snapped back.

#total drama #heathney #tdi #total drama world tour #total drama island #td heather #td courtney

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thesquidkid · 2 years

Text

feels like we're going home

A sort of but not really coda to 4x01. I have written many fics about the meaning of home, and I will write many more 😂

Welcome to another introspection on Michael and home (except this time it's canon, they are living together!)

There are mentions of canon child abuse in this fic, so please beware. Also this was written in a single sitting, at midnight, so uhm, please ignore any typos? I am just so excited to get them back ❤️ (Read it on A03)

Home.

Michael stared at the piece of paper in front of him, gripping the pen tight. He rubbed his left hand on his jeans, trying to dry off the sweat, with no success. His stomach felt twisted in a knot, his chest tight. His right leg was bouncing up and down rapidly.

He was nervous. Scared. All because of a simple word.

Home.

He knew what to write. Had memorised Alex’s address before they even got back together. When Alex had gone missing. He tried not to think of those days, where he didn’t know if he’d ever get to see Alex again. But seeing the word ‘Home’ written in front of him, he couldn’t help but think about everything that word meant. Every bad memory it carried.

Home.

For the past decade, whenever he had to specify his home address, Michael would put down Sanders Auto. It was the place he was most likely to be found, unless he was working on Foster’s ranch. But even then, it was simply an address, a place to lay low, to rest. It was the closest Michael had known of a home, and yet.

Home.

The keys in his jeans pocket felt heavier than usual, the metaphor they represented clearer than ever. He placed his hand over them, feeling the shape of the little alien keyring. And despite himself, he smiled, for a short moment, before the nerves got the better of him. He took a deep breath, and focused his attention back on the paper in front of him.

Home.

All he had to do was write down an address. Why was it so hard? He exhaled sharply and shook his head, before placing the pen on the table and leaning back on his chair, looking at the ceiling.

All he had to do was not be a coward. He knew, logically, that Alex would always let Michael come home, even if they had a fight, even if Michael himself didn’t think he deserved it. Because Alex had always been the best part of him.

All he had to do was grab that pen, write down Alex’s address – his address – and it would be over. Except Michael couldn’t help but think about all the other times he had written down a home address, especially those he hadn’t built himself.

Every foster home he’d been in, he’d broken something. Had gotten something stolen. Had been forced to move out within a night. Had gotten kicked out. Every time someone who was supposed to love him, to protect him, failed.

Home.

What did that word mean, exactly? Home, for the longest time, had been something he’d dreamt of, looking at the stars in the sky. It had been his escape, when things got bad. He’d dream of his family, of home. But back then, home was an idea, a planet far far away that he’d probably never see again.

He looked around him, and even if he wasn’t home – in the physical sense, the house he currently lived in – he felt home. He was sitting at a table in the corner of the Wild Pony, during closing time. Maria was somewhere in the back, doing inventory, and she had let him stay, while he pondered about this particular piece of paper.

Home.

He wasn’t at the bar as often as he once had been. He still went there at least once a week, but it was mostly for various repairs, or to hang out with his friends. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten drunk – and not in the way he used to.

But this bar wasn’t home. Sure, he had passed out there a few times, had hooked up many times in the bathrooms or in the back rooms, but that doesn’t make a place a home.

It’s the people. The people who Michael considered family. His siblings – with whom he was closer than ever. His boyfriend, with whom he was entering this new chapter of his life. And all his friends, the ones he talked to, about deep existential stuff. The ones who knew the darkest secrets of his life, and who didn’t think less of him for them.

Home.

Maybe, all along, he had been looking in the wrong places. Instead of looking up to the sky, he should’ve listened to Max, that home was in Roswell after all.

However, that wouldn’t be fair to his past self. To the kid who wanted nothing more than to have his mother hold him. To the adult who only caught a glimpse of who she was, before losing her forever. To the kid who had given up on family, on love, on home. To the adult who was finally letting his walls down, building his own home.

Home.

He was interrupted in his thoughts by a bottle of beer being slammed on the table, followed by a gruff as Sanders sat on the chair in front of him.

Michael raised his eyebrow at him. “Anything I can do for you old man?” Even though his voice carried a hint of sarcasm, they both knew that Michael would probably drop everything to help him.

Which was probably the sad reality of it all. Home wasn’t based on how useful you were. It wasn’t something you had to earn. Michael was trying to understand that. But some things were hard to unlearn, especially when they had been literally beaten into you.

“Maybe you can stop staring at this piece of paper, and get back to your job? The one I pay you for?”

Michael snickered. “Sorry, you pay me?” He chuckled at the dark look Sanders tried to give him.

“Look,” he continued, “I need to fill in the taxes form. I’ll get back to the junkyard afterwards.”

“Aww look at him”, Sanders laughed, “paying taxes and all. What a growth.”

“Fuck off,” Michael blushed, ducking his head. Living with Alex meant that he wanted to do things right. Wanted to be a responsible adult and all the shit that came with. And that included taxes.

“You didn’t drive all the way just to get me to work did you?” Michael tried to hide the concern in his voice, but he didn’t quite succeed. It was no secret that Sanders was old and half blind, and that Michael thought he shouldn’t be driving. But as always, Sanders only did as he pleased.

“Nah,” he drank a sip of his beer, turning his head to the bar counter, where Maria was drying glasses, her phone stuck between her shoulder and her ear, turned away from them.

“Your lovely bartender asked me to check on you.”

Michael huffed. “Well, you have now. I’m fine. Go back to the junkyard.” He was already all over the place with the damn piece of paper, he didn’t need people worrying over him.

But then, he remembered what he and Alex were trying to do this time round. Trusting each other, communicating, talking when things weren’t good. He took a deep breath, about to apologise to Sanders, who beat him to it.

“Kid.” The old man simply said, in that tone he used to get Michael out of his own head.

That word was like magic. All Sanders had to do was say it, and lean back. And Michael would start talking. Ever since Michael found out about his mother, and who she had been to Walt, a bond had formed between the two.

“I’m gonna screw it up.” He didn’t have to say what exactly he would screw up, Sanders had connected the dots.

Home.

“Yeah, you are.”

Michael looked up surprised, expecting a different kind of speech. One that didn’t confirm his doubts.

“What did you expect? That I tell you you’re gonna live a happy life with no mistakes? We both know that ain’t true,” Sanders continued. Michael nodded, he did indeed know that.

“So, you’re gonna mess up. And that boy of yours is also gonna mess up.”

Michael snorted, as if Alex could ever mess up.

Then, it dawned on him. Alex probably didn’t think Michael would ever mess up terribly, just like he did about Alex. And that was the thing about them, wasn’t it? They doubted themselves, but never the other. Nothing was stronger than the love they had for one other, and the faith they put in each other.

That made Michael smile, and some of the weight on his chest went away.

Sanders continued, seemingly unaware of the realisation that Michael had come to. “What matters is that you two have each other. That no matter how badly you fuck up, you try again, and you try harder. You do better each time, and eventually you’ll get it right.”

Michael nodded. He was willing to try, to build this home with Alex. Because it was all worth it. Because Alex was worth everything.

“‘Sides, you gotta stop thinking so badly of yourself kid. You are worth what Alex is giving you. You do deserve a home. No matter what you keep telling yourself. You ain’t bad.”

And with that Sanders stood up, leaving Michael with a nod.

He was trying to do better. Not just by Alex, but by everyone he was close to. He was drinking a lot less, he wasn’t getting into stupid, pointless bar fights. He took care of himself, and of the people he cared about.

He took a deep breath, and grabbed the pen, writing down what he had always dreamt of writing. Home address. Not just the place he lived in, but the place he belonged in.

As he filled in the rest of the form, his eyes lingered on the box for spouses. He spinned the pen in his fingers, a soft smile drawing itself on his face.

One day, he thought happily. One day, that box would be filled.

He finished the glass in front of him, folded the form and placed it in his pocket, and went to say goodbye to Maria. Then, he got into his truck, and drove towards the town hall, dropping off the form for his taxes. That registered him as living with Alex. That registered his home.

He drove back home, and used his keys to open the door. Alex wasn’t home yet, but that didn’t matter. Because he would be, eventually. He will always come home to Michael. They both will.

While he waited for Alex to get back, Michael started on dinner – some leftover vegetables and chicken that he mixed into a pie. Then, as it was still too early to put the oven on, he went into the bathroom and started a batch of laundry.

And that’s how Alex found him, when he came home from Deep Sky, hanging his shirts and underwear on a string, to dry in the sun.

—

At first, Alex didn’t see Michael anywhere. But his key was on the living room table, which meant he was here somewhere. Ever since that first fight they had, when Michael moved in, he didn’t go anywhere without his keys. It was a metaphor. When the keys were home, so was he.

Alex didn’t have to look for long, it was like he always knew where Michael was. Like a compass, pointing at its north. Michael was Alex’s magnetic pole. They attract each other, in ways that cannot be put simply into words. In ways that they themselves did not always understand.

“You’re home.” Michael said, with a smile bright enough to light up a room, or simply light up Alex’s world.

Home.

Alex would never get tired of hearing that word, especially not coming from Michael. He had dreamt of home since he was a child, building his ideal version of Roswell with his mom. Now, he gets to build the real thing. With Michael.

He walked over to Michael, and wrapped his arms around his waist, placing his face in the crook of his neck.

“I love coming home to you.”

“Me too,” Michael whispered back.

—

Home: the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.

Later in the week, Michael found a dictionary in Alex’s bookshelf– which was now his. He opened it to the letter H, and stared at the definition he found for home.

Something didn’t feel right. He sat on the couch, reading it over and over, not quite putting his finger on it. Until his phone buzzed in his pocket, revealing a message from Alex.

“I’ll be home in thirty. Love you.”

With a smile, he went to grab a pen from the kitchen, and sat back on the couch. He scribbled over the definition, before placing the book on the living room table for Alex to see when he got home.

Home: what Alex and Michael are building together.

#first fic of season 4 #pretty happy with it too #and so excited to have them back #michael guerin #alex manes #malex #malex fic #roswell new mexico #rnm fic #thesquidkid writes

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killerandhealerqueen · 2 years

Note

Hi! How about another 5+1? Five times when Chen Yuzhi was kissed on the lips against his will and once when he was asked for permission. Of course, after the kiss, they received a blow to the jaw, but some were smarter and tied up Yuzhi so that he resisted less. But it didn't help them, because the doctor has a very angry guy-a policeman😈

Poor Chen Yuzhi...don't worry baby, Jiang Yuelou will kiss it better (literally)

First Time

The first time Chen Yuzhi is kissed without his consent is the night Chief Liu’s servant comes to get him and asks him to treat Chief Liu’s wife

As he’s leaving, Chief Liu comes stumbling home drunk and falls flat on his ass, causing him and the servant to rush over to him and help him to his feet

When Chief Liu asks him who he is and the servant explains, he looks at Chen Yuzhi and smiles

“So, Dr. Chen, how’s my wife?”

Chen Yuzhi nods

“I gave her some medicine, but she should be better in the morning”

Chief Liu smiles before he surges forward and kisses Chen Yuzhi on the lips, causing Chen Yuzhi and the servant’s eyes to widen in shock

“Dr. Chen, I’m so sorry—”

Chen Yuzhi waves his hand

“It’s fine. He’s just drunk, he won’t remember it in the morning. How about I give him an acupuncture treatment to help him sleep tonight?”

The servant nods

“That would be great”

Chen Yuzhi smiles and nods before he helps the servant stand Chief Liu to his feet and guide him inside so that he can give him the treatment

While he’s setting everything up, Chen Yuzhi wipes his lips vigorously with the back of his arm and lets out a deep breath; he would have punched the man had he 1) not been a police officer and 2) had his servant not been right there

But if the man tries again…Chen Yuzhi’s socking him

Second Time

The second time Chen Yuzhi is kissed without his consent is during a check-up with a rather cheeky patient

She flirts with Chen Yuzhi the entire time while Chen Yuzhi does his best to ignore her, she’s very persistent and at the end of the check-up, as Chen Yuzhi is cleaning up, she smiles at him

“Dr. Chen”

He looks up at her, just as she leans forward and pecks him on the lips, giggling before she runs out of the clinic, leaving Chen Yuzhi stunned before he takes a handkerchief and vigorously wipes his mouth

What she just did was HIGHLY unprofessional, and the next time Chen Yuzhi sees her, he’s going to instruct her to find another doctor because he refuses to put up with stuff like this

Third Time

The third time Chen Yuzhi is kissed without his consent is by Wang Meng before they put on their “show” in Jinma Hall’s hideout

As soon as they’re in the room and Wang Meng locks the door, he grabs Chen Yuzhi’s face in his hands and kisses him, causing Chen Yuzhi’s eyes to widen before he pushes him away and slaps him

“What the hell are you doing?”

Wang Meng smiles as he turns to look at him, his cheek slightly red and stinging

“Just taking a bit of good luck”

Chen Yuzhi huffs and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before he points at him

“Never do that again, do you hear me?”

Wang Meng nods before he begins shouting loudly about how Chen Yuzhi killed his mother while handing him a pen and a piece of money to write his note to Jiang Yuelou on, Chen Yuzhi cursing internally that this better fucking work

Fourth Time

The fourth time Chen Yuzhi is kissed without his consent is again by another drunk person, but this time it’s in a bar because Chen Yuzhi was called to treat someone who had gotten into a bar fight

When he goes to said bar, he’s quickly guided over to the injured party, and he begins treating them when the drunk person leans forward and kisses Chen Yuzhi, Chen Yuzhi’s eyes widening before he shoves them away and stands to his feet; he’s not dealing with this tonight

He makes to leave when the drunk person’s partner grabs him by the arm and spins him around before punching him in the face, sending him to the ground

“HEY!”

Chen Yuzhi and the drunk person that just punched him look up to see Jiang Yuelou glaring at them before he reaches down and helps Chen Yuzhi to his feet, Chen Yuzhi looking at him in confusion

“What are you doing here?”

Jiang Yuelou glances over at him

“I got a call about a drunk and disorderly…this the guy?”

Chen Yuzhi shakes his head

“I don’t know…I just want to go home”

Jiang Yuelou nods

“Okay, I’ll take you home”

He then turns back to the patrons of the bar and points at them

“None of you leave or I will hunt. you. down”

He then takes Chen Yuzhi by the arm and guides him out of the bar, both of them heading home

As they head home, Chen Yuzhi vigorously wipes his lips with the back of his hand, making Jiang Yuelou look over at him

“Are you okay?”

Chen Yuzhi looks back at him and nods

“I’m fine…I think I just need a shower”

Jiang Yuelou hums and nods as they continue home, Jiang Yuelou glancing over at Chen Yuzhi every now and then any time he sees the young doctor vigorously scrubbing his lips with the back of his arm

He doesn’t say anything, but he knows something happened tonight…when he goes back to the bar later, he’ll figure it out

Fifth Time

The fifth time Chen Yuzhi is kissed without his consent is when some thugs kidnap him and hold him hostage because they know Jiang Yuelou will come looking for him

When Jiang Yuelou does come for him, finally, one of the thugs decides to piss Jiang Yuelou off even more and walks over to Chen Yuzhi, grabbing him by the face before he kisses him straight on the mouth

Chen Yuzhi’s eyes widen and Jiang Yuelou growls before Chen Yuzhi rips his face away and kicks the thug in the chest (because they were dumb enough to only tie his hands and not his ankles), sending him flying back towards Jiang Yuelou, who puts a bullet in his back

While the other police officers goes to take care of the thugs, Jiang Yuelou runs over to Chen Yuzhi and helps him out of his bonds, looking at him with wide eyes

“Are you okay?”

Chen Yuzhi nods before he rubs his lips vigorously with the back of his arm, trying to get the kiss off his lips

Jiang Yuelou looks at him before he sighs and guides him out of the warehouse

+1 Sixth Time

The next day, as Chen Yuzhi is sitting in his clinic, working on paperwork, Jiang Yuelou walks in and walks around his desk before leaning against it

“Aiyo, look at your lips. They’re so red”

Chen Yuzhi looks up at him with wide eyes and gently touches his lips before he sighs

“Ah, well…the kidnapping yesterday…”

“And the bar a few nights ago”

Chen Yuzhi looks at him in surprise as he nods

“I noticed you rubbing your lips vigorously then like you did yesterday”

His face then turns dark

“Have people been kissing you without permission?”

Chen Yuzhi lowers his gaze

“It’s only happened a few times…”

Jiang Yuelou shakes his head

“That still doesn’t make it okay”

Chen Yuzhi doesn’t say anything, causing Jiang Yuelou to sigh before he smirks

“Should I kiss them better?”

Chen Yuzhi’s head snaps up and his mouth falls open in shock as Jiang Yuelou tilts his head

“Can I? Kiss them better?”

Chen Yuzhi blinks before he nods slowly; this is the first time someone’s asked

Jiang Yuelou smiles softly before he leans over and gently kisses Chen Yuzhi on the lips, causing Chen Yuzhi to sigh softly; this is the first time he doesn’t want to shove someone away

When Jiang Yuelou pulls away, he smiles and raises an eyebrow

“Better?”

Chen Yuzhi blushes

“Yes”

Jiang Yuelou smiles before he looks at Chen Yuzhi’s lips again

“Your lips are still red”

Chen Yuzhi blushes before he looks up at him

“Then you’re just going to have to kiss it better”

Jiang Yuelou raises an eyebrow

“Can I?”

Chen Yuzhi smiles and nods

“You can”

Jiang Yuelou smiles and leans over again, kissing Chen Yuzhi gently on the lips once more, making Chen Yuzhi smile into the kiss. This was better than any other kiss he had received before

#sass answers #kavita edition #Killer and Healer #jiang yuelou #chen yuzhi #5+1 #killer and healer headcanons #tw: non-consensual kissing

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dufrau · 1 year

Note

Alight bud, it's time.

2, 13, 20, 26 (I know you make, but the details!!), 36, 40 and 48

also 34 makes me cry a little.

Hoo boy lets go!

2. Describe your favorite pair of socks: I hate wearing socks honestly. I am barefoot as much as possible and in the summer I wear vans without socks. But I also like boots a lot so I need socks for those. I guess the pair I wear the most are like mid calf and they are purple and grey striped. Although I did buy some heavier winter socks this year that are like buffalo check plaid, I just havent worn them enough yet to give them the honors.

13. Do you prefer to write in pen or pencil? I like ballpoint pen a lot, for writing and (heretically) for drawing. But I dont have any ballpoint pens right now, I just have gel pens and I kind of hate them. I would take a pencil over a gel pen. I like the idea of fountain pens and I 100% understand why people collect them, but I am too messy I think to make good use of them. My handwriting looks like a serial killer's no matter what implement I use.

20. What kind of math are you best at? Addition and subtraction of single digit numbers. I only made it to Algebra 2 and I barely passed that class. Matrixes broke my brain. I can figure out what 20% is to tip people and that's about as mathy as I prefer to get.

26. Can you cook or bake? If so, what are some of your specialties? Yes. I am a very good cook, and good enough at following recipes to be a passable baker. The things I can make without really even thinking about it are roast chickens, basically any kind of beef stew or chicken soup, steaks, bbq chicken. Carnitas for tacos. I yolo salads, they always come out good. Heart kind of home cooking kind of stuff. Nothing fancy really. But its good and nobody goes home hungry.

36. What’s an arcade or table game (air hockey, ping pong, etc) that you’re really good at? Does beer pong count? Because I have had some triumphant moments at that. I would love to be good at pool but Im just not, and none of the super fast paced stuff works out great for me because number one im getting old and number two i am generally drunk if im playing games. I used to be very good at Big Buck Hunter but it's been a while since I've played so I'm probably pretty rusty.

40. What’s your favorite kind of tree? There was an apricot tree randomly along Pearl street in cambridge near my old apartment, just hanging out over the sidewalk. It was a weird place for a fruit tree, very urban and busy, and it didnt seem like anybody ever picked fruit from it because every year the sidewalk would get just absolutely disgusting with it. But I liked that tree because it was unexpected and neat. There's a sapling in our front yard that I was hoping was an apple tree but Im pretty sure its not. I like fruit trees I guess. It's just wild that you can plant a tree and ignore it and it will just rain fruit down on you. A miracle!

48. Do you have a favorite plate or bowl? No favorite plate. We have a multicolored set of bowls and I am partial to the lighter blue one because a lot of the bowl food I make is orange/reddish and I think it photographs well in a light blue bowl. I have a favorite beer mug, a fat little round keg shaped mug we got at Schilling brewing last fall. And I have a favorite wooden spoon, it's slightly rounded but has a great scraping edge on it for deglazing. And my favorite wine glass is a mason jar.

And BONUS QUESTION 34 yes i can read a clock. Genius confirmed!

(questions from this post)

#asks #a little bit of everything i guess???#this blogger does not math

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thewolfisawake · 1 year

Text

“Circe, Circe,” Nico called, the noise bringing attention to the animals. A few clustered at his feet, clamoring for attention or food, “Hey now, I don’t have anything for you. Especially you, Nektarios.”

Wading his way through, he started again, “Circe, are you--”

“It is hardly noon, child. Must you be so loud?” came the resonant voice of the goddess, echoing through her abode. While it could give a visitor a start, it merely elicited a sigh from Nico. The sound giving him hint as to where she was, he exhaled. His breath formed swirls of green that extended outward and cut through the illusions that were common on Aeaea.

This revealed the enchantress in what he called her throne, a chalice in her hand. He remarked, “I thought gods don’t get drunk. Much less hungover. Will you just hear me out?”

“You’ve already barged in.”

Nico restrained an eye roll. Not even his wayward mentor could bring this down for him, “I found a lead. Well, a lot more than a lead. I met my sis--my sibling on the new year.”

“Sibling?” her eye peered over to him. She hadn’t heard a stir within or outside the pantheon. But of course, the many centuries had led to many becoming more...quiet in their approaches. And as one of the many recluses, it wasn’t like she got news often.

“Yeah, they call themselves Rune although I think there may be another thing to that one. Anyway, they have mismatched eyes like I do. One’s even the same color as mine,” he brushed against the wisteria iris, “apparently it’s a family thing, which is why they could see me as related to them. But weirdly, it doesn’t sound like they’re in this family. They actually warned me to stay away from anyone else if I...how did they put it....’If you value your autonomy and do not adhere to others easily.’ Man, they do speak weird though. Reminds me of you.”

“One more jab and you will spend the night in the hogs pen.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” although his tone didn’t sound particularly sorry, “I’m just curious though. If they don’t like our family, why did they say anything to me? And what do they do? They put a knife to me--”

“--a knife--” Circe cried, her wine splattering onto a hound at her side. He let out a whine but lapped the drink. She ignored the creature as she considered the person Nico encountered. While she’d never say it outright, she had a soft spot for her pupil. And while she never had been keen on his search, the witch couldn’t deny him his desire.

“Yeah! As soon as they knew I was casting, they did that!” Nico said, excitement brushing over the danger he so casually mentioned, “To which, how did they know I was casting? Do they do magic too? Is the same as mine?”

“Instead of asking these to me you should ask your...sibling.”

“I wanted to!” he insisted, “And they answered some things here and there but said they only were here for a short time for work but said they’d come by again. They also had questions...which is a relief....I think.”

“You think?” she echoed, imploring him further.

“I don’t know what I expected when I would finally find something. I don’t know what to expect when it comes to this connection with Rune. They seem reluctant but they didn’t walk out when I invited them. They even messaged of timetables for the future. It almost----nevermind. I think I’m just glad that my lead isn’t gonna up and disappear as fast as they came.”

Circe gave a measured look towards the boy, “I would suggest that you keep your expectations realistic. That they may be able to help you figure out a bit more about your birther. That they may become a contact for you. But do not jump to conclusions. I believe you know enough tales to know what happens when you do.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And since you are here, there is a matter of a few of the quarters,” she chided. Nico groaned, knowing he was in for another day of hard labor rather than magic practice.

When he was sent to his task, Circe awaited his departure from her (and his) earshot. This time she purposely poured from her chalice onto the floor. Rather wine, a viscous liquid flowed. Like starlight captured in honey, it fell and spread into a circle. Its surface started to reflect various images.

Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise like the Pagonis man. This search of his parentage made the enchantress uneasy. Especially when it brought him far too close to whims of the divine. While many minded themselves, the sense of their own tended to bring change....nothing as gentle as the seasons but more like hurricanes and earth shaking. But this may prove a useful distraction.

#writings

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lobster-tales · 1 year

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Beat the Daylight

Sequel to Face the Noise, an Arcane Rock Band AU

Rating: M

Chapter 1: The Alley

Summary: While apprehending a criminal, Caitlyn discovers something sinister || Jinx meets a fan

CW: Attempted drunk driving, drug use, a little blood, violence

A/N: Quick retcon - I am going to age Jinx up by a year. So in Face the Noise, she is 16 years old, and in this sequel, she is 18.

This work is available here on AO3.

Caitlyn always spent her graveyard shift near the nightlife.

There wasn’t much in the Lanes: a few dive bars, restaurants that stayed open late. But most of the small town residents gravitated towards The Last Drop. The pub shone like a beacon, casting a warm glow from the corner of the town square. Even from her post across the street, Caitlyn could see the bodies shuffling inside, hear the laughs and clink of glassware. Every now and then, she would hear another voice rising above the others, a brash yet song-like voice.

Vi’s voice.

Officially, Caitlyn was supposed to be on patrol. Officially, she was. If the pub was the most popular place in town, that meant it was the source of the most activity. And sometimes, that activity turned criminal. So that’s why she was there. Being near her girlfriend was just a perk.

The heavy door of the pub flew open, followed by a stumbling man. He caught himself on the edge of a trash can outside the doors, holding back a retch as he got his bearings. His hand dove into his pocket.

Here we go, thought Caitlyn. As she stood, her motorcycle shifted behind her. “Sir!” she called, emerging from the shadows.

He didn’t hear her, or if he did, he ignored her. Instead, he staggered towards a white truck, nearly tripping over the curb as he stepped down.

An instinctual disgust rose in Caitlyn, but it was easy to quell. She had lost count of the drunk drivers she’d caught, all crashing out of the Last Drop in the wee hours. This man would receive the same treatment as the rest of them. Her hand hovered above the handcuffs on her hip.

The man stopped suddenly, dead in the middle of the street. Good thing there was no traffic this late at night. He pulled something out of his pocket, what Caitlyn initially assumed was a set of keys.

But it didn’t jingle. And it was the wrong shape: cylindrical, like a pen, with a needle at it’s-

Caitlyn froze.

The man swung his head to the right and left to scan the perimeter, though she doubted his effectiveness. Then he crossed the street back the way he came, disappearing into an alley.

She wanted to call out again, but fear trapped her voice. All she could do was follow. Caitlyn removed the flashlight from her belt to examine the alleyway.

The light caught a scramble of movement behind the dumpster. Then, a glimpse of pale arms, a trickle of blood, and a bright pink liquid. Nearly neon pink.

“Freeze!” she commanded. He didn’t obey. The perpetrator was fast: surprisingly fast for someone who was barely able to walk a few moments ago. But Caitlyn was faster. She could have touched his elbow as they rounded the corner behind the Last Drop, but in a desperate move, he knocked his arm against a stack of empty boxes. Caitlyn’s legs tangled in the cardboard, and she crashed to the pavement.

He let out a breathy cackle, and then a cry. Caitlyn knew the source of the thud! before she stood.

“Ah, Huck,” Vi purred, lifting him by the collar of his shirt so that his feet barely touched the ground. “What did I tell you about driving home?”

He spit blood at her feet, but she was unphased. Vi shoved him face first against the wall, pinning his hands behind his back. She called, “You okay, Cait?”

Caitlyn mentally assessed her body. Nothing broken, just a few scrapes. “I’m fine.” Vi stepped aside to let her cuff his wrists. It was their ritual, a well-rehearsed capture.

Having caught her breath, Caitlyn recited Miranda Rights, then called into her radio for backup, since she couldn’t take him in on her motorcycle. Her final priority: “I had him, you know.”

“I know.” Vi perched on an empty, half-turned glass rack, wiped the blood off her shoes with a bar rag. “Figured I’d save you the trouble, Cupcake.”

Caitlyn wrinkled her nose. She didn’t like being undermined in front of perpetrators, even the ones too drunk or high to remember. “Vi, we’ve talked about this. You’re not an officer of the law. One of these days, you’ll get charged with assault.”

“Who’s gonna arrest me, you?” When Vi smirked, the tattoo on her cheek followed suit. She held up her hands, wrists pressed together, and she spread her legs. “Got another pair of cuffs for me?”

Even after nearly two years of dating, Caitlyn still flushed when Vi flirted with her. Any other night, she might have flirted back. But she was still too rattled. Her thoughts weren’t here, they were back in that alley, with that flash of neon pink. “Stop it. I’m being serious.��

“And I’m not?” Vi rose to meet her. This close, Caitlyn could smell the bar on her, the mixture of alcohols that occasionally splashed on her clothes. “You gonna take me downtown, Cupcake?” Vi tucked a loose strand of navy hair behind Caitlyn’s ear, her calloused yet gentle fingers finding a home on the back of her neck.

“Vi…” Caitlyn was almost tempted. Almost. “Not tonight. I’m sorry.”

Then Vi’s seduction melted into concern. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, Violet,” Caitlyn said, not wanting to worry her. “Just… need my goddamn backup.” She held the radio to her lips again, her excuse to step away. “Squad car, requesting your location, over.”

They heard the sound of glass breaking inside the pub, followed by a chatter of voices. But still Vi lingered. “What time are you off?” she asked.

“2 A.M.”

Vi flirted again, but only halfheartedly. “What a coincidence: so am I.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.” Even with the weight of the night’s events on her shoulders, Caitlyn still regretted her coarseness, so she softened the blow with a breathy, “My love.”

Vi, reassured, returned to the pub’s warmth.

“Squad car!” Caitlyn growled into the radio. She had not wanted Vi to see this part. “Requesting your location!”

Only then did the squad car respond. “Read you loud and clear, Kiramman, what’s up?”

She grit her teeth at their unprofessionalism. “I have a 10-56 that I have detai-”

“A what?” they asked, and she heard snickering from another colleague.

“... An intoxicated pedestrian. I detained him in the alley behind The Last Drop, requesting a car for pickup.”

The radio crackled for a moment with no voices. Then, they said, “Sorry, Kiramman, squad car is currently taking a lunch break.”

Caitlyn wanted to punch something. Forcing herself to calm down, she held the radio back up and said, “Where’s the other squad car?”

“Also taking a lunch break,” said her coworker before both of them dissolved into laughter.

Pricks. That’s what she wanted to say, but instead she said simply, “Pick me up when you’re done. Hurry. Over and out.”

After breathalyzing her prisoner, Caitlyn attempted to interrogate him, but he had nothing coherent to say. She knew that her evidence was going to be in that alley. In his state, though, she couldn’t abandon him to investigate. So instead, she waited.

The squad car arrived 45 minutes later. Caitlyn was gone before they had even stepped foot out of the vehicle.

She found the broken needle. Most of the pink liquid was gone, but not all, a few drops spilling onto the pavement. Even in a small amount, it gleamed iridescent like oil.

Caitlyn collected the evidence grimly. Evidence that her greatest fear had become real.

Shimmer had made it to The Lanes.

☆ ☆ ☆

The room was full of people, and Jinx was completely alone.

Another dinner party, though she didn’t remember who was hosting. Probably a shareholder or city official: someone trying to impress Silco. His name was on the invitation, not hers, but he brought her along as often as he could. We have to keep up appearances, Jinx, he said every time. Give the people what they want.

And yet despite how much everyone wanted her, very few people talked with her. Talked at her, sure. About ad deals, private performances. All work, no play.

Then again, she wasn’t in the mood to play, either. In fact, when she did manage to weasel her way to the balcony for a moment unbothered, her champagne glass remained full, the twisted silly straw untouched. She held it over the railing as she surveyed Zaun.

Jinx was born in this city. In a different family, under a different name. When she first came here, she didn’t recognize the neon spires, the metalwork. But that was two years ago. Now, she knew the face of her empire.

Or at least, it would be an empire. One day. Silco wanted to make Zaun independent. He'd shared his plans with her, his goals and strategies. She was his heir, to an empire that wasn’t even conquered yet.

Some luck.

Though she had done well making her mark on the Undercity. There was the concert hall where she shot out a stage light. Just behind that skyscraper was a club where she drank too much and threw up for the first time. And there was the hotel, watching her with its blazing, spined eye logo: the headquarters of Shimmer Entertainment, as well as her home.

Jinx heard steps behind her, and assumed it was Silco, or her bodyguard Sevika. “Aww, you found me,” she said, still facing the city. “Next round, you hide, and I’ll seek.”

The voice that responded was unknown to her: breathy, female. “Why would I hide when I just found you?”

The speaker was Jinx’s age, maybe a few years older. While Jinx wore a short black cocktail dress, the other girl wore a full length white gown, which–paired with the silver headband and light hair–gave her a sort of angel vibe. It wasn’t just because of her physical appearance, though: there was a luminescence to her beauty. She emitted her own light.

“That is,” the girl said gently. “Is it alright if I join you?”

Jinx was usually so careful with her emotions. She hoped the girl didn’t notice her staring. “... Knock yourself out,” she said.

The two rested their arms on the railing. Sirens echoed in the distance, and every now and then, the early winter breeze brought music with it.

Jinx asked, “Whatcha drinking?”, indicating the crystal in the girl’s hand.

“Apple cider.”

Jinx held out her glass, the silly straw clinking against the rim. “Want some champagne?”

“No, thank you,” the girl said, “I’m underage.”

Jinx’s laugh echoed out over the rooftops. “Whatever, toots.” She loudly slurped through the straw.

Her companion was surprised. “Oh! Sorry, I guess I thought you were younger.”

“I am.”

Both were unsure what to say next. Jinx wondered what the girl’s intentions were, what new invention or idea she would try to pitch. Everyone always thought they could get to Silco’s fortune through Jinx. They didn’t know that she was impassable.

“... My name’s Lux, by the way. Well, actually it’s Luxanna. Crownguard, Luxanna Crownguard, but that’s a bit of a mouthful, so everyone just calls me Lux.” The girl stuck out her hand, palm down. Jinx thought it might be to show off her several gold rings, but the action seemed rehearsed. Trained. So Jinx didn’t hold it against her.

Instead, she took Lux’s fingers, shaking them violently. “Jinx.”

Lux winced as she pulled her hand back. “I know.” Then, quickly, “That is, everyone knows who you are. I’m actually a really big fan.”

“Why wouldn’t you be,” Jinx muttered. She had heard it hundreds of times before.

“I love your music,” said Lux. “I wasn’t really into hyperpop before, but now I listen to it all the time. Not around my family, though. But they’re weird about music. Well, except for classical.”

Lux rambled a little more, about how her family was from Demacia, a city on the east coast. It was hard for Jinx to concentrate on her words too much, not when she was so captivated by her energy. Lux talked with her hands a lot, her rings glistening in the party lights.

On the other side of the balcony, a group of cackling socialites emerged. Lux continued, blissfully unaware. “But my brother Garen decided to stay home this time, take care of the family business.”

One of the socialites made eye contact with Jinx. They grinned around a cigarette, and got the group’s attention. All of them ambled towards her, and she could practically see the dollar signs in their eyes.

Jinx interrupted Lux, “You wanna get out of here?”

“What?”

Not waiting for an answer, Jinx launched her empty glass at the socialites. It shattered at their feet, and they all jumped back in surprise. Jinx threw a leg over the railing, her boot thudding on the concrete.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Lux asked, dismayed. “Be careful, you’ll fall!”

The dinner party was on the top floor of the convention center. Beneath it ran a series of empty conference rooms, each with its own balcony. From Jinx’s position, she could easily swing down to one of them.

The socialites barked, and Sevika appeared at the door. Sneering, like always. “Who’s that?” asked Lux, bewildered.

“My bodyguard.” Jinx held out a hand to her. “Come with me.”

“What?” she repeated, but it was less a question and more of a confirmation. “Are-are you sure?”

Sevika stormed towards them. “Yes,” Jinx hissed. “Come on.”

Immediately, Lux downed her apple cider and followed Jinx’s lead, hurling the glass at Sevika. She threw with too much force, though, and the glass clunked against Sevika’s shin before crashing at her feet.

“My shoes-” Lux said, lifting the satiny fabric of her dress to reveal gold heels.

Exactly the reason Jinx always wore combat boots. “Take them off.”

She obeyed, then hiked up her dress and hopped over the railing.

Jinx leapt to the nearest balcony. After landing, she opened her arms towards Lux. “Jump! I’ll catch you!”

Lux’s apprehension disintegrated when Sevika reached over the railing. The dress billowed around her like a cloud as she descended. She crashed into Jinx, and the two fell back in a tangle of limbs.

Sevika’s frustrated grunt was like music. Jinx grinned at Lux, their faces mere inches apart. “See? Told you I’d catch you.”

A pretty blush bloomed on Lux’s cheeks as she giggled, helping Jinx to her feet. When they were sure Sevika was gone, Jinx took her hand.

“Come on.”

“Now where are we going?” asked Lux.

“To throw her off the trail.” Jinx guided her to the balcony’s edge, jumping to the next. Lux seemed more ready this time, and instead of colliding with her, she landed gracefully on the concrete.

They leapt to another balcony, and another, until they had made their way across the building. With each jump, Lux laughed more, and Jinx found herself joining in. Jinx couldn’t remember the last time she laughed so much.

When she was satisfied, Jinx used a bobby pin to pick one of the locks. They kept the lights off, not wanting to give away their position. The neon glow of Zaun gave enough to adjust their eyesight. This conference room was more like a suite, with the meeting table at one side, and a modern sitting area on the other. A mini-fridge hummed in the corner, connected to the same outlet as the TV.

Jinx glided towards the sitting area, hands behind her back. “Ah, our first home,” she said playfully, falling onto a couch.

“Ugh, I can’t wait to re-decorate,” Lux giggled as she knelt, folding her hands on the back of the couch. “What is it with business people and gray?”

“Right? Let’s make it pink instead! Hot pink, splattered all over the walls!”

Lux asked, “Can we add some blue?”

“Sure!” said Jinx. “We’ll swap out the fridge for a milkshake machine, and add a cannon next to the window to blast our enemies!”

Lux scoffed, and the sound sent Jinx into a spiral of uncertainty. Her sense of humor wasn’t exactly popular. But instead of mocking her, Lux said, “Absolutely not! That’s where I’m putting the library! Besides, the glass would be in the way. Put the cannon on the balcony.”

Content warmed Jinx, but outwardly, she pretended to gag. “Ew, a library? Okay, nerd.”

Lux playfully shoved her off the couch, a little too hard, causing Jinx to land on the dull carpet with a soft thud. “Oh, sorry! Are you okay?” Lux asked.

But Jinx just cackled. “Fine,” she said, taking Lux’s outstretched hand. “Just-” When she rose, the words caught in her throat. They were so close that Jinx could practically feel the heat of Lux’s glow, her floral perfume mingling with the cinnamon on her breath. Lux’s eyes glittered in the low light, her lips parted just slightly.

Jinx wanted to kiss her, but something held her back. It felt wrong for her to initiate the action, especially since Lux was a fan. So Jinx waited for her consent.

Lux really mulled it over, but ultimately pulled away, stammering, “S-sorry, I didn’t…” She retreated to the door. Jinx wished she could grab her, pull her in, keep her here. But she knew better than to deny anyone their freedom. “I should go,” said Lux. “I’m sorry, just… my boyfriend’s probably looking for me.”

The words shattered Jinx. But she had a lot of practice hiding her feelings, and concealed the pain with indifference. “Cool. Then go.” She flipped the TV on, acting as though she was suddenly very invested in a house hunting show.

Lux lingered at the door. “You know… I had a lot of fun tonight… More fun than I’ve had in a really long time.”

Jinx only offered a grunt in response.

With a quiet, “See you around, Jinx,” Lux disappeared.

Her presence was replaced by loneliness, whom Jinx welcomed like a bitter rival. Once it had fully consumed her again, she reached for the lights and furiously flipped them on and off, nearly breaking the switch as she signaled Sevika or whoever else was looking for her. There was no point in hiding anymore: the game was over. And Jinx had lost. Again. Like always.

She withdrew to the balcony. The Undercity’s distant sirens and music sounded more like cruel laughter now. That alone, she could tolerate. But the real kicker was the quiet, familiar voice in her mind.

“Now you know what it’s like,” Vi echoed in her thoughts.

#arcane #vicait #violyn #lightcannon #jinx #rock band au #battle of the bands au #chapter 1 #face the noise #beat the daylight #my fic

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ladykailolu · 1 year

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Broooooooo

Come on now, I’m imaging Gyro being dickass Gyro and ignoring the needs of his infant daughters Maggie and Sadie-Mae (they’re close in age but were born to two different mothers) yet again and so Jake and Diego are running themselves ragged. Holy shit! These girls didn’t just shit their diapers again did they??/ Are they hungry, when did we last feed them, maybe they need to be burped???? Hey, they stopped crying as soon as they saw us, what could this mean??? And so on and so forth.

So Jake has this mental checklist to go through every time one of the girls cry or make a fuss. Ergo, Jake handles the babies.

The other menace on their hands is Gyro’s *other* daughter. THe menace to society. The miniature Gyro. The little bull herself. The little Italian (Neapolitan) girl with a super mad bad attitude. Paxe Amalia Zeppeli.

Diego does more than wear a little cinnamon-scent spice scent. He’s also a bit spicy with his attitude. So the little bull is charging at him? No problem, his people were born to be bullfighters!!!! Olé !!!! He makes quick work of the bull and sends her in her pen (bedroom) when she tries to poke him with her horns. Off you go to bed, little girl!!! And so, Paxe dreams of the days when she can charge at and launch Diego into the air.

And all the while, what the fuck is Gyro doing??? He’s either working or shirking his work as a father!!! Diego and Jake search the house looking for him, each carrying a squirming baby, and Gyro is nowhere to be found.

Then he comes home a little later than usual and is drunk as a skunk. “Where the fuck have you been? The girls have been shitting everywhere, they just vomited today, they’re crying and won’t stop!!!!”

But Gyro doesn’t give a shit, really. Out of the three, Paxe is the one he cares about most. Matter of fact, Paxe is so close to Gyro that she instantly pacifies when Gyro is near. In other words, she don’t fight, she don’t back, she don’t dig in her little heels when something don’t go her way. No, no, no!

Then Jake and Diego start nagging in Gyro’s ears when all the kids are asleep. “What kind of a father are you?” “What kind of a MAN are you?!” “Leaving your little baby girl out like that...!” “You’re a monster!!” And things like that!

And Gyro finally, finally wises tf up and thinks, “Yeah, what the fuck am I doing, my baby daughters need me...” And he makes an effort helping Diego and Jake care for the girls. I mean really, sometimes, Diego needs some quiet time in the evenings and nights to further work on his case or take care of some legal matters. Usually, he takes care of this in his office where he knows it’s quiet, but with these three kids, oh my god, there’s no way that he can keep this up!!!! He has to work on his homework from home!

The home has an office room that he could use, and he does use it, but those kids are still a handful. Many times, he’s heard Jake pace up and down the hallway by the baby screams Diego hears through the walls. Jake was struggling to pacify all of them and kept shuffling up and down the corridors. Diego couldn’t work that like. No. Way. Every goddamn five minutes, he was interrupted from his attempt at navigating the most difficult of law!

They needed more help. By god, they needed more help!!! Maybe one other person to help lighten the load. Jake became detective by day and devoted dad at night, flitting here and there to check up on each kid. But he disliked working with Paxe because she would charge him and every opportunity and only found his presence revolting. So Diego had to step in and set things straight. He’s much strict and stern and hard-attitude spicy like her father, but unlike him, Diego wasn’t her father! And he never would be! So that is why she is easy to fight him, to charge at him like a bull. But like a bullfighter, he evaded and humiliated her.

And the other thing is that Diego quickly found himself holding a baby in his arms and soothing her while looking over some business stuff on his home computer. He could no longer separate work from family matters.

They needed Gyro and his help. And so when he helped, he could balance running around, pacifying each kid individually, and pacify Paxe when the little bull stirred and wanted attention and affection. Admittedly, Gyro only needed to keep Paxe at bay. Jake could easily deduce what the babies needed and spring into action. And Diego got used to and even liked the feeling of a baby sleeping soundly in his arms after a fight, while he reads documents for work.

#gyro zeppeli #diego armando #godot ace attorney #jake marshall #godot #jjba #ace attorney #3 men and a baby #gyroxjakexgodot #paxe amalia zeppeli #margaret 'maggie' nichole joestar-zeppeli #Sadie-Mae Tinsley Maddlin #the bastard zeppeli daughters #the bastard zeppeli children

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lotus-flowerz · 3 years

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hello hello I love your writings so far sobs I couldn't help but do an ask myself aa (it's my first ask ever help hwkajd) could I request perhaps gn reader that flinched away from the boys by reflex? (preferably with Diluc, Kaeya and Kazuha but you can add or remove someone if you want to!) like they were hanging out and reader was lost in thoughts and suddenly when they see in the corner of their eyes how the boys raise their arm for smth reader quickly raises their arms above their own head to protect it- how would they react and how would they comfort the reader? I hope it's not too much or if you're uncomfortable with it you can ignore it if you want to whaaaa

AHHH TY IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY WRITING! i actually do this too, some of my old friends would make fun of me for it, so i hope that my writing here is accurate >.<

i also added beidou in here, hope you don't mind, i just had to since she's my favorite character <3

TW!! FLINCHING, ANXIETY, PAST TRAUMA, MENTION OF DEATH AND INJURIES

SLIGHT INAZUMA ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS

KAEYA BACKSTORY SPOILERS

The cherry blossoms fell silently from the trees under which you and Kazuha were sitting. Those had remained unchanged since you and Kazuha were children. The beauty of the pink blossoms falling towards the green earth without a care.

It had remained the same through the vision hunt decree, through the war, through watching Tomo get killed by the shogun, through both of you getting injured during said fight. Kazuha's hand was burnt from Tomo's vision, and your body had a large scar running from your knee to the side of your neck from a stray bolt of lighting from Tomo's divine punishment. If not for Kazuha's determination to not lose another friend and Beidou and her crew caring for you, you would be dead.

These days, although you and Kazuha both carried the same trauma, he seemed to be doing leaps and bounds better than you were. Your eyes flitted to Kazuha, who was writing poetry. The only sound that could be heard was his pen gliding across the paper, filling it with his eloquent words that always seemed to flow so smoothly.

You were deep in thought, when out of the corner of your eye you spotted something coming towards your face. Instinctively, your hands flew out to shield yourself, leaving a very confused Kazuha, who was only scratching his head, looking at you with concern in his eyes.

"Dove.. did you think I was going to hurt you?"

You slowly lowered your arms, guilt washing over you.

"No! It's just- sometimes, when movements are too sudden.. I.. you know, I try to protect myself because uh.."

His eyes drifted to your scar, then looked up at your face, only to find it tilted to the ground. He put a finger under your chin, bringing your eyes up to meet his, then kissing your forehead.

One hand snaked around your waist while the other traced lightly over your scar, sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your arms around him as well, putting a little of your weight onto him.

He kissed your lips, squeezing you tight against him.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you again. I promise."

"Kazuha, it's not-"

"I know it's not my fault. And I know I couldn't have prevented it. But I promise you, you're safe now."

He brought his hand up to cradle the back of your head as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"Thank you." you said, squeezing him a little tighter.

"No need to thank me. I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Kazuha."

You had been a part of Beidou's crew for just over a year now, after meeting her in the wharf of Liyue harbor after finally finding the courage to leave your abusive and toxic partner. You didn't have a place to stay and you were clearly distraught, so when she asked if you were okay and you immediately began to cry, she offered you to come on her ship. You trusted her, since she was the well-known captain of the Crux. After you had explained your situation, she offered you to join her crew. You agreed, and began dating her about six months after joining the Crux.

Because you had been aboard the Alcor for a year, you knew the crew was loud and prone to get drunk. You had never liked to drink, preferring to quietly sip a small glass of dandelion wine while sitting next to Beidou while she drank a few beers and talked with her crew.

It was now the one year anniversary of when you had left Liyue Harbor, and conveniently, the Alcor was anchored there for a bit for a supplies run, imports drop off, and exports pickup. While out and about with Beidou, you had seen your ex in the wharf. They were about to come and talk to you, when you had pointed them out to Beidou. Beidou had slipped her arm around your waist, glaring at your ex, who glared back and turned heel to walk away.

Now, you sipped your wine beside Beidou, deep in thought. The loud atmosphere wasn't helping your anxieties, and you couldn't get your ex's glare out of your head. You didn't even realize you were completely zoned out until Beidou raised her arm to sling it around your shoulders, after she noticed you were zoned out.

Your arms flew up to shield yourself, and you spilt wine all over the both of you. The cup clattered to the floor, but luckily no one else noticed what just happened.

Beidou's face dropped and she quickly picked up the cup, setting it back down on the table.

"Men!" she called out. "Y/n and I are turning in early tonight! Make sure you scallywags have this cleaned up by the morning!"

The crew cheered their goodnights, raising their beers to their captain and her first mate. Beidou smiled, slipped an arm around your waist, and led you back to your guys' shared quarters.

"Alright doll, what happened just now?"

She closed the door behind her and sat on the bed next to you, looking at you with a certain softness that made you melt.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, I was just thinking of my ex, and how we saw them earlier, and I couldn't get their glare out of my head.. and I left them exactly a year ago.. I don't know why I flinched away from yo-"

Beidou cut you off by taking both of your hands into hers.

"Y/n, don't say sorry! You know, your ex wouldn't stand a chance against even my weakest crew member. They will never hurt you again."

"I don't doubt that for a second," you said, a small smile growing on your face, "Thank you for taking me in, Beidou."

"No, the pleasure is all mine. I couldn't ask for a better first mate. You're safe now, okay?" she smiled, squeezing your hands.

You looked into her eyes for a moment before throwing your arms around her. She squeezed you back, kissing your head.

"C'mon, let's shower and get this wine off of us." she giggled.

You laughed. "Yeah, let's."

Kaeya had told you his backstory, but you never mentioned yours. You just weren't ready to talk about it. Your parents had never been great, you always walked on eggshells around everyone, and everyone was all too rough with you, emotionally and physically.

You had met Kaeya in the tavern one night, while trying to drink away what you were feeling. Kaeya had noticed how obliterated you were and let Diluc know he was taking you to stay at the Knights Headquarters, and would keep an eye on you. The rest was history, and now you and Kaeya had been dating for a little over a year.

Kaeya had told you his backstory on Monday. That same day later on, you had a run in with your parents at Blanche's, where they had yelled at you for deciding to become a Knight, and proceeded to pick you apart from your very core.

In turn, you had been drinking a little more than usual for the entire week. You seemed more withdrawn and just not fully there. And it all came to a head when you were laying in bed next to Kaeya.

He went to put his arm over you, a loving gesture, but your arms came up on instinct to shield yourself. He sighed loudly.

"You're scared of me."

"Oh Archons- I didn't mean to- no, I swear it isn't-"

"You've been acting all angry and cold ever since I told you about my roots. I thought you would be the one who didn't leave me after I told them."

"No, Kaeya- please, just let me explain!"

"I'm listening."

You began to hesitantly tell him about your parents. His face grew angrier and angrier every time you told him another thing your parents had done to you.

"I'll kill them. I had no idea that that happened though. I'm sorry for assuming."

"It's alright, Kaeya. I didn't even consider that you might think I was acting weird because of where your confession."

"I swear they'll never get near you again, alright? You're safe now. It's alright."

He pulled you into him, wrapping you up in his strong arms and putting his legs over yours, making you feel protected and safe.

"No one will hurt you, not on my watch. I love you, Y/n."

"I love you too, Kaeya. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"No need for apologies, you were gonna tell me when you were ready. Now let's get some sleep, that dandelion wine I downed earlier is starting to get to me."

You giggled, burying your head further into his chest.

"Alright. Goodnight, Kaeya."

"Night, prince/ess."

You and Diluc had been dating for a few months now, you had met when he had needed to hire a new bartender, and you volunteered your mixing skills to the Angel's Share. You had caught his eye immediately, and he had asked you out on a date soon after you began your work there.

Your ex wasn't a kind person, to say the least, so you had been hesitant to say yes. You assured Diluc that this was just because your ex was unkind to you, but you had never mentioned physical harm. You hadn't wanted to worry him.

You were sitting on the couch with Diluc, his arm slung over your shoulders while you stared into the crackling flames of the fire burning before you. Diluc wasn't paying attention, as he was reading a book in his free hand.

He raised his arm up, attempting to adjust to a more comfortable position, but you misread this. Your arms were shielding your face in an instant, and Diluc was looking at you with a shocked and concerned face that quickly morphed to anger.

"I'm going to kill him." he growled/

You lowered your arms and looked down, avoiding looking him in the eye.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"Did he hit you??"

"I, um, didn't want to worry you."

"Barbatos.. and this domestic abuser is just, what, roaming around Mondstat? No punishment for the pain he put you through?"

"I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want him to come and hurt me. I also didn't want to cause any trouble."

Diluc rubbed a hand over his face, before wrapping you in a hug.

"You're safe here, alright? I will never lay a hand on you to hurt you. I won't let anyone else hurt you either, okay?"

"Thank you.." your eyes welled up with tears, "I thought you would be upset that I didn't tell you."

"No, never. It's a hard thing to talk about. If you'd like, I have connections. We can have him arrested."

"I don't want to cause trouble.."

"You won't. He won't be able to hurt anyone else this way. But we can discuss this later. Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"That'd be nice. Thanks, Diluc."

"You're welcome, angel. Tell me if anyone hurts you again, alright? I'll protect you."

"Will do. I love you."

"I love you too."

1K notes · View notes

tyonfs · 4 years

Text

cat & mouse

❝ rule number one of bro code states that sisters are completely off-limits, and, y/n, we just pushed that limit. ❞

PAIRING ▸ na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, crack, fluff, college au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ lots of !! sexual tension !! and jaemin acting like a dick, protective big brother!jaehyun, lots of sneaking around, jaemin calls you princess a lot, teasing, fingering, alcohol consumption, hooking up, thigh riding, smut, oral sex, aftercare

SUMMARY ▸ tired of meaningless hookups and dull parties, na jaemin had always been hesitant to indulge himself. that is, of course, until he met you. however, upon realizing you’re none other than jeong jaehyun’s little sister, jaemin has to keep his relationship with you under wraps to make sure his team captain doesn’t find out.

PLAYLIST ▸ move! by niki • playinwitme by kyle (feat. kehlani)

WORD COUNT ▸ 17713 words

TAG LIST ▸ @chubsluda @celestialchans @treasurestay @luvlyjaemin @lanadreamie @kylomeyon @taehinsano @jenotation @ovelha-colorida-v @hrjflrt @to-blessed-2-be-stressed @honeyju @chanluster @sweetjaemss @najaemsenthusiastttt @neovrse @jjikyuu @treasurestay @ahgastayzen @wcnderlandss @jaehy9ngs @jaemxins @syhznanny @lilminyoongles @bbnana

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you so much for all of your love and support !! it’s beyond me & i hope you guys enjoy this ! part of the dunk shot! series but it can be read separately ♡

NA JAEMIN HATED PARTIES.

In the same vein, he hated basketball to an extent. It wasn’t the sport itself that he despised, it was the commitments that followed it. As a vital player on the team, he was obligated to attend every afterparty despite how much he loathed parties. Yet, what he couldn’t stand was being nagged by his teammates, so Jaemin went to the parties. He went to the parties and drank until he was numb and the party was tolerable.

He didn’t even like drinking that much, but he didn’t have much of a choice when most of the members of the basketball team were his seniors. Jaemin was pretty sure his brain cells depleted one-by-one every time he took a shot, but sometimes he got away with faking his alcohol intake when the others were too drunk to keep track. His best friend, Lee Jeno, on the other hand, lived for parties like this. Jaemin used that to his advantage; Jeno was the perfect target to hand off his unwanted shots to.

“Jaemin!” Jeong Jaehyun, the captain of the basketball team, made his presence known easily. After all, the parties were always hosted at his house. “Let’s do a love shot.”

If it were anyone else, Jaemin would’ve turned them down with some sarcastic, witty comeback. However, Jaehyun was different. Jaemin admired him since they were high schoolers on the basketball team. Jaehyun was two years older but his skills were on another level. Jaemin had always worked to see if he could surpass him but to no avail.

“Sure.” Jaemin got off of the couch, where he was aimlessly scrolling through his social media and observing the party. He followed Jaehyun to the kitchen counter. “You got tequila?”

It was a stupid question. Jaehyun was loaded; his supply of alcohol seemed endless.

“Of course,” Jaehyun replied. He took a red solo cup and measured a shot of tequila. “By the way, why don’t you talk to any of the girls here? You seem tense. You should get laid.”

It wasn’t like Jaemin intentionally avoided the girls. He just had no interest in people who wanted to blindly hook-up and forget about it the next morning. He didn’t completely ignore them either. Jaemin distinctly remembered a pretty blonde passing him her vape pen, which he politely refused. While he didn’t mind destroying his liver, he wanted to keep his lungs intact.

“There’s no one here I want to fuck,” was Jaemin’s impassive response. “Especially not when they’re drunk off their ass.”

“Is that so? How much did you drink tonight?”

“This is my third or fourth shot, I think.”

Jaehyun snorted and held out the red solo cup to him. “Well, here’s to your intact virginity.”

“I’m not a virgin.” Jaemin took the cup and swished its contents around. “Can’t we toast to something more practical? Like basketball?”

A chuckle escaped Jaehyun’s lips, bemused like a father to his son. He eyed Jaemin as he held the red solo cup to his lips. “Ready?”

Jaehyun didn’t wait for Jaemin, though. He tipped his cup up, downing the contents, and Jaemin followed suit as quickly as he could. The tequila was a smooth burn down his throat, but it made Jaemin feel slow and hazy. The fire spread across his chest, spreading to his arms, legs, and then his head. He felt fuzzy and was sure he had hit his limit for the night.

Jaemin took an unstable step forward, and Jaehyun put a firm hand on his shoulder, asking, “You good?” to which Jaemin answered with a dazed nod. With a grin, Jaehyun patted his back firmly. “See you when we’re both conscious again, man.”

The next thirty minutes were a blur. Jaemin found himself at a beer pong table and, in his drunken state, pretended he was practicing his free throws while he relished the crowd cheering him on. He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders, cheering wildly at the side until he got a headache. Eventually, the house felt too stuffy and he decided to go out to the backyard to let his buzz fade out.

Outside wasn’t any better. The cheers were louder outside and the music was still blasting. The fog in Jaemin’s head thickened and he was sure he felt hands trying to guide him to the pool, but he brushed them off. He narrowed his eyes onto a lawn chair and willed himself to walk straight towards it.

Sit, he ordered himself. Do not get in the pool and make a fool out of yourself.

After pushing past a few of his teammates and the girls hovering around them, Jaemin’s knees buckled under him as soon as he got to the lawn chair. It was damp when he sat down, but he was too drunk and dazed to care. Jaemin looked up at the sky, unfocused, and was only pulled from his thoughts when his phone went off.

annoying jeno: where tf did u go? this girl wants me to introduce her to u

It was time for another shot.

Jaemin felt heavy. He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, and spotted a red solo cup on the side table to his right. He reached for it and inspected the contents, sloshing it around sluggishly until he noticed a pair of eyes boring into him.

You were isolating yourself from the rest of the party, just like him. You weren’t giving him the sex eyes like he had expected; you looked more confused. Unlike Jaemin, you looked much more sober and functional. It was painfully obvious by the way Jaemin couldn’t seem to focus on you without seeing double.

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol in his system, but Jaemin had no idea who you were, but fuck, he wanted to. He pushed it down, though. Hookups were never fulfilling, and Jaemin wasn’t here to let himself go.

“Why are you staring at me?” Jaemin asked in a low voice, trying to speak coherently without slurring his words. He wasn’t sure if it worked, but you seemed to understand.

To his surprise, you fired a question back at him. “What are you doing?”

Jaemin wasn’t sure how to answer that. He was obviously drunk off his ass, so what was he supposed to explain when it was clear as day?

“Waiting for this stupid party to be over,” Jaemin replied. He dropped his gaze back to the cup he held on his lap. “Why are you still staring? I’m not interested.”

“You’re holding my drink.”

Jaemin stilled. He looked between you and the cup for a moment before muttering a pathetic “oh.” He flushed and held the cup out to you. “Sorry.”

You took the cup gingerly and downed your shot before advising him, “You know, you shouldn’t be taking random cups and drinking from them at parties. You never know what they could be laced with.”

Jaemin’s head lolled to the side, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t want to join the party, but he didn’t want to sit back and be scolded. He was debating making a run for the fence in Jaehyun’s backyard. His house was only a few blocks away and he was pretty sure he’d be sober enough to make it. Jeno, however, was the obstacle he was worried about. If he ran off without telling Jeno (who was going to disapprove anyway), he was sure to get an earful the next day.

“Also,” you continued, “don’t go around assuming every girl who looks in your general direction wants to fuck you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jaemin grumbled, too drained to argue back. “Shouldn’t you be partying with everyone? It’s depressing over here.”

“This isn’t my party to celebrate,” you said, biting down on the rim of your cup delicately. “I’m just here for the drinks.”

Jaemin didn’t know what to say to that, so he decided to introduce himself. “I’m Na Jaemin, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you replied. “Pleasure to meet you, Na Jaemin.”

Jaemin’s eyelashes were obscuring his vision as he tried to squint to make you out. He wasn’t sure if it was the drunken stupor, but you were breathtaking. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Jaemin was currently seeing double of you. Jaemin wasn’t sure how he had ever missed you at any of the other parties (if you even showed up to those), but he was glad he snuck away to the backyard now.

Jaemin turned back to look at the scene before him, full of shrieks and shouts from partygoers as they danced off-beat to the blasting music. He almost didn’t notice the ultimate bastard, Yuta Nakamoto, walking over with his eyes set on not Jaemin, but you. Yuta only seemed to see Jaemin when he neared the two and, despite the awkward pause in the air, held his hand up to fistbump him. Jaemin lazily returned it, not really processing until seconds later when Yuta had already passed him.

It wasn’t that Yuta and Jaemin had any bad blood between them. Rather, Jaemin found the older boy quite fun to be around, and on top of that, he was a really supportive and caring teammate. However, when it came to parties, Yuta tended to be a lot more high-energy than Jaemin was.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yuta crooned deviously, standing over you with his hands shoved in his pockets. He crouched down so he was at eye-level with you, holding onto the arm of your chair. “Care to dance with me?”

“Yuta Nakamoto,” you drawled, a smile appearing on your lips. “I’m good over here, but you go have fun.”

Yuta stood up again, a cat-like grin spreading from ear-to-ear across his face as he stepped back toward the pool. “You’re gonna miss out, Y/N. You cool with that?”

The smile never left your lips as you rolled your eyes at him. Yuta turned to dive into the pool, making Jaemin’s nose scrunch as the splash was big enough to get water on his clothes. When Yuta surfaced, he smoothed his hair back and wiped the excess water from his face. He caught your eye again, winking before swimming toward Jungwoo and splashing him, leaving you shaking your head and chuckling.

“You two close?” Jaemin asked in a mumble, not quite sure where he was going with the sudden conversation.

You were shocked momentarily, but smiled when you looked over at Jaemin. “Let’s just say he wants to get in my pants but I find the age gap inappropriate.”

Jaemin snorted. “Really? How old are you?”

��Nineteen.”

Jaemin rose a brow. He was just a year older than you but not so far off from Yuta. He hadn’t seen many college students be so conscious of a legal age difference of a year or two. After all, nearly everyone was an adult anyway.

“That’s not so far off from Yuta,” he told you.

You hid a smile, nearly going unnoticed under the dim light, but Jaemin had just caught it in time. “He’s like, my brother’s age,” you replied. “It’s just weird.”

Jaemin didn’t really get it, but he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He was an only child so he didn’t really think his opinion was valid anyway. Yet, he must have been looking at you weird because you bit your lip and shrunk under his gaze. Jaemin swallowed and turned back to look down at his feet, trying to get his head out of the clouds, but the buzz was still too strong.

He couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “What if it was me?”

“Huh?”

He wasn’t looking at you but he could feel your gaze boring into him. Jaemin wanted to melt into a puddle then and there. He was never the type to make a move like that, usually expecting girls to approach him, but now that he did, his skin was crawling with shame. Although, he figured it wouldn’t be too bad if he ended the night in bed with you.

Jaemin worked up the courage to turn his gaze to you. “I’m a year older than you. Would you be down if it was me?”

“Yeah,” you admitted bluntly, causing the tips of Jaemin’s ears to go red. “But I don’t know you, so…”

“Do you want to?” he asked, then clarified, “Get to know me, I mean.”

The two of you were silent for a moment, and it was far more deafening than the booming party around them. Jaemin’s gaze dropped from your face to look back at the college students wading around in the pool. Someone must have messed with the pool because it had started to fill up with bubbles, making the crowd cheer louder. Entranced, Jaemin nearly didn’t notice you when you were standing right over him. He arched a brow at you, scooting back a little out of shock.

“Do you want to get out of here then?”

You were smiling coyly and Jaemin didn’t have the willpower to resist anymore. He stood up, looking around for Jeno, before turning to you and nodding. Everyone was so consumed with the pool foaming up that it would be easy for them to escape from the backyard.

“I’m way too drunk to drive, but we can go for a walk,” Jaemin suggested, leading her out through the backyard fence. He had escaped from there countless times, only for Jeno to drag him back, but this time, Jeno was preoccupied.

Yet, something unsettled him about not informing his best friend, so he decided to shoot him a quick text.

jaemin: i’ll see u back home, i’m with a girl lol

annoying jeno: deadass? have fun

Now, at least Jaemin had one thing off his chest.

“So what’s your deal?” Jaemin asked you as he tried to focus on walking in a straight line. “You have guys like Yuta Nakamoto lining up for you and you’re passing up my boy?”

“If he’s your boy then why are you trying to make a pass at me?” you shot back, grabbing his arm to provide leverage when he stumbled.

“Touché,” Jaemin grumbled. “It’s not like he was scoring, so I might as well shoot my shot.”

“Did you score?”

The corner of Jaemin’s mouth twitched. “That’s for you to decide, isn’t it?”

Mutual attraction was such a strange feeling because the sexual tension was there and so loud. Granted, about 90% of it came from Jaemin, but something about the way you were still holding onto his arm and laughing at his stupid jokes made him feel like something was going to happen tonight.

“We should stargaze,” you offered, pointing at a grassy hill behind a park the both of you were passing by. Jaemin nodded in response, so you dragged him by the arm to the chosen location.

Stargazing meant laying down, and laying down meant not having to focus on walking in a straight line anymore, so it sounded absolutely heavenly to Jaemin right now. Somehow, he felt like such an amateur right now. No girl had ever asked him to lay down and stargaze with him; they always just skipped to the bedroom fun.

You let go of Jaemin to lay down on the grass, positioning yourself like a starfish before patting the space next to you and then moving your hands to rest on your stomach. You looked entranced with the stars above you, but the moment Jaemin laid down next to you, you turned to him, catching him off-guard. Jaemin’s eyes flickered from you to the sky above.

“The stars are beautiful,” he said weakly.

He couldn’t even see the fucking stars.

“Damn, I thought you were gonna call me beautiful for a second,” you teased, nudging his shoulder lightly.

“You wish,” Jaemin said with a light snort, swallowing thickly. “There’s no way I’m calling a girl that over my dead body.”

He was a terrible liar. It was clear when Na Jaemin was feeling lustful. His eyes would turn half-lidded and his voice would drop a few octaves. Right now, all of that was happening along with his fingers twitching at his sides. You were looking back up at the sky when he turned his head to look at you, and god, you were so pretty.

“Girls must come running for you,” you told him, “otherwise I really can’t figure out the ego.”

“That’s the problem when you’re a star basketball player and devilishly handsome.” Jaemin grinned, folding his arms behind his head. “You turn out like me.”

“How mortifying.”

“I know, right?” Jaemin turned onto his side for a brief moment to look at you. “How come I’ve never seen you around before. I’m sure I would’ve remembered…”

“Because I’m beautiful?” you offered.

Jaemin groaned, pink dusting his cheeks. “Why are you so fixed on that?”

You laughed in response while Jaemin just stared at the heartstopping curve of your lips. He felt himself grow hot, anticipation mixed with the weight of the situation. He had never been the type to feel so jittery around a girl, but here he was, a touch anxious because he was afraid of doing something wrong.

“That’s Orion’s Belt there,” you pointed out. “Can you see Betelgeuse?”

You turned to look at Jaemin to see if you had his attention, but did a double-take upon realizing that you, in fact, had his full attention. His eyes were directly on you, not the night sky above. The both of you were so painfully close, and Jaemin couldn’t resist when he reached over to brush a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“I can’t see the stars,” he mumbled, his large hand moving to cup your cheek. When your gazes were locked, he caressed your cheek with his thumb gently and leaned in to kiss you.

Well, he was about to kiss you until he felt your finger pressing against his lips.

“I’m down for whatever,” you told him sweetly, “but I don’t kiss on the first date.”

Jaemin wasn’t sure what to make of that. Sure, he found it a little weird, but he could see the reasoning behind it. You were probably one of those people who saved your kisses for something special—whatever that meant. Honestly, Jaemin didn’t really care about the significance, but he did know it would be amplified if he found “the one.”

“So this is a date now?” he asked, amused.

“Somewhat.”

Jaemin huffed lightly and leaned back, letting his hand retract back to his side. “Down for whatever? Even sex?”

You raised a very attractive eyebrow at him, making Jaemin short-circuit for a split second. “If you play your cards right,” you said airily, your voice all light and fluffy.

“Down for whatever but the offer isn’t extended to anyone over the age of twenty-one.”

You punched his shoulder hard this time. “Bite me.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Whatever made Jaemin’s confidence swell was taking over fast. In seconds, Jaemin propped himself up with his elbow, using his free hand to brush your hair to the side and tilting your neck so he could have easier access to it.

To test the waters, Jaemin nipped at your supple skin, earning a hitch in your slowed breathing that encouraged him to do more. Jaemin left open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking harshly with each one. He licked his lips when he pulled away to look at your neck. You were tough to bruise but he loved a challenge. He maneuvered his body over you so he could indulge himself further, holding himself up with his forearms.

Jaemin dipped under your chin again, ravishing the side of your neck that he targeted. He littered the column of your neck with dark hickeys, smirking against your skin upon the sight. You were a squirming mess under him, tugging at his hair and bucking your hips up against his. Jaemin grunted softly, his hands pushing your hips down so you could no longer tempt him.

You wrapped your hands around him, one hand sliding up the nape of his neck to curl your fingers in his hair. Hands weren’t normally something that made Jaemin weak, but yours were driving him crazy with one in his hair and the other bunching up the fabric of his shirt.

He cupped the apex of your jeans, smug as you whined at his touch, yearning for more. Jaemin’s free hand grazed your waist before he lowered it to your hip. He pulled away from your neck to meet your gaze, biting his lip at your lustful expression.

“Can I?” he asked, pressing down slightly against your apex.

You nodded, about to say something but got cut off when Jaemin moved his hand down and palmed your clothed clit. Jaemin smirked once he heard the soft sigh falling from your lips. His breathing got heavier, mixing with yours as he started fumbling to unbutton your jeans.

You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Jaemin…”

Jaemin swallowed hard and tugged your jeans down your hips a little. He felt like he was losing control with every touch. He just wanted to hold you in his arms and spend the rest of the night with you, and it was impossible to shake off that feeling when you were looking at him like that.

He playfully snapped the waistband of your panties, letting out a chuckle when your face twisted up and you pushed at his chest. Then, you drew him closer again and guided his hand down your pants. Jaemin took a shaky breath when he felt how wet you were. It filled him with pride, of course, but he had suddenly felt so nervous. He had hooked up with girls before, but this felt weird to him. Different, to an extent. They were just going through the motions, but he was struck with some strange feeling that he didn’t want to mess up or do something wrong. It was like his first time all over again when he had no idea what he was doing.

His silent cry for help was answered with rain.

“Jesus, it’s raining now?” Jaemin asked with a disapproving huff, pulling his hand out of your pants. He wondered if the people in Jaehyun’s backyard were going to move back inside or keep partying through rain and storm.

“It is?” You frowned and reached a hand over him to catch some raindrops. “You make a nice umbrella, Na Jaemin.”

“How kind of you,” Jaemin replied, a bit distracted by the rain pelting his back. “Should we make a run back to Jaehyun’s or do you want to, like…”

“Do I want to do it outside in the rain?” you asked, quirking a brow at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Worth a shot.”

Jaemin hauled himself up to his feet, holding a hand out for you so you could stand. You started patting down your clothes and fixing your fly. Jaemin did the same, making sure he looked presentable but he kept quiet about the dark hickey on the side of your neck. He squinted up at the drizzle of rain from the sky.

Cockblock, Jaemin thought bitterly.

Yet another distraction came in the form of a text message. Specifically, a text message from Lee Jeno.

annoying jeno: i’m going back to the apartment and ik ur with a girl but i left the keys at home so pls open the door

“Son of a bitch,” Jaemin grumbled to himself. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked at you when he noticed your questioning stare. Jaemin ran his hands down your arms, then held your waist gently. “I have to go.”

“Go?” you asked him, startled.

“Yeah,” Jaemin replied with a sigh, not wanting to divulge how idiotic his roommate was. “Can I get your number?”

This perked you right up, thankfully. Jaemin was satisfied as he watched you enter your phone number in his phone. This almost made him feel better about having to leave you alone to walk back to Jaehyun’s house in the rain.

Scratch that. He still felt like a piece of shit.

Jaemin slept off the party rather well.

He was in a bit of a mood, however, seeming tired and cranky in the morning. He had nearly thrown his phone at Jeno’s face when his best friend tried to shake him awake in the morning. It was a miracle that he showed up on time for his lecture. Around the afternoon, he received a text from you and was far more awake and alert after that. By the time he got to basketball, though, he was in a much better mood.

That is, until Jaehyun called for a team meeting.

The basketball team members were all sitting on the bleachers, waiting for a pissed-off Jaehyun to speak. Jeno picked at his nails next to Jaemin while YangYang in front of them was fiddling with the basketball. Jaehyun was only ever serious during games, but now his anger showed in a subtle and scary way that even Taeyong was a bit shaken by the change in his mood.

“Now, I’m going to say this once and you all better listen up carefully,” Jaehyun said in a low, dangerous voice. “If anyone—and I mean anyone—lays a hand on my little sister, then I will make sure you look uglier than you already are.”

Taeyong whistled lowly, impressed.

“Yuta,” Jaehyun continued, eyes narrowing at the older boy, “this message was inspired by you.”

“Received, reflecting, and apologizing,” Yuta said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll back off, Captain.”

“Good,” Jaehyun replied curtly as Yuta and Taeyong started to banter playfully over the topic.

Jaemin was unsettled. Jaehyun was upset over someone going after his younger sister? Now, Yuta was a flirt, but he recalled him pining for you last night and there was no way you were Jaehyun’s sister, right?

“Hey, Jeno.” Jaemin nudged the boy with his elbow. “Who exactly is Jaehyun’s sister?”

“Isn’t it Jeong Y/N?” he answered.

Goodbye world, was Jaemin’s first thought.

Yuta was flirting with you last night, but Jaemin straight-up nearly fingered you and—oh god, the hickey. Jaemin was at the end of his line right now, and if you said anything to Jaehyun, he was sure he was going to get his ass beat. He was starting to regret giving up his non-hookup life because of you; the only person Jaemin was flirting with now was Death.

“You good?” Jeno’s brows were knitted in concern.

“Jeno.” Jaemin swallowed down the dry lump in his throat. “Remember how I told you I was with a girl last night?”

“Yeah?” Jeno asked, searching Jaemin’s eyes for an answer. He found it rather quickly, eyes widening and voice dropping to a whisper. “Oh my god.” His gaze flickered from Jaemin to Jaehyun several times. “What are you going to do?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Jaemin whispered back. “We were both drunk. I’ll just ghost her subtly and she’ll forget about me. Easy.”

Jeno raised a brow at his plan. “Is hooking up with Jaehyun’s little sister worse than breaking her heart?”

“Oh please, it was one night. Give it a day or two. She won’t give a fuck.” Even though I kind of do, he added in his head.

The next time Jaemin saw you was after practice ended a few days later.

It had to be impossible that you could look any better than you did the last time he saw you, but here you were. It was unfair, really. Jaemin was a college student that was amped up with testosterone and hormones, and now he had no place to channel it. He was a second away from dragging you into an empty room and letting himself go with you, but then he remembered your older brother, and the horny thoughts dissolved into fear and shame.

“Ah, Jaemin,” you greeted with a cheerful smile.

Fuck, why did you have to be so cute?

Jaemin opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it and looked away from you. He leaned against the side of the bleachers and sighed while you were puzzled by his behavior. Although he wanted to ignore you, you were right there and the two of you were alone. Jaemin knew that the other guys wouldn’t be out of the locker rooms for another five minutes.

His gaze dropped to your hickey. It was so clear that you didn’t bother trying to cover it up, and the sight made Jaemin feel proud in some twisted way. Instinctively, he reached over and brushed his thumb over the sensitive bruise, smirking when you shivered.

“It looks good on you,” Jaemin complimented.

“Thanks.” You scoffed, then a mischievous glint shone in your eyes. “Maybe you should give me some more then.”

Jaemin stiffened, in a lot more ways than he should’ve. He gritted his teeth, willing the blood not to rush down all at once. He could not get horny at school when Jaehyun could walk out any second. And the older boy did. Jaemin backed away from you instantly, acting as if you were just some stranger passing by.

“I’ll pass,” he muttered under his breath and was sure you heard when he saw your face drop.

Great. Now he felt like an asshole.

“I gotta go,” he mumbled quickly before you could say anything else, moving past you to walk over to Jeno, high-fiving Jaehyun as he did. Jaemin didn’t have time to register your expression, but nevertheless, he felt like shit.

Jeno looked suspicious as Jaemin approached him. “Did you…”

“End it?” Jaemin finished for him. “I think so.”

“Can you just stop being a dick and talk to her?”

Ticked off, Jaemin took a deep breath. “If I talk to her, then one thing will lead to another, and Jaehyun—”

“Jaemin,” Jeno interrupted. “This isn’t about Jaehyun. This is about you and Y/N.”

Jaemin screamed out something incomprehensible and put his hands over his ears. “I can’t hear you, Lee Jeno. Can’t hear you over me getting ready to go to a party and get wasted tonight.”

“Na Jaemin, you’re my best friend but you’re an idiot.”

“I know that.” Jaemin made a face. “But it’s time for me to go and forget that.”

Jaemin never failed to forget how much he hated parties. He was starting to regret showing up in the first place. One of his teammates, Jungwoo, had let him into his frat party. Normally, guys were selectively chosen because the frat boys wanted more girls, but Jaemin was wasting his opportunity of getting in by doing absolutely nothing.

This was why he didn’t like drinking. He wasn’t even fun when he was drunk; Jeno was a social butterfly, Yuta was a flirt, but Jaemin would just wonder if plants existed and think about you.

“You look pissed off,” Jungwoo observed, holding out a red dixie cup to him. “Are you sure you want to party?”

“Yes,” Jaemin grumbled, taking the cup from him and downing it in seconds. “I need to let go.”

“Of?”

“Myself.”

Jaemin patted Jungwoo’s back firmly and moved to the kitchen to pour himself another shot. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He let himself get all worked up over some girl he barely even hooked up with. All he did was kiss your neck and here Jaemin was, looking like some cheap, heartbroken loser.

Oh, Jaemin thought out of the blue. I never told her she was pretty.

Jaemin took another shot, closing his eyes firmly as he thought of laying next to you again under the stars. Your lips looked so soft and kissable, your eyes so curious and alluring. He tried to push it away and focus on the party and getting drunk, but you kept appearing in his head like a mirage.

Let go, Jaemin, he told himself. Indulge yourself.

Jaemin leaned against the counter, bored. He sloshed the contents of his cup around, taking another shot when he felt the buzz start to wear out. A pretty brunette walked past him, flashing a coy smile.

He supposed she was one of the cheerleaders, or maybe she was a sorority girl. Either way, she was attractive and Jaemin could use the physical contact tonight. Part of him felt like it was the wrong thing to do, but all he could think about was how annoying it was to overthink every little thing he did.

Jaemin made his way over to her, tapping people’s shoulders and maneuvering his way through the cramped frat house. Everyone was clustered like schools of fish. Jaemin hated this kind of environment, but nevertheless, he put on a mask and did his best to fit in.

“Hey,” he greeted the girl once he found her. “I’m Na Jaemin.”

She smiled in that pretty way again. “I know you. You’re on the basketball team.” She looked embarrassed for a moment, flushing as she tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I bet you don’t know me, though.”

“I don’t,” Jaemin admitted, “but you have a gorgeous smile.”

She beamed at this. “Hey, could you hold my cup for a second?” she asked, holding out her red dixie cup to him.

You want me to hold your cup when you can barely hold a conversation? Jaemin thought distastefully but took the cup anyway.

He leaned against the kitchen counter and waited for her patiently, and when she came back, Jaemin could tell she had left to touch-up her makeup. He could also detect the faintest spritz of perfume, but he wasn’t exactly sure, so he leaned closer to make sure.

Jaemin wasn’t sure how they ended up making out in one of the empty bedrooms upstairs, but by the time she was taking off her bra, he wanted to leave. He did his best not to look as bored as he felt throughout the heavy petting and removal of clothing, but his biggest fuck-up was worse than he had expected.

Even Jaemin himself felt mortified by what had just escaped his lips. By the disgusted look in the girl’s eyes, he was fairly confident this was going to spread around the school. As Jaemin was trying to conjure up some excuse for his actions, the girl stood up and started gathering her clothes.

“I’m not Y/N,” she muttered and left him alone in the room.

“Well, shit,” Jaemin grumbled, running a hand through his tousled hair after she left. “Should’ve told me your name then.”

Jaemin laid back on the bed, putting his hands over his face. He was royally screwed at this point and wondered if he had a shot at redemption. The fact that you were still on his mind was messing with him. Even now, after totally embarrassing himself, he was still stuck on you. To avoid further embarrassment, he pulled out his phone to deflect whatever impulsive action was creeping up his limbs.

jaemin: ok jeno im texting u instead of drunk texting y/n and confessing how badly i wanna kiss her

y/n: hi this is y/n

Jaemin wondered what sin he committed in his past life to get this unlucky.

jaemin: shit

jaemin: don’t talk to me i’m drunk at a party

y/n: jaemin you texted me first

jaemin: ugh i wanna see u so bad

jaemin: wanna make it up to u

y/n: oh my

y/n: you’re a little too drunk for that

y/n: but send me the address. i’ll come over and take you home

Jaemin was 98.75% sure that this was, by far, the stupidest thing he could do. Nevertheless, he shared his address with you and waited for you to come to get him. He hung out with Jungwoo in the meantime, slinging an arm around the older boy’s shoulder and confessing his embarrassing hookup while Jungwoo was high as a kite.

When you texted Jaemin that you were outside the frat house, he opened the door almost instantly. Jaemin couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across his face when you were standing right in front of him. You opened your mouth to say something, but Jaemin cut you off.

“I might have… might have called out your name during a hookup,” he confessed, slurring his words while he tried to speak coherently.

You looked like you were deciding whether to think it was funny or be suspicious over the fact that he tried to hook up with someone and then texted you afterward. Eventually, you ended up laughing at his story, tutting at his actions. Jaemin walked by your side, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He closed his eyes in an attempt to come back to his senses, only to be dragged back onto the sidewalk by you because he was apparently straying into the road.

“How much did you drink?” was your first question and one that Jaemin wasn’t sure he had an answer for.

“Six? Seven shots?” Jaemin counted but lost track after he held up five fingers. “I haven’t gotten this hammered in a while.”

“You’ve been flighty,” you told him. “I thought I wasn’t going to hear from you again.”

Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “That was the plan.”

“What?”

End it now, Jaemin, the devious half of his mind instructed. Break it off before it’s too late.

“I don’t exactly do hookups anymore, Y/N,” he said, which wasn’t exactly a lie, but you happened to break that streak for him. But then came the lie. “I’m not looking for anything serious now either, and I’m sure you aren’t.”

They walked in silence onto the campus grounds, turning into the street where the student apartments were. You looked down at your feet, a little more disappointed than Jaemin had expected. More than that, it looked as though you were embarrassed.

Cue Na Jaemin feeling like a douchebag, which he was.

“Aren’t you the one who asked if I wanted to get to know you?” you asked him, brow arched.

Jaemin panicked, his words trapped in his throat for a second. Well, you got him there. He didn’t have a good excuse that made him sound less of a dick. Although, he was already probably about to be blacklisted from your life pretty soon, so it didn’t really matter.

“I was drunk,” Jaemin said as his brain was trying to throw random words at him. “I didn’t know what I was thinking.”

They made it to Jaemin’s apartment, which was thankfully on the first floor because he didn’t think he could stand an awkward elevator ride with you. You didn’t look at Jaemin once, but it didn’t seem as though you were angry. Rather, you looked confused, but Jaemin swallowed down his guilt and took a step back once they were at his door.

“Besides,” he continued shamelessly to deliver the final blow, “you always have Yuta.”

You rolled your eyes at him and stormed off at once after those words. Jaemin was left alone, still looking down at his feet. He let out a long, dragged-out sigh, hitting his head back against the solid wood of his door.

“Idiot,” he scolded himself.

It took Jaemin a whole week and a half to get over you.

Even then, he didn’t really get over what happened. He just stopped blaming himself for it in front of Jeno and internalized everything else. Talking to Jeno didn’t really help, anyway, because Jaemin would just be hit with the “I told you so” and then be silently judged by his best friend.

Jeno had gone home for the long weekend, though, so Jaemin could finally mope about his apartment without Jeno smacking him upside the head and calling him a loser. Although Jaemin agreed with that, he was tired of remembering how shitty of a person and it was a constant reminder of how he treated you.

Although, he didn’t expect that reminder to physically manifest when he saw you in the hallway of his apartment on Friday night.

“Y/N?” he blurted out impulsively.

Jaemin had just decided to get something from the vending machine, not expecting to see you when he was standing in front of his doorway in his grey sweatpants and lack of shirt. His hair was bedraggled from staying in bed all day after his morning lecture ended. In short, he wasn’t exactly presentable and this wasn’t the look he wanted you to see.

“Jaemin,” you said softly, looking a bit startled. “I was just leaving my friend’s place.”

“Look—”

“It’s fine, Jaemin.” You managed a small smile for him. “There’s no hard feelings, okay? Water under the bridge.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said, biting your lip afterward. “I just hope you’re not one of those guys who ghosts the girl if they don’t get sex out of it.”

Jaemin could feel the ice in your tone but brushed it off. “Honestly, I don’t care about sex that much.”

“Then what do you care about?”

Jaemin fixed his gaze on you, narrowing his eyes. He should have been grateful that you didn’t take it too personally and had forgiven him, but something was off. He didn’t doubt your reasons for being here, but an undercurrent of desire was definitely still there.

His morals were bouncing around his skull, warring with each other. Jaehyun was yelling at him to stop, but you were also there, and so fucking pretty. You wanted him, and he wanted you—it was almost perfect if it weren’t for your overprotective older brother who Jaemin respected too much. Then again, Jaemin had been shouldering too much guilt over the past week. He was sure he could handle some more.

What Jaehyun didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

The hallway was empty, doused with lingering sleep. The world was dark outside but under the dim, flickering hallway light was you. And Jaemin was at his limit; he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Jaemin?” you asked, and something inside him snapped.

He grabbed your hands first before pushing you up against the wall and sealing his lips over yours. Your face morphed into a shocked expression, only making Jaemin amused as he pinned your hands up and over your head. Your lips were so warm and soft, molding against Jaemin’s lips perfectly. He felt your hands wrap around his neck to draw him closer, inciting a soft groan from the back of his throat. It was kind of pathetic that he was already hard, and he was sure you were aware of it by how he was pressed up against your lower body.

Jaemin picked you up effortlessly, scooping you into his arms by your thighs. You let out a little shriek and grabbed onto his shoulders, wrapping your legs around his torso at his encouragement. Jaemin took you into his room, kicking the door closed with his foot before heading to his room and dropping you on his bed.

He had never actually let a girl into his room, so this was a first. Somehow, seeing you on his own bed was so arousing, and he had half a mind to just take you then and there. Jaemin made you sit at the edge of the bed while he stood between your legs, hands on your thighs. You looked confused for a moment, but let Jaemin run his hands up and down your thighs.

You and Jaemin should not be in bed together. Under no circumstances should the two of you even be acquainted in the slightest. The fact that you two met was all one big, cosmic coincidence, but sometimes the stars loved fucking around with human affairs.

“I told you I had to make it up to you,” Jaemin said in a low voice, running his thumb across your bottom lip. “You don’t have to forgive me but I can’t keep being a coward.”

“A coward? More like a douchebag,” you told him, holding his wrist so you could bite the tip of his finger as you looked up at him through your lashes. “But glad you came to your senses.”

“So you forgive me then?”

You smiled, all innocent and pure, unlike your words. “Not unless you make it up to me.”

Jaemin dropped his gaze down to your shorts, eyeing them for a moment before he started tugging them down. You raised your hips to help him take your shorts off, followed by your panties. Jaemin nearly sighed at the sight of you; you were so gorgeous and so ready for him. He wanted to completely blow your mind.

Then, the nerves got to Jaemin again.

“Y/N,” he started, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can just cuddle or something.”

“Na Jaemin, if you don’t make me cum, I will scream,” you warned.

“Yeah?” Jaemin chuckled at your reaction. “I think you’re going to scream either way, though.”

“Shut up.”

Jaemin laughed, brushing your hair out of your face. He caressed your cheek, rubbing slow circles with his thumb before he dragged it down to your jawline. A small pout appeared on your lips and he ran his thumb over your bottom lip again as if he could wipe your pout away.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” Jaemin said.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, Jaemin plunged his finger in you, thumb quickly finding purchase on your clit and rubbing in slow, languid circles. He wasn’t very satisfied by your shell-shocked silence, so he added a second finger to get you moaning and squirming at his actions.

You gasped when Jaemin curled his fingers, and he relished the dazed expression on your face. He watched your eyelashes flutter and eyelids droop as he scissored his fingers in you, earning him blissful moans from your pretty lips. One of your hands was gripping the sheets at your side while the other was gripping Jaemin’s shoulder tightly. He knew he was doing a good job by the way your walls clenched around his fingers, and it made him swell with pride.

“You’re such an asshole,” you whimpered out, moaning again as he curled his fingers in you.

“Then why do you still want me?” Jaemin hissed. “You should have just hated me. I would have been fine if you weren’t so fucking perfect.”

You cried out as he plunged another finger in you. “Shit, you’re just—oh god.” Jaemin could tell you were at your peak, so he pulled his fingers out of you immediately, smirking at how distressed you looked.

Jaemin popped his fingers in his mouth, sucking off your juices. “You taste so good, princess.”

You scowled at him. “F-finish me off, at least,” you pleaded.

Jaemin gripped your thighs. “Oh, trust me, I will.”

Jaemin lowered himself and met your eyes before he leaned forward and sealed his lips over your clit, sucking harshly on the ball of nerves. You were so sweet and so wet, but what made Jaemin go crazy was the way the both of you locked eyes while he was between your legs. He let out a groan that vibrated against you.

He licked a strip along your slit, pleased with his reward of pants and moans from you. Your thighs squirmed around him so he gripped them harder and moved his hands up to your hips so he could eat you out with more vigor.

Jaemin snaked his tongue along your folds and you were gone. Already edged from being fingered, you were at your peak already. Back arching off the bed and hips squirming, Jaemin tongued your clit as he coaxed you into your orgasm. By the sound of your moans and cries, he felt like he was going to cum in his pants any second if you didn’t stop. You released over his tongue so easily, and Jaemin lapped it up as you made an effort to catch your breath.

At first, Jaemin was over the moon. He hooked up with you and wanted more. You were so enticing and Jaemin couldn’t get enough of you. Then came the crushing guilt. It registered a bit late, but it was all the more painful. He had just eaten out his friend’s little sister and couldn’t help the fact that he wanted her so badly.

“Not bad, Jaemin,” you breathed out, fixing your hair as your thighs still stiffened and twitched every now and then. “Is this the part where you push me away and ghost me for another week?”

Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, battling frustration and shame. “Look,” he started, “the reason I pushed you away was because you didn’t tell me your brother is Jeong Jaehyun!”

“Oh.” You blinked at him. “Yeah, he’s my brother. Is that a problem?” Jaemin let out a heavy sigh and you raised a brow at him. “You got a crush on him or something?”

Jaemin’s expression soured. “No! He’s my friend and teammate, Y/N. There’s an unspoken bro code between us men.”

You rolled your eyes. “Here we go.”

“Rule number one of bro code states that sisters are completely off-limits,” Jaemin said. “And, Y/N, we just pushed that limit.”

“You know, in girl code, we ask the friend for permission,” you offered.

“Jaehyun rounded us up at practice and told us that if anyone lays a hand on his little sister, he’s going to kill them,” Jaemin said. “I’m too young to die.”

You stood up to push Jaemin down by his shoulders, sitting him on the edge of the bed. Jaemin’s breath got caught in his throat when you sat on his lap, right where his bulge was painfully tented beneath his sweatpants. You traced his v-cut abs, making Jaemin shiver in response. He held your hips and swallowed thickly. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going. If you were about to ride him, he was sure he could die a happy man.

“Jaemin, my brother doesn’t control my life, so he’s not killing you over anything, okay?” you reassured him, then leaned in closer, nibbling on his earlobe. Jaemin shivered at the contact, tightening his grip on you. “But, if you’re so worried about it, then we could sneak around.”

A guttural groan escaped Jaemin when you rolled your hips against his. Were you teasing him? Because it was hard for him to think and this distraction wasn’t helping. Either way, all he could think about was making you cum again and seeing that delicate look on your face as you crumbled in front of him.

“Sneak—sneak around?” Jaemin stammered, mouth going dry when you started taking off your shirt, and fuck, you weren’t wearing a bra. “Huh?”

“Jaemin,” you said slowly, smirking as you traced a finger along his jawline. “If you don’t want Jaehyun to catch us, we can just meet up secretly.”

If this was a game of cat and mouse, there was a clear power difference right now; Jaemin felt more like the mouse while you were the cat.

Jaemin’s eyes darkened a bit. “Fuck yeah,” he mumbled, hand grazing your bare skin. His eyes devoured the way you looked, and you wanted to squirm at the hungry look on his face. It was kind of embarrassing how badly Jaemin wanted to skip this whole conversation and fuck you into oblivion.

“Jaemin,” you called again, noting how his eyes flitted from your lips to your eyes.

He gave up. “I’ll be honest. I have no idea what we’re talking about but if we’re keeping this going between us, I’m all for it.”

“Good answer,” you hummed and pressed your lips to his.

You were a damn good kisser, Jaemin observed. He didn’t notice it before, but you had on some sort of fruity chapstick on that was making his head go fuzzy. The taste was addicting, and thank god you bit down on his lower lip because he wasn’t sure if he could handle another second without his tongue in your mouth.

He pulled away for a moment so he could push you down onto the bed, getting over you. Jaemin sighed deeply as you skimmed your hands down his bare chest, fingers tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants.

“You know, I lied that night,” you told Jaemin, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m not usually down for whatever, but I wanted to try my chance with you.”

Jaemin tutted at you, circling a finger around your nipple. “You shouldn’t have lied, Y/N,” he said, making you whimper when he pinched your hard nipple. “Could’ve stroked my ego a little more.”

“Sorry, but I’m not here to stroke your ego, Jaemin,” you simpered, choking over your words when Jaemin pressed open-mouthed kisses to your chest, eventually snaking his hot tongue across your nipple.

“You already are,” Jaemin murmured against your skin, littering hickeys as he kissed your chest. “Your reactions are so cute.”

Jaemin sucked on his fingers for a brief moment to provide some extra lubrication, not that you really needed it. He used his pointer and middle finger to rub against your slit, your whines growing needier as you became more and more aroused. After one more needy mewl from your lips, Jaemin had enough. He tugged his sweatpants and boxers down in one go, his hard cock slapping against his stomach once it was free.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned brokenly, eyeing the length of his cock.

“Such a good girl,” he crooned down at you, teasing his cock against your slit until you were a gasping, moaning mess under him. Then, Jaemin pulled away, clicking his tongue and grinning while you narrowed your eyes at him. “Condom,” he remembered.

Jaemin got off the bed to retrieve the silver packet from his nightstand, tearing it open with his teeth in one go. He caught you staring at how incredibly hung he was, smirking proudly as he slid the condom onto his shaft. He pumped it once for good measure and moved back onto the bed with you.

He stayed on his knees, angling your hips up so that they were positioned with his cock. You looked confused by the awkward position, but Jaemin melted away your worries with a powerful thrust into you. He groaned at how tight you were with your warm, wet walls clenching around him rhythmically.

Jaemin could tell he was hitting all the right spots by the broken moans that were escaping you when he pounded in you. His own growls were low and grating, relishing the way you felt around him. You were clutching his sheets so tight and bucking your hips so often that Jaemin had to use a hand to push your lower abdomen down, smirking as he felt his cock move in and out of you.

“You’re so big,” you gasped out, looking visibly frustrated at how you couldn’t hold onto him.

“Princess, I regret not doing this earlier,” Jaemin admitted with another rough thrust into you, making you sob out some distorted version of his name. “You feel so fucking good.”

“I’m close,” you choked out, and Jaemin kindly aided you by rubbing your clit as he brutally fucked you into the mattress.

You tucked your head into your shoulder, biting back your cries, so Jaemin grabbed your hair in a fistful and tilted it back so he could see your face. A shudder ran down his spine. Your expression was so perfect, so fucked in and glazed over.

“Shit,” he growled, voice raspy from arousal as you came undone in front of him.

His nimble fingers continued to work on your clit as you fell apart, moans ringing in his ears like a song. He followed you into your bliss, unable to hold back. He leaned over you and continued fucking you through your orgasm, holding you and groaning as he, too, released.

Jaemin stopped when he was done and spent. His arms buckled as they struggled to keep himself over you, and he could only pull out and collapse by your side. He muttered out a few curses, struggling to find the right words to say as he stared up at the ceiling. That felt good? No, too dry. I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like that? No, too possessive.

He settled with “you’re amazing” as his chest rose and fell in tune with yours.

“Likewise,” you breathed out and looked over at him. “I have to go home soon.”

Jaemin didn’t know what came over him, but he rolled over and wrapped his arms around you tightly. Normally, he wasn’t one for cuddling or aftercare, but he didn’t want you to go so soon. You relaxed under his touch as Jaemin drew you closer to his body, pulling the sheets over you both.

“Don’t go,” Jaemin whispered, tucking some hair behind your ear.

You turned to look at him, running your finger along his cheek tenderly. “Jaehyun’s gonna ask.”

Jaemin threw the sheets off of you and stood up quickly. “Have a safe trip back.”

It was the very next day when Jaemin hooked up with you again.

You had sent him a rather suggestive text, stating that you found it strenuous to walk after the previous night. In some sick and twisted way, Jaemin found this extremely hot and invited you over that night. Needless to say, you found it even more difficult to walk afterward.

The next day was the last day of the long weekend, so you spent nearly the entire day at Jaemin’s place before Jeno came home. Sure, you had sex once or twice then, but Jaemin really liked having you around. Even when you both weren’t exactly doing anything, your mere presence was comforting to him. In past hookups with other girls, he would always just get up and leave after the deed was done. However, with you, he was suddenly a sucker for aftercare.

Jaemin still felt like shit for going behind Jaehyun’s back and he was starting to question his stealth when Jeno came back home and discovered your bra on the couch.

“Oh, that’s where it was,” Jaemin said blankly, taking the bra from Jeno. “By the way, how was visiting your family?”

Jeno was still stuck on the bra, however. “Hold on,” he started, “whose bra is that?”

“Mine.”

“You wear bras?”

“What? No.” Jaemin made a face. “The fuck?”

“Na Jaemin, did you sleep with a random girl on our couch?”

“First of all, it wasn’t a random girl. It was Y/N,” Jaemin defended. “And secondly, we did it against the wall, actually. The couch was just a poor observer.”

“I don’t know if I should be impressed or disgusted,” Jeno replied, pondering over his best friend’s words. He glanced back at the wall and inched away from it. “Did you figure out what you’re going to do about Jaehyun?”

Jaemin grinned sheepishly. “I mean, what Jaehyun doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

“What happened to the Jaemin who was trying to ghost his sister?”

“He got laid.”

“This is so gonna backfire on you,” Jeno replied, shaking his head. “But I kind of want to watch it happen.”

“Dude,” Jaemin whined, rubbing his chin with his hand. “I broke the bro code so hard, but honestly, the sex is too good.”

“Jaemin, I don’t want to hear about your sexcapades, thanks.”

The next time Jaemin hooked up with you was almost an absolute disaster.

Keyword: almost.

“Jeno,” Jaemin warbled in a desperate cry, “I’m fucked. I’m absolutely fucked.”

“What’s up?” came the disinterested voice of his best friend who was sprawled out on the couch, flipping listlessly through a textbook.

“I need you to help me out,” Jaemin begged. “Y/N wants me to go over to her place but Jaehyun’s home.”

That was how Jaemin ended up behind your house, trying to hoist himself up onto a tree that was close to your window. Jeno was on the phone, keeping a lookout from his car that was parked on the street. This was, quite honestly, probably one of the stupidest things Jaemin had ever done because not only did he have a fear of heights, but he was risking his life just for his friend not to see him walking in the house.

There was something about hanging onto the branch of a tree for dear life that made a man question his pride.

“All this for some pussy,” Jeno tutted through his AirPods.

“Shut up, Jeno,” Jaemin muttered, a flush of heat rising to his cheeks. Truth be told, he just really wanted to see you, not that he would admit that.

He hauled himself onto one of the thicker branches that led to your window and inched his way along it to reach the windowsill. A frown crossed his lips as he reached out to knock on the glass. You told him you’d keep the window open for him, so why was it closed?

The answer was obvious, but it didn’t sink in until Jaehyun opened the window to see Jaemin dangling from a tree branch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, was all that was running through his mind. His head felt like it was going a thousand miles per second but the rest of his body was short-circuiting.

“Jaemin, what are you doing outside my window?” Jaehyun asked, looking absolutely perturbed.

“I’m, uh…” Jaemin paused to think while he could hear Jeno laughing at him through his AirPods. “Jeno and I wanted to prank you.”

“Jeno? Prank?” Jaehyun questioned. “Are you not here for a study session with Y/N?”

Jaemin stilled. He wasn’t sure he had any classes with you, but surely you must have made up this excuse to Jaehyun so that Jaemin could be in your house freely. Jeno’s laughing intensified as Jaemin blinked at his team captain.

“Right, well—”

“Jaemin, what are you doing there?” your sweet, innocent voice rang from Jaehyun’s door.

There was a mischievous glint in your eyes despite how concerned you tried to look. Jaemin saw right through you, though, and grimaced.

“Just… hanging out,” Jaemin grunted out as he tried to crawl in through Jaehyun’s window.

Jaehyun reached his hand out to help Jaemin and dragged him through the window with ease, so smooth that Jaemin pretended he didn’t hit his head against the side of the frame of the window as he was pulled inside. The tree branch bounced back to its original position, its leaves rustling wildly once Jaemin’s weight was off of them. Jaehyun helped Jaemin dust himself off and grabbed one of his shoulders firmly, using his free hand to pat his back.

“Jaemin,” Jaehyun said slowly, “use the door next time.”

“Got it,” Jaemin croaked out.

“We can go to my room and study, Jaemin,” you piped up, turning on your heel to head back to your room as soon as you were sure you had his attention.

“Right, um… see you, man,” Jaemin told Jaehyun, awkwardly following after you after Jaehyun returned the goodbye.

Jaemin had been to Jaehyun’s house for parties, but being there in the daytime was unnerving. He ended the call with Jeno, quickly texting him that he was safe before stuffing his phone and AirPods in his pockets. Jaemin turned the corner to see you sitting cross-legged on the floor of your room. A loud sigh escaped his lips before he made his way in, closing the door behind him.

“You’re paying for that,” he warned.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, a laugh falling from your lips just before Jaemin strode over, pushing you down onto the floor and hovering over you. You parted your lips to speak but whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as Jaemin swooped in and kissed you.

This is a terrible place to be doing this, the rational side of Jaemin’s brain provided, but then he was kissing you and it didn’t matter anymore.

Jaemin lost himself in the kiss as soon as he was tasting your fruity chapstick. He cupped your jaw, intoxicated by the way your lips felt against his. He was so dazed that he hardly noticed you unzipping his pants, tugging them down by his belt loops.

“Aren’t we studying?” Jaemin teased, brushing his nose against yours. He glanced over at the mess of books and papers at your table.

“Mm, do you want to study instead?” you asked, drawing him closer to you. “Pass up on this and read up on some cell division?”

“Fuck no.” Jaemin scoffed, dragging his nails up your thigh. “Spread those legs for me, angel.”

A mewl escaped your lips when you spread your legs because Jaemin immediately started palming your apex without missing a beat. The burst of pride that followed made him a little braver, a little less worrisome over your older brother.

“Take off your pants,” you breathed out, tugging once more at his waistband.

“No.” Jaemin moved off of you and hauled himself up to sit on your bed. “I want you to ride my thigh.” His eyes practically devoured the way you looked. “And keep the skirt on.”

You stood up, biting your lip as you moved to straddle his right thigh. Jaemin’s hands ran up and down your thighs, moving up to your hips eventually to rub slow circles with his thumb. His lips were attached to your neck almost immediately, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column.

You let a whimper slip from your lips and Jaemin started bouncing his leg steadily, his muscular thigh rubbing against your clit. He guided your movements with his hands as you rolled your hips against him. Jaemin flexed his thigh every once in a while and made sure to pull you down on him whenever he could make use of the friction.

Another moan from you and Jaemin sneered. “You’re getting off so well on my thigh, Y/N. Such a fucking tease but you react so easily.” You whined again and Jaemin shushed you. “Be quiet, princess. We don’t want to be walked in on, right?”

And, because the world hated Jaemin, Jaehyun decided to walk in.

“Y/N, can I come in for a second?” he called from outside the door.

In an instant, you practically flew off of Jaemin’s lap, scrambling back to your table and burying your nose in your biology textbook. There were a few long seconds of Jaemin silently communicating with you out of frustration. You had escaped just fine, but Jaemin just had to get a hard-on, and now that you were off his lap, it was far too obvious through his pants.

But you already told Jaehyun he could come in, so Jaemin put both hands over his crotch in a valiant (but stupid) effort to hide his boner while the door opened.

“I’m going to the store,” Jaehyun said, looking between you and Jaemin from the doorway. “Want anything?”

“No, we’re good,” you replied, but Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed on Jaemin, narrowing slightly.

“I’ll get going then, but are you good?” Jaehyun asked, gesturing at the awkward position Jaemin was in. “The bathroom’s across the hall if you need to go.”

Jaemin’s eyes flitted to yours to see an amused look on your face, and he could practically hear your voice bouncing in his skull: This is fun.

This wasn’t exactly Jaemin’s textbook dictionary definition of fun, however.

“Thanks,” Jaemin croaked out, looking down at his lap in shame. A flush of red crossed his cheeks and you barked out a laugh as soon as Jaehyun was gone. “Not funny,” he grumbled out.

An impish grin crossed your face as you asked, “Need me to take care of your problem?”

“Please,” Jaemin almost begged.

The moment you stood up, Jaemin was quickly trying to tug his pants down, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his boxers to take them off with his pants. This was awful in the absolutely best way possible because Jaemin’s hands felt clammy but then you were kneeling down in front of him, helping him take his pants off. You looked up at Jaemin when his hard cock curved up against his stomach. A breath escaped his lips like it had been punched out of him and he wondered if his eyes were as comically wide as they felt.

When the sound of Jaehyun closing the front door echoed, you grasped Jaemin’s painfully hard cock in your soft hands. Jaemin’s tongue felt like lead in his mouth. He couldn’t even ask you to do anything with all his bravado from earlier suddenly vanishing. So, he curled a hand in your hair, more for his own leverage.

Jaemin’s stomach rearranged itself to feel like some crazed etch-a-sketch rather than the human anatomy when he felt your lips wrap around his cock.

“Shit, that’s it,” he growled when you went down on him. He flushed all over, clear in the way his cock twitched in your mouth, and it made him feel like some silly, lovesick teenager. “Oh god, you feel so good with your mouth wrapped around my cock, princess.”

A sound of approval came from your throat, vibrating against the throbbing vein along Jaemin’s shaft and making him go crazy. You bobbed your head up and down, teasing him by going so slow to the point that it was nearly unbearable for Jaemin. He felt like a coil of fire was tightly woven inside him, ready to snap at any given moment.

“Fuck… don’t tease me—wait, are you asleep?”

Jaemin looked down to see you half-asleep on his cock, lips brushing against the vein along the side. Your eyes weren’t hooded but fluttered shut, head lolling to the side and your tongue grazing the underside of his head. A hiss escaped Jaemin’s lips at your teasing, but he felt more incredulous than turned on.

“I’m tired,” you said, “and you didn’t finish me off, so why should I finish you off?”

“Well, this is just unfair,” Jaemin replied with a frustrated huff as you pulled off of him. His gaze softened when he saw you rub your eyes, though. He fumbled for a moment, pulling his boxers and pants back up and tucking away the frustration of not getting his release. “You’re actually tired?”

“Kind of,” you admitted. “I’ve been studying my ass off all week for midterms.”

“Okay, well…” Jaemin faltered before scooting back on your bed until he was against the wall. “Let’s take a nap then.”

“Nap? Oh, so we—oh, okay,” you mumbled and Jaemin’s heart skipped a few beats when he saw you suck in your lower lip nervously.

You crawled into your bed and laid down, pulling the covers over them after Jaemin moved so he was right next to you. Jaemin had never exactly slept with a girl like this, but with you, his chest felt warm. It felt right. Without a word, he pulled you to his chest so you wouldn’t have to see how nervous you were making him feel, praying you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled to him.

And, because Jaemin was a loser who feared rejection and the reality that he was an actual human who felt real emotions, he pressed his lips to your head and whispered into your hair, “I like you.”

If you heard him or noticed, Jaemin wouldn’t have known because falling asleep was so much easier with you in his arms.

“You slept with her? Like, without sex?” Jeno asked Jaemin that night, to which he nodded. “You didn’t hook up with her at all?”

“Jaehyun walked in the first time and the second time… let’s not get into that,” Jaemin replied. “The point is, we fucking cuddled, Jeno.”

“That’s kinda weird.”

“Right?” Jaemin tugged a hand through his hair, letting out an aggravated groan. “Maybe I shouldn’t go to Jaehyun’s place on Friday.”

Parties were one thing, but at least once a month, the basketball team would hold bonding events for everyone to unwind and chill. Jaemin usually attended every event since he was close with all of the members, but Jaehyun’s house became dangerous territory now because of you. However, Jaemin was expected to take the place of team captain when Jaehyun graduated, so he knew it would be bad if he didn’t attend all the socials the basketball team held.

“Why? Can’t keep it in your pants?” Jeno teased.

Jaemin threw a pillow at him. “Fuck off.”

“It’s been postponed to the end of the month, anyway,” Jeno assured. “Jaehyun said he had a date this Friday or something.”

“Then I’m safe for now.”

It got silent for a moment before Jeno asked, “Are you catching feelings?”

Silence.

Did Jaemin like you? Sure, he mumbled it for himself to hear when he was holding you, which was pretty suspicious of him to do that if he didn’t actually have any feelings toward you. He perfectly understood the feeling at an intellectual level, but absorbing it emotionally was beyond his realm of understanding. Plus, there was no point in having feelings for someone if they didn’t reciprocate.

Right?

Jaemin only had a few crushes before, and the feelings were so surface-level that he started to wonder how many aspects of life he had missed out on because of his inability to grow close to people. That was why he had confined himself to the hookup culture because the “no strings attached” aspect was so appealing to him, but now it was backfiring because of you. It was so fucked up because Jaemin didn’t even want to fuck around with you anymore. Scratch that. He did, but he also wanted to hold your hand, go on dates, and kiss you until your fruity chapstick made him dizzy again.

You were great in bed, but what got Jaemin’s heart racing was the way you laughed when he made a lame joke and you couldn’t get over how terrible it was; the way you told stories with your hands, and your face would light up because you would get so excited; the way the food you made looked absolutely nauseating but, for whatever reason, it tasted amazing, and Jaemin could go on, but he was afraid he’d start melting in front of Jeno.

“No way,” Jaemin lied. “It’s just for the sex, that’s all.”

It wasn’t fair that you always showed up at the one place Jaemin was most vulnerable: basketball practice.

Truth be told, you were causing Jaemin problems well before you even arrived. Hell, you had been causing problems for the past three weeks. Not that Jaemin hated it, but he couldn’t keep it in his pants every time you dragged him to a blind spot or invited him to your place. There were also times where Jaemin would just simply walk with you, or talk about your day in bed, or just hold your hand and stroke your hair until you fell asleep.

Pretty weird for fuckbuddies.

Earlier in the day, Jaemin had run into you while he was walking to his biology lecture, and after some light conversation, he had you pinned up against the back of a building. He ended up getting a very noticeable hickey on his neck from you that he didn’t know existed until Jaehyun pointed it out during practice.

“Jaemin.” Jaehyun let out a low whistle and gestured to his neck. “Finally got over your weird celibacy phase?”

“What are you—”

“Nice hickey,” Yuta complimented while he was passing by, “finally got laid, huh?”

Only then did Jaemin realize that you had marked up his neck, and did so proudly. You knew people would see but you still went ahead and did it. Jaemin would’ve been mad but somehow, the thought of showing off something you caused turned him on.

Thankfully, you showed up when practice had ended and the others were heading into the locker room, all sweaty and tired. Absorbed in their own conversations, the rest of Jaemin’s teammates were focused on talking about their last play and looking forward to a cold shower. Jaemin, however, did a double-take when he saw you, nudging Jeno to keep going while he stayed back.

You really had no good reason coming to the basketball courts. It wasn’t like you or your big brother actually wanted to walk home together.

“I’m starting to think you come here to see me,” Jaemin said smugly, making his way over to you.

“Not even,” you replied, although your fazed look said otherwise. “But I appreciate the eye candy.”

Jaemin reached out to take your hands in his and pulled you toward him. You looked down at your feet, right foot circling around one of the stray basketballs that had been left behind during practice. Jaemin, however, had his eyes focused on you. He couldn’t get tired of looking at you, especially when you were wearing that cozy purple sweater that made him want to pull you into his arms.

Jaemin noticed your foot on the basketball and held your hands a little tighter as you put your weight on it to get your other foot on. You were shakily balancing on it, grabbing Jaemin’s hands tightly as a grin slowly spread across your face.

You’re too cute, was what Jaemin wanted to say.

“You’re still shorter than me even when you’re standing on a basketball,” he teased instead, one hand slipping around your waist to keep you steady.

You pouted. “I’m basically the same height as you now.”

“Really?” Jaemin smirked at your expression, moving closer so that his lips were at your forehead. He moved his hands so they were both holding your waist, keeping you planted on the basketball. “I think I still have an inch or two on you.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, but Jaemin was tilting your chin up and smiling at how you were visibly growing shy. “Jaemin, my brother might walk out any second.”

“Fuck your brother,” Jaemin murmured and kissed you.

People threw around the term “time slowed down” so casually, that Jaemin believed it was a silly hoax; however, he was starting to understand it. Each kiss he shared with you before felt so rushed, but now, everything around him didn’t matter anymore. It was like every fear, every concern he had was lost as he was lost in the taste of your lips.

Your hands cupped his face, deepening the kiss and making Jaemin nearly forget that you were barely balancing on a basketball. He tightened his hold around you when you pulled a hand away to run through his hair and god, he relished that feeling. When he desperately needed air again, Jaemin pulled away, nipping at your bottom lip cheekily as he did so.

He didn’t want to see your reaction, though, so he pulled you down from the basketball and hugged you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You were visually overwhelming, anyway, and Jaemin wasn’t too keen on seeing your reaction to his tenderness. Jaemin felt like such a melt for being this affected over a simple kiss, but all he wanted at the moment was to be closer to you.

“Jaemin?” you asked, shocked by his sudden intimacy.

“Shut up,” he murmured into your neck, “I just want to hold you right now.”

“Bruh.”

Jaemin didn’t process the fact that a third person was in the gym until it registered that the masculine voice couldn’t have been coming from you. On the bright side, the voice came from the one person who knew about whatever was going on between you and Jaemin. He then wondered why he was starting to become an optimist.

You and Jaemin both pulled away quickly like repelling magnets. There was a flicker of panic in your eyes, seeming to cool down when you noticed that Jaemin wasn’t freaking out. It was quite devastating for Jaemin to come to realize that he was the standard for what to worry over.

Jaemin, not sparing you a glance, walked over to where his best friend was standing and shoved him, not straying from his direct route to the locker room.

“You have some explaining to do,” Jeno muttered before Jaemin passed him.

“Fuck off, Jeno.”

Jeno flashed a sheepish grin at you before turning back to follow Jaemin, patting him firmly on the back to tease him. Jaemin, however, was unsettled. Whatever he felt for you was moving past sexual attraction to something much deeper, and he wasn’t sure if he could suppress it any longer.

You truly were the cat, and although Jaemin refused to believe it, you had already caught him.

Jeno somehow managed to stay quiet about what had happened between you and Jaemin until after they reached their apartment. Jaemin almost believed he was going to pretend like he didn’t see anything, but it would be laughable to think that Lee Jeno wouldn’t mock him about it.

“That’s the thing with fuckbuddies,” Jeno explained as he shrugged off his coat, “someone’s gonna catch feelings eventually.”

“Thanks, Jeno,” Jaemin spat, tone laced with sarcasm. “You never cease to make me feel like shit.”

“So you admit that you caught feelings?”

It was like an arrow through a bullseye, not that Jaemin was going to admit to that, but the thought of him potentially catching feelings for you was terrifying. It was even more frightening because he probably already did. This was supposed to be the time where Jaemin blanched and would become shockingly avoidant around you, but he was waiting for those instincts to kick in rather than the desperate urge to run over and kiss you.

But, moreover, screw Lee Jeno for majoring in neuroscience. His best friend studying the human brain and its cognition was the worst thing that could have ever happened to Jaemin.

Jaemin paused, hesitating before he spoke, “No… I’m just worried that one of us will.”

Jeno raised a brow at him. “Whatever you two were doing was not normal for fuckbuddies.”

“It’s called hugging, Jeno. It’s not my fault you have the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

Jaemin moved to sit on the couch, turning his back to Jeno and hugging a pillow as he shrunk back into the cushion. But Jeno knew that Jaemin always listened to what he had to say. It was a natural instinct by now. Although Jaemin would rather die than say it aloud, his best friend always gave the best advice even though it was probably not what Jaemin wanted to hear.

“Are you okay?” Jeno asked instead.

Jaemin froze. He was never any good at expressing himself. He presented himself as a simple man on the outside, but he was really just layers of multitudes. But, sometimes, your mere attention was like uncut cocaine to him, and then Jaemin would wonder if he really was simple.

“I’m fine,” Jaemin muttered back.

“You’re good at being fine, aren’t you?”

Jeno fastidiously fixed his hair before he retreated to his room. Jaemin was surprised by how he cut the advice session this time and left Jaemin to his own thoughts.

Exhausted, Jaemin stared at his lock screen. It was a picture of you and him at a park. Ducks in the pond. You caught off-guard with hair in your mouth. Jaemin with a smile brighter than the sun. Who the fuck took selfies with girls they fucked on the down-low? And who the fuck set them as their wallpapers? Apparently, Jaemin did.

He was sick.

Maybe Jeno was right, but Jaemin refused to accept that possibility because that would make him even more disgusted with himself.

He could only think of one thing and it was how he was in love with you.

Sex was one thing, but love? The number one rule of best friendship was probably don’t fucking fall in love with your best friend’s sister.

Furthermore, Jaemin didn’t know how to act around you now. In the conspectus of Things That Could Go Wrong in his brain, he hadn’t anticipated actually falling for you. He should’ve taken your godsent looks and heavenly laugh as a red flag that first night because now he was addicted.

It wasn’t like Jaemin had absolutely zero experience with girls, but usually, he just went with it. Being the one chasing after you was mentally taxing and the thought of you possibly not wanting him back was unthinkable. Then again, it was pretty clear that it was mutual between the two of you, but Jaemin was confident that you were a breath away from snapping at him for his inconsistency.

He was the one that pushed you away, after all. A sudden transition from resisting to wanting you completely was sure to freak you out, so Jaemin was stuck at a crossroads.

After a few Google searches of asking the internet if he caught feelings and an episode of self-denial and self-loathing, Jaemin decided it was high time for him to call you and tell you how he felt. That, or he was going to panic and break things off before he got emotionally invested.

Before he could do either, Jeno walked back to the living room, putting his coat back on. He looked dressed up as if he was going out somewhere, and Jaemin’s suspicions were confirmed when he went to get his shoes.

“What’re you all dressed up for?” Jaemin asked, sitting up straight again.

“Jaehyun’s house.” Jeno raised a brow at him. “It’s Friday.”

God, if you’re out there, Jaemin thought, defeated. Screw you and your son. Amen.

Jaemin had to psych himself into the proper state of mind for tonight.

That all went to shit, however, when he saw you sitting in the living room, laughing at something Yuta had said.

“Oh my god,” Jeno said in a low voice when he saw Jaemin frozen in the doorway. “Tell me you’re not jealous right now.”

“Piss off,” Jaemin spat, kicking off his shoes at the entrance. “It’s nothing like that.”

Except that it was exactly like that. Jaemin wasn’t the jealous type, but right now, his blood was roiling in his gut. Deep inside, he knew it was probably nothing to worry about, but the way you smiled around Yuta was pissing him off. Then, he realized that he had no relationship with you that gave him any right to stop Yuta from flirting with you.

And then, you turned to see Jaemin in the doorway and smiled at him.

Oh no, Jaemin thought in complete devastation. She’s pretty.

“Y/N, tonight’s for the basketball team,” Jaehyun told you from the living room, making a motion with his hands to signal you to leave. “Go to your room.”

“You’re such a nosy older brother,” YangYang chimed in, nudging a chuckle out of Jaehyun. “But yeah, Y/N, Friday nights are for the boys.”

“I know, I know,” you said with a laugh. “I’ll go now. I was just grabbing some water.”

Jaemin was still frozen stiff at the doorway as you grabbed a half-empty bottle of water from the kitchen counter (despite Jeno’s several attempts to get him to move) and then walked to the staircase to Jaemin’s left. But then you grabbed Jaemin by the front of his shirt and started dragging him upstairs with you. He barely registered it all happening in the span of a few seconds, but he was able to catch Jeno saying he’d tell the others that Jaemin was running late.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Jaemin whispered harshly, although he still followed you into your room and let you lock the door.

This was far too risky. Not only was Jaehyun home, but the entire basketball team was downstairs.

You started tying your hair up and Jaemin gulped, realizing where this was going. “Do you want me to suck you off or not?” you asked, smiling.

“Say no more,” Jaemin breathed out, unzipping his pants hastily.

He sat down on your bed, letting you tug his boxers down, your eyes full of mirth. Jaemin felt so pathetic when his cock twitched as soon as you wrapped a hand around its girth, but he was ready to put his pride to the side for once.

Jaemin was about to rasp out something but then you took his head in your mouth and a sudden wave of heat punched him in the gut. But then you pulled away, lips against the underside of his head, and Jaemin was a second away from just crying.

“You have nice hands,” you complimented with a mischievous smile as Jaemin held the back of your head eagerly. He felt like he was going crazy with the way you were mouthing your words against his cock.

“You have nice lips,” he returned through gritted teeth. “But please shut the fuck up and get to it already.”

Your lips curled slowly. “So impatient,” you cooed, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. Jaemin bucked his hips forward, trying to chase the sensation, but you were teasing him.

“God, you’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.”

You smirked up at him, moving your head to lick against the slit before taking his cock in your mouth again. A few laborious seconds passed with Jaemin biting his lip so that he didn’t make any noise, and then you finally started sucking him off. He fought the urge not to groan when your tongue rolled along the vein down his shaft.

You showed Jaemin no mercy, however. It was almost like you wanted everyone downstairs to hear. He gritted his teeth when your teeth grazed his cock, and he wanted more. He gripped your hair for anchorage and fucked into your mouth. The smallest whimper escaped you when Jaemin’s cock hit the back of your throat.

Jaemin let out a strangled groan. “I’m close.”

You took this as your cue to suck him off even harsher, and Jaemin was on the brink of sweet release. A tear escaped your eyes as he fucked into your throat, and Jaemin wiped it with his thumb, drinking in the wrecked sight of you that was bringing him over the edge. You let a broken moan vibrate against Jaemin’s shaft, and he was done for.

Jaemin couldn’t recall being able to cum this fast because of someone’s mouth before, but here he was, groaning as his hot seed shot down your throat. You obediently swallowed it, eyes hazy and tear-soaked from the size of him.

A few moments of silence passed before Jaemin leaned down and pecked your lips, heart fluttering a bit in his chest as he did so. “Good girl.”

He swore he saw you lifting a finger to scratch your cheek lightly, which was a nervous quirk of yours that Jaemin had picked up on, but you turned away quickly to fix your hair while Jaemin was pulling his pants back up. The tension that followed made Jaemin unsure of whether to leave or take you against the wall. He decided against the latter, knowing that Jeno couldn’t stall forever.

“Leaving already?” you asked, reaching for Jaemin’s hand, which he gladly entwined with yours.

“I’m already on thin ice,” Jaemin explained. “I have to go back down there and hope they don’t question me.” You moved closer to him, hands moving down to graze past his waistband. Jaemin hissed slightly under his breath and diverted by rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, so you and Yuta…”

“You’re still on that?” you asked, pulling your hands back. “I can’t laugh around another guy now?”

“No, no!” Jaemin groaned, tugging a hand through his hair out of frustration. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“Is it not obvious, Jaemin?” you asked him, an edge of desperation to your voice. “You really can’t tell how I feel?”

Jaemin sighed, looking down at his feet. “You can’t tell how I feel either?”

“You—what?”

“We’ll talk later. I have to go.”

He turned to go back downstairs, but you grabbed his wrist, saying, “Jaemin, remember that you’re the one who didn’t want anything more out of this.”

Jaemin gave you a puzzled look but before he could ask for clarification, you had pulled away from him and gestured for him to leave. He mumbled a pathetic excuse, spitting out a string of words for a moment before he gave up and snuck downstairs as quietly as he could.

He hated that you were right. Even though you had suggested sneaking around, Jaemin was the one who tried to draw the boundary. He did this to himself.

“Yo, Jaemin,” Yuta called, “when did you get here?”

“Just now,” Jaemin answered, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked into the living room where all the basketball team members were sprawled over the couch. “What’re we watching?”

“Pulp Fiction,” Taeyong answered. “Can you get the ice cream from the kitchen?”

“Sure.” Jaemin opened Jaehyun’s freezer to see two tubs of ice cream nestled in the corner. While he was pondering over whether to grab chocolate or vanilla, he felt a presence behind him and looked over his shoulder. “Did you need—oh my god, go to your room,” he whispered harshly at the sight of you.

“Are you my mom?” You raised a brow at him and reached for an ice cream tub. “Let me help you open them.”

“Fine,” he mumbled, voice fracturing at the end. He watched you move to the kitchen’s island and, carefully eyeing his teammates in the living room, letting his hand graze your thigh and whispering, “Hey, I’m sorry for earlier.”

You stiffened at his touch. “It’s fine,” you whispered back, opening the tubs of ice cream. “You’ve just been acting weird lately.”

“Weird?” Jaemin asked as he opened his tub. The ice cream dripped off the lid and onto Jaemin’s finger. “Ugh. Do you have napkins?”

“You’re so messy, Jaemin.”

“Shut up.”

“Let me help,” you insisted, grabbing his wrist and taking his fingers in your mouth.

Jaemin’s eyes widened by a fraction as your hot tongue circled around his fingers. He fought down the urge to take it further and bit his lip as he watched you. Before he could do anything, however, an awkward laugh and wolf-whistle from the living room made him freeze.

Jaemin’s head shot up to see his teammates staring at him, shell-shocked. Some looked absolutely confused while others looked more proud and impressed. Jaemin wondered if you had no shame because, despite all the eyes on them, you didn’t let go of his hand, your pretty lips still wrapped around his fingers.

“I don’t know why she’s doing that,” Jaemin rambled quickly, and his tone was so frazzled that Jeno had to hide his laugh behind his fist. “Come on, Y/N,” he urged, voice dropping for you to hear. “Let go of my hand.”

It would have been sexy if Jaemin wasn’t absolutely terrified.

Only when Jaemin caught sight of Jaehyun’s expression did you let go, saying, “Thanks for the ice cream.” With a playful smile, you looked up at Jaemin expectantly.

“What the fuck did we just witness?” Jungwoo asked, lit up silly like he had just witnessed the biggest scandal.

“We’re friends,” Jaemin croaked out. “Right, Y/N? Jaehyun? Jeno?”

Jeno ducked his head and Jaemin could tell what exactly he was thinking: I can’t help you out of this one, Jaem.

Jaemin couldn’t exactly read Jaehyun’s expression. It was a mix of emotions so varied that they didn’t make sense to him. He couldn’t even pick out any distinguishable one, but maybe it was better he didn’t know what the captain was feeling.

“I swear, it's not what it looks like,” Jaemin defended.

“So Y/N wasn’t sucking on your fingers?” Taeyong asked, a ghost of a laugh on his lips.

“Okay, so it’s exactly what it looks like,” Jaemin muttered and pursed his lips together. “But it’s—it’s nothing,” he reasoned, and at this point, it seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than them.

Either way, it wasn’t working.

Who was he kidding, anyway? They weren’t stupid, and it was clear as day that Jaemin couldn’t get enough of you. For heaven's sake, he even got jealous over Yuta making you laugh. Before, one would have to pry open the cold, hard jaws of his corpse to get a word out about how he felt, but now Jaemin felt like you had broken down his last line of defense.

Jaemin could already see the consequences that would follow, but he still blurted out, “Fine. You got me. Jaehyun, I’m in love with your sister.”

Jaemin’s neurons were tearing themselves over the fact that Jaemin had just professed his love to you and was now experiencing a state of total humiliation. He was confident he wouldn’t ever live this moment down.

The room went silent. Not only were the boys shocked, but you were, too. Jaemin himself couldn’t believe he let that slip, but there was no going back now. Jeno sat there with his jaw hung open and Jaemin couldn’t blame him. He didn’t even know he was going to drop the love bomb like that out of nowhere. Taeyong looked like he had just witnessed a murder as his eyes kept darting between Jaemin and Jaehyun, Jungwoo looked a little too proud, and Yuta was just washed over with realization.

“Oh.” Jaehyun blinked. “Cool, I guess. Does that mean you’re not joining us for movie night then?”

Jaemin wasn’t sure how obvious the shock showed on his face, but this felt too easy. For a little over a month, Jaemin had been skirting around his relationship with you because of your big brother, and now he was acting scarily nonchalant.

“You’re not mad?” Jaemin asked, wide-eyed.

Jaehyun laughed. “I mean, it’s kinda weird that you’re dating my little sister, but why would I be mad?”

“Maybe it’s because you said ‘if anyone lays a hand on my little sister, then I will make sure you look uglier than you already are,’” Yuta reminded him with Jaemin nodding along at his words. “And that was verbatim.”

“That’s for people hitting on my sister to get laid, not people dating my sister,” Jaehyun corrected. “I don’t control her decisions.”

Jaemin smiled through the internal pain of realizing he did exactly that. If Jaehyun found out he wasn’t dating you, then Jaemin was in for an earful. Thankfully, you were too dazed over Jaemin’s earlier confession to decide to start shit.

“Plus,” Jaehyun continued, “I knew you guys had a thing.”

“What?” Jaemin spluttered, blinking wildly. His tongue was performing acrobatics to formulate words but it wasn’t working.

“I had a suspicion when you climbed up my tree to get into the house,” Jaehyun said. “When I walked into the room later, that just confirmed my suspicions because, you know…”

Jaemin’s cheeks went hot when he realized that Jaehyun had probably caught onto the fact that he had a boner back then. Without a word, you rushed out of the kitchen, gaze averted which was what Jaemin supposed was embarrassment. Jaemin heard the front door open and close. He turned to follow after you, but swallowed thickly and froze in place.

“Go, Jaemin,” Jeno urged him, a tone of seriousness taking over.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” YangYang said cooly. “It’s just movie night.”

Jaemin clenched his jaw and nodded, thinking about how shitty it would be if he did all of that just to be rejected. Jaehyun’s house was a warzone and he knew better than to come tonight, but he still did, and he still fucked everything up. If things went wrong with you—

“Jaemin,” Jaehyun cut into his thoughts, “just so you know, I’m cool with you dating my sister.”

It was funny how a few words could make someone’s day, but Jaemin was surprised at the weight those words took off of his shoulders. He contained the joy to a half-smile and left the kitchen and walked out of your house to find you.

You hadn’t gone far at all. You were pacing along the sidewalk looking frazzled, hands lacing together and eyes cast down. Jaemin walked over to you and tried to take your hand but you pulled away.

“Did you mean what you said?” you asked, overcome with raw emotion.

“Yeah,” Jaemin replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I know I’m the one who didn’t want to start anything, and I lied about not wanting anything, but… this is how I feel, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I’m not exactly expressive if you haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve noticed,” you replied incredulously, lower lip starting to quiver. “I just—I don’t know—I thought I was just going to be an afterthought to you.”

Jaemin froze when he saw tears start to gloss your eyes. He never knew how to deal with people crying, especially when they were girls. He took your face in his hands and wiped your stray tears away with his thumbs, sighing softly.

“Let’s go to my place.”

“What? Why?”

“I need to show you how much I love you,” he replied firmly, taking your hand in his and walking in the direction of his apartment. “It’s kind of funny that you thought that because you’ve been all I could think about for the past month.”

More tears were starting to well up in your eyes, but you blinked them away.

Stay calm, Jaemin’s brain instructed him. Cupid can sense your fear.

“I love you,” he continued. “Should I say it again? I love you, I love you, I love—”

“Alright, Jaemin!” Your face beamed like a Christmas tree but you were still a flustered mess. “God, stop looking at me like that.”

“No,” he said, stopping in his tracks. “I’m going to keep saying it because I don’t think you get it.”

“Jaemin, we’re in the middle of the sidewalk,” you squeaked out as he kissed your cheek.

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss.

“J-Jaemin, I get it,” you whined out, scrunching your nose up at his affection. Jaemin continued, though, and you happened to reach your limit. You gripped his shoulders and held him away from you. “God, Jaemin, I love you, okay? You have to give me a chance to say it back at least.”

This time, Jaemin was the one to get shy. “Huh? You like me back?”

“Jaemin, you idiot, you’re so slow,” you mused, “I’ve liked you this entire time.”

He took your hand, his gaze never leaving yours, and rubbed your palm in circles with his thumb. “I know I’ve been a dick… on multiple occasions,” he admitted, “but I want to be with you.”

“Jaemin—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked.

Jaemin wondered how many seconds passed after, but it felt like centuries to him. He didn’t budge, however, because he wanted you more than ever.

“Yes,” you finally confessed, which, in essence, was a fever dream in itself.

Jaemin expected his reaction to be different, but instead, his eyes wandered off, lost in thought. He looked toward the moon overlooking that hill where he nearly hooked up with you on the night of the party. That felt like eons ago despite being not that long ago, but it carried a comforting wave of nostalgia.

“You know, on second thought, we’re gonna stargaze.”

You looked at Jaemin like he was some undiscovered specimen, but you still followed him. He laid on his back, scrunching up his nose when the grass tickled his face, and he held his hand out to you. You took it, crouching down to lay down next to him. This time, Jaemin spread his arm out so that you could lay against his chest.

You cuddled up against his chest and Jaemin thought he could die a happy man.

He looked over at you, heart hammering against his ribcage like he was hopped up on ten energy drinks. The glow of the moon illuminated the gentle curves of your face and Jaemin didn’t realize he was kissing you until he realized he had tilted your face toward him and cupped your soft cheek. His whole body felt fuzzy when your hands rested on his chest, when he could taste your fruity chapstick.

It was kind of embarrassing how nervous Jaemin was getting. His hands were starting to sweat and he was feeling kiss-dazed, smiling like an idiot because your soft lips were everything. When he pulled away, he pecked your lips one last time, his eyes unable to leave your face.

He threw his pride to the wind and confessed, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your expression was priceless. Jaemin indulged in watching you become a stuttering, faltering mess in front of him, struggling for words that could come out coherently.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t call anyone beautiful over your dead body,” you managed.

“Well, you’re not anyone, are you?” Jaemin raised a brow “You’re Y/N.”

“You’re such a smooth talker sometimes,” you acknowledged, “you know, when you’re not completely malfunctioning.”

“Shh.” Jaemin pulled you closer. “Let me enjoy this.”

“Fine, but you’re making it up to me later for playing cat and mouse for a month.”

Jaemin scoffed. “Please, I was the mouse most of the time.”

A bubble of a laugh escaped your lips and you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. “I’m really happy, you know?” you mumbled into his chest.

Jaemin kissed the top of your head, whispering a “yeah” into your hair. Maybe one day he’d admit that he was just as over-the-moon as you were, and maybe it would be coerced out of him hours later, but right now, under the starry night sky, he could only think about how lucky he was. It was funny, though, because now he could see the stars.

And they were so beautiful.

9K notes · View notes

fuwushiguro · 3 years

Text

A Party That Was Too Much Fun

Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Genre: Smut

Notes: been a MINUTE since I wrote Toji mmmmm... anyway this is for @httptamaki‘s anniversary birthday collab!! So honoured that u let me join bb thank u so much I hope u like the fic!! Be sure to read everyone else’s work too 💖

Synopsis: Toji Fushiguro is a wonderful person and boss, or so you thought. After an argument with his son, you begin to see a side to him you didn’t know he had.

Warnings: 18+, dubcon/noncon, manipulation, possessiveness, cheating, rough sex, degradation, praise kink, sir kink, dacryphilia??, cream pie, squirting, breeding kink, fingering, spit, mutual masturbation, choking, slapping/spanking, vaginal sex.

Words: 3.6k

Mr. Fushiguro was a marvellous man to be under the employ of. He didn’t rule with an iron fist, he never got angry or disrespected his staff. He was a gentleman through and through, suave, sophisticated and composed. It made your heart ache when you realised everyone else in the office had forgotten his birthday. It was unfortunate that his birthday fell on the same night as the biggest office party of the year, New Year's Eve. While everyone was getting drunk, photocopying their behinds on the machines and kissing under the leftover Christmas mistletoe; Mr. Fushiguro was sitting silently in his office doing paperwork. You didn’t enter, but you could clearly picture him in your mind with a pen in one hand and a tumbler of whiskey in the other.

You were sitting on your desk outside of Mr. Fushiguro’s office. A few of the men who had some Dutch courage in their system had approached and propositioned you, but you turned them down instantly and they backed off. People in the office didn’t usually bother communicating with you on a day-to-day basis since you were just Mr. Fushiguro’s secretary. They saw you as nothing but a skirt and a pet to him, but it wasn’t like that. He respected you and was appreciative of everything you did for him. It was hard to not feel the blood fill and warm up your soft cheeks whenever he complimented you.

While you were zoned out thinking of your wonderful boss; you just about jumped out of your skin when you saw a wild head of obsidian locks saunter through the office. Megumi stormed through your workplace, even bumping into your legs that were dangling over your desk due to his furious, uncaring pace.

“Megumi you can’t—!”

He didn’t even let you finish before he’d already swung open the door to Mr. Fushiguro’s office. Your boss stood to his feet when he realised his son was here. You tottered after the teenager and stood in the doorway while you attempted to tell him he couldn’t be here as his father was busy. However he ignored you completely.

“It’s okay, can you give us the room babe?” Mr. Fushiguro requested. You felt your stomach drop at the pet name. He’d never said anything like that to you before and it felt unusual but completely welcome. You were embarrassed that he said it in front of his son, but you shut the door behind you as you smiled and left the room.

“Babe? Fucking babe? Real original to be fucking a secretary behind your wife’s back.” you heard Megumi roar behind the door.

You were thankful that everyone else was too preoccupied enjoying the New Year’s festivities. The time was prevalent in your mind, you were worried that if they carried on bickering they’d be arguing with each other into the New Year. You literally crossed your fingers and hoped they’d resolved their differences as the thought entered your mind.

“I’m not fucking her you little idiot. What’s the matter with you? You think I’d do that to your mother?” Mr. Fushiguro answered.

You’ve met Megumi’s mother a handful of times. She’s got an extremely loving and warm presence about her. It was difficult to know for certain what she actually thought about you. But whenever she came to the office she was nothing but sweet to you. You hoped she didn’t think you were fucking her husband, Megumi was right, it’s such a damn cliché.

“Then why the FUCK are you spending your birthday… New Year’s Eve in your fucking office? Do you think that’s normal? When you have a family at home? Huh?” Megumi yelled, you could hear clattering on the other side of the door. You could only assume he was throwing things and pushing objects over to accentuate his speech.

You heard one more loud thump and then suddenly everything went quiet. Curiosity got the better of you and you leaned closer to the door to get better access to their conversation.

The little glass feature in Mr. Fushiguro’s door gave you a clear picture of the scene unfolding behind it. It shocked you to see him with his fists balled into his sons shirt. Mr. Fushiguro had him pressed firmly against a wall and you began to worry that he wasn’t the calm and composed man you thought he was. You feared for the young boy under his grip.

“Megumi, son, for fuck sake. I am at work. I have to be here to keep a roof over your stupid head. To put food on the table. To buy whatever your materialistic little heart desires,” you managed to hear Mr. Fushiguro whisper into his son’s face now that you’d gotten yourself closer. The countdown had begun, you knew all hope was lost of them having a happy start to the year. “I suggest you go home and spend the rest of the night enjoying the festivities with your mother. Go on, fuck off you little brat.”

“I hate you. I’ve always hated you.” Megumi spoke, voice wavering in frustration. It sounds like he might even cry.

“Boo fucking hoo kid. Get out of here ya little shit.” Mr. Fushiguro responded.

He freed Megumi from his grip and you moved as fast as humanly possible in your ridiculously high heels back to your desk. You were pretending to look at your computer, but you’d die of embarrassment if either of them looked at you or the screen long enough to realise it wasn’t even turned on.

Mr. Fushiguro’s son stormed passed you with tear streaks down his face that he hastily wiped away with the back of his sleeve. You felt so sorry for him. It seemed you had misjudged your gentle and caring boss, everything isn’t as it seems on the surface. Your boss approached the door, and just as he looked like he was about to slam his door after his son left he turned his attention to you.

“Workin’ hard sweetheart? Or did you get a good earful?” he asked you, you inquisitively raised an eyebrow feigning that you had no idea what he was talking about. He pointed behind you and you instinctively turned around, “Your fuckin’ screen isn’t on darlin’.” he laughed as he finally shut the door.

You’d spent the last hour hanging around the office accountants, the other rejected nerds who the ‘real’ employees wouldn’t talk too. The mortifying exchange between you and Mr. Fushiguro hadn’t left your mind. You would have been happy to sit alone by your desk all evening, but you thought having a conversation with some other people would help distract you from your inner shame. However the party started dying down, and you had to talk to Mr. Fushiguro before everyone went home. People started filing out as they discussed plans to go clubbing as a sort of after party. But instead of following them, you walked towards the kitchen and opened the fridge.

You baked a cake, a big chocolatey birthday cake for your favourite boss.

You lit the candles on the top with the lighter in your pocket, and you heard a few snide comments from some of the people who were yet to leave the office. Things like, ‘kiss ass’ and ‘she must be fucking him’ but you didn’t care.

It didn’t surprise you in the least that everyone else had forgotten your boss’ birthday, so you wanted to give him a reason to feel appreciated. You knocked on his door, awaiting his response.

“Make it fast.” he barked.

You held the cake as steadily as you could in one hand while you opened the door with the other. For some reason you were awfully nervous. You hoped he was too distracted with his work to remember how embarrassing you were earlier, because if he brought it up again you’re sure you’d die of humiliation.

He was scowling with scrunched eyes and a furrowed brow as he went through his paperwork. But his features softened when he saw the sweet sight of his darling secretary holding a homemade cake with candles for him.

“Aw, aren’tcha a doll?” he spoke.

You felt your face warm up again, but did your best to repress the cheesy, proud grin you wanted to release at the compliment.

“I know your birthday is technically over, but I didn’t want you to think I forgot. Happy birthday sir.” you said as you approached his desk to leave the cake there for him. “Do you want to make a wish?” you asked him, leaning over his desk, willing him to answer.

He ran a finger over the top of the cake, coating his digit with the sugary icing he stole. He placed it in his mouth. Mr. Fushiguro held eye contact with you as he sucked it slowly off his finger. The sight made your heart pound. Your cutesy smile turned into a thin line as you tried to compose yourself.

“I wish—”

“No! If you tell me it won’t come true!” you remind him before he makes the fatal error and ruins his wish.

He stood upright, towering above you and looking down into your big doe eyes. He brought his face closer to yours so that he could really talk down to you.

“Yes it will. Because I always get what I want, he said, his view alternating between you and the burning candles. “I wish, my ungrateful family would stay out of my business.” he spoke. He continued holding eye contact as he blew the flames away. “Put the cake over there for me gorgeous.” he commanded as he pointed to the console table on the left side of the room.

You picked it up and did as you were told as he sat back down.

“Anything else sir?” you asked him, holding your hands together politely as you awaited his response.

“Nah, get yourself home.” he told you.

“Aren’t you going home?” you asked, you weren’t quite sure why as it sounded slightly out of turn and you aren’t normally one to overstep your boundaries. His fingers halted from writing and a smile found it’s way onto his face. But it wasn’t a sincere smile, it was sarcastic. Like you’d asked something incredibly stupid.

“D’ya think I wanna go home and see that little prick?” he told you.

You cleared your throat and turned to leave. But before you opened the door, before you planned to say goodbye. You turned around and approached his desk. He studied you as you did, trying to predict what your next move or words would be.

“It’s a fresh start sir, I think you should go home and patch things up with him.” you spoke sternly, not sure where this confidence had came from all of a sudden.

“What fuckin’ business is that of yours darlin’? Why’s that any of your concern?” he queried with derision dripping from his strict tongue. He raised one eyebrow and looked at you with complete malice as he awaited your reply.

“It’s not… sir, but I think you’ll regret it.”

He slammed his palms into his desk and stood up again. Mr. Fushiguro eyed you up like an animal plotting how to utterly eviscerate it’s pray. You shuddered under his gaze, preparing yourself for whatever he was about to say. The loud sound of the slap against his desk was still playing in your ears and making you quiver.

“You could’a just gone home sweetheart. I’m in no fuckin’ mood to be getting parenting advice from my childless secretary.” he spat as he brought his face closer to yours.

Your breathing was erratic as you had no idea what he was talking about. Aren’t you allowed to leave? Is he planning on kidnapping you? Holding you hostage? Murdering you? He ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth, and before you even realised what was happening, he ripped open your shirt. Buttons flew in all directions, the buttons cascading with the ground sounded like torrential rainfall. You wanted to speak, to object. But before you could, Mr. Fushiguro had lifted you up and over his desk like you were lighter than air. You were standing directly in front of him now with no desk keeping the two of you apart.

“You wanna be useful to be so fuckin’ bad don’tcha darlin’? Huh?” he asked you while he furiously yanked down the zip on your office skirt. He forcefully shoved it down to your ankles, and helped you out of it by lifting you and placing you on his desk like a fragile doll. When you didn’t answer, you felt his stinging palm strike the side of your face. “Are ya deaf as well as a meddling little cunt?” he spat.

“No sir- I’m sorry… Wanna be useful sir…” you pouted, holding the reddening handprint on your face in an attempt to soothe the ache.

He seamlessly began to unbuckle his belt with one hand as he glided a finger up and down your clothed cunt. You were shivering from the contact. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. You haven’t wanted anyone to have you like this.

Not until now.

He lowered his trousers and underwear just enough so that his fat cock could spring free. Your breath got caught in your throat as you ogled his manhood. It is the biggest you’ve ever seen with your own two eyes, and you were terrified. He lifted his shirt over his head and revealed his body to you; a body that you quite frankly believed was carved by Gods. He pulled your panties down, but not all of the way off. Your pretty white lace dangled daintily over one ankle, and you didn’t miss Mr. Fushiguro’s cock throb at the sight. You were a personified oxymoron to him. How could you look so sweet and innocent with adorable lace hanging from your ankle with your cunt on display and practically in his face?

Mr Fushiguro began to pump himself slowly as he admired the precious object that had found its way into his office and perfectly on his desk. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

“Touch yourself.” he told you, but you shook your head adamantly. He didn’t appreciate your defiance, slapping you harshly once again in the same spot as earlier. “Thought you wanted to be useful for me sweetheart? So touch yourself. Now.” he instructed.

Tears pricked as your eyes as deft fingers found their way to your sex. You never did enjoy playing with yourself like this, toys were better. You kept it safe and played with your clit, occasionally moving your fingers nearer to your hole to gather more slick. It satisfied him for a moment, but his heavy palm landed on your upper thigh this time, earning a terrified yelp from you.

“Is this how you touch yourself at home? Is this the best you can do for me?” he asked.

His line of questioning made you feel incredibly insecure. You slid two of your slick coated fingers into your mouth and released them with a pop. It felt uncomfortable, but you managed to get them snuggly inside your hole. You pushed them in and out slowly, assuming he’d prefer to savour the show. He looked down at your foot again, your underwear still hanging loosely around your ankle, and then back to your cunt. You didn’t know what you were doing to him. He hadn’t been this hard or this horny in a long time.

“S’fucking naughty. Aren’tcha darlin’? Stuffin your cunt with those little fingers.” he spoke as he ogled you. You nodded, but he didn’t seem to be searching for an answer. Just musing aloud and demeaning you for his own self-fulfilment. “You’ve wanted this to happen forever haven’t you? Do you finger yourself and think of me at home, wishin’ it was my cock?” he questions, and you nod. It’s only half a lie. Because instead of your fingers you use a purple rubbery dildo, although it could never compare to the gargantuan length in front of you now.

He pulls you up by your bra straps and you squeal at the surprise change. He unhooks the back and frees your aching tits, both nipples hard and eager for his touch. Mr. Fushiguro laces his fingers in your hair with one hand and rolls one nipple with the other. As you begin to moan softly, his grip of your locks and your breast become harsher. You can’t help but scream at the painful sensation.

“You’re such a dirty slut. I’m fuckin’ married, you whore, no wonder Megumi thought I was fucking you. Not exactly subtle, are ya? And you fuck yourself while you think about your married boss…” he trails off, looking away for a minute before he gets an idea. “Open your mouth.” he commands. And you do so without hesitation. He forms a saliva glob on his tongue and spits it directly into your mouth. Bits of spittle get onto your face but you don’t mind, and you swallow what he gave you with pride.

Deciding he’s had enough of jerking himself off, he pulls you off his desk and spins you around. He forces you to rest your right knee on the desk while your opposite foot remains on the floor. He kicks the inside of your ankle, inciting you to spread your pussy open wider for him.

You wish he fingered you instead of making you do it yourself. His fingers are thicker than yours and you’re sure he would have prepared you better. On the other hand, you’re unsure that any amount of preparation would have readied you for your boss’ monster cock.

He sheathes himself fully inside and the raucous scream that leaves your lungs is inhuman. But he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t let you adjust. You can’t stop crying, he laughs. He’s laughing because he thinks you deserve it. He thinks you brought it on yourself for interfering in his life. And you were the one who wanted to be useful.

“Toji!” you cried, unable to bare the agony for a second longer. You instantly felt both his palms connect with the globes of your ass and you were sure they’d be bruised tomorrow.

“What happened to Mr. Fushiguro? What happened to sir? Y’think cos you’re my little fuck toy for the night you’re special?” he slaps your ass again and you screech, “What is my name sweetheart? Don’t be shy, you’ve been such a good slut all night. What’s my fucking name?”

“SirR!” your voice cracks, “I’m sorry! I’m s-so sorry sir. Please! ‘s too much!” you plead, hoping he’ll take mercy on you.

“Good. Your pussy is clenching me like crazy ‘cuz you’re s’fucking tight.” he explains. He’s bruising your cervix, it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt and the pain is making you sob pathetically. But the way it was hitting, was just right. Each and every thick monstrous inch made your vision cloud and you knew you were close.

“Sir, I’m- I’m gonna- gonna cum. Can I cum sir? Please?” you begged miserably. The vision of you completely destroyed and fucked out made his cock throb inside of you. He needs to be careful, if he didn’t know any better he might think you’re more beautiful than his wife.

“Yeah baby, go ahead and cum. Be a good girl and cum.” he commanded.

With the permission of your boss, you let the coil unravel inside of you and you squirted all over his cock and lower abdomen. His trousers were soaked, as were your discarded clothes.

“Oh fuuuuuck, good girl. Good fucking girl, juuuuust like that. So good f’me baby.” he praised as jets of liquid continued to escape your cunt. You were moaning so sweetly for him, he was desperate to cum so he kept fucking you through your high.

“Wanna cum again sir. Can I cum again?” you were crying uncontrollably. The pain, the pleasure, the stretch, the orgasm, the oversensitivity. It was all too much and you didn’t know how to act. You couldn’t control your actions, but your boss kissed between your shoulder blades in an attempt to relax you.

But that was before he decided to wrap his heavy hand around your neck and yanked you up towards him. His mouth was level with your ear, the combination of his whispers and the tight squeeze around your oesophagus made twinkling lights dance across the back of your eyelids.

“Again? So good f’me gorgeous. This perfect fuckin’ pussy of yours…” he whispered, snaking his other hand to fondle your breasts now that the desk wasn’t blocking access to them. “You want to be my little wifey don’t you baby? My useful little wife. Wanna be Megumi’s new step-mother? How bad do you want it?” he huffed.

“So badly sir, please, please I wanna be your wife. Wanna be yours, wanna cum. Fill me. Fill me up sir.” you babbled, completely and utterly fucked out of your right mind.

He didn’t give you permission, but his lewd words went straight to your spent little cunt. Your orgasm gushed out of you yet again as you moaned through it. He shoved the top half of your body back down onto the desk with a thump as your liquids carried on escaping you. He fucked into you harder, he wasn’t even sure if you were conscious anymore. You stopped moaning and you didn’t say a word. He came inside you, thick creamy cum filling your fucked out hole like a cream donut. Mr. Fushiguro’s moans were boisterous and animalistic, like a man possessed. You weren’t the only one who hadn’t gotten laid in a while. He may be married, but it’s strained. An obscene amount of his gooey essence found itself inside of you, but when he finished he spread your pussy open to watch the white seed drip out of you.

He put your panties back on for you without cleaning you up. He was too enamoured by the delicious vision of his kids filling and pouring out of you. Mr. Fushiguro wanted you to feel him when you came to. He wanted you to wake up with your pretty white panties sticking to your pussy and thighs because he had ruined them. He did his best to dress you with some loungewear he’d left around his office. He put some joggers on himself and laid you down next to him on his black fur rug. A beautiful handmade blanket, likely made by his wife, covering both of your recovering bodies.

You knew he’d never leave his wife for you. He’d never abandon Megumi either, as much as the kid got on his last nerve. But whatever this was. This damn cliché. This naughty little tryst you had together, you hoped it wouldn’t end here.

And you hoped it wasn’t just for birthday’s.

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