#and how much they are alike but also complete opposites | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoshigray · 2 months

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Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)

“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”

“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”

You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong…

Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.

With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.

That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko.

Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.

In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.

Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!

How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.

Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.

And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”

“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”

Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??

But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.

The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.

However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.

“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”

Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life.

Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men.

This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.

So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”

His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.

However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.

“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”

You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing!

“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,” he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”

You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste.

But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“

“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”

With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”

He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”

And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better.

“Aww, you two are so cute together~”

You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.

Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.

The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”

“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”

The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”

Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”

“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”

The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.

The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?”

“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”

“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”

Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”

“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe? You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder.

Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“

“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”

And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”

Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”

It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get.

It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating!

When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight.

Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you!

Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence.

“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?”

The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.

You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him.

“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”

The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”

“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”

With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss.

And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again.

“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”

Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris.

“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!”

“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.”

“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”

“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.

Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”

You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”

Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips.

“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”

You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again.

“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”

Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…”

“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“

“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him.

“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“

Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm.

After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”

“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”

“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”

Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.

Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower.

The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same.

“Hey, Y/n.”

Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“

“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”

“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”

“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”

Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”

“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”

“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”

“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”

“Oh, eat horse shit.”

“Croak and die.”

You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.

…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?

Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #geto x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk imagines #anime smut

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mrkis · 7 months

Text

you'll never find anyone like me — one. (l.dh)

PAIRING: lee donghyuck x afab!reader GENRE: college au, fluff, mature WORD COUNT: 14.9k

SYNOPSIS: you’ll never find anyone like lee donghyuck, and that’s what makes him so exciting.

CHAPTERS WARNINGS: slow burn(ish) type, so much plot & way too much dialogue, alcohol consumption, explicit language, a lot of mentions of donghyuck being obsessed, heavy tension between reader and donghyuck, mentions of parties & drugs, donghyuck comes across as very straight forward and also flirty, pretty people make reader nervous lol (especially donghyuck), tension between two main characters but no smut yet.

AUTHORS NOTE:: its finally here!! i'm so excited to start this series with you all, thank you for your patience!! also, for anyone new, this is linked to my 'NEO TECH COLLEGE' jaemin series 'the way life goes' although this can be read as a standalone.

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

It wasn’t exactly ideal enrolling into class halfway through the year, knowing you’ll have to go through that godawful stage of trying to make friends with people who already have chosen their own clique to spend the rest of their college years with.

You’re, unfortunately, the new student, the one that’ll be singled out during group projects or the one they pick last for the group because they didn’t want to choose you first… you really don’t know which one is worse.

Looking for a place to settle down was a close second to being one of the worst things to do after enrolling late. You didn’t have enough money to live by yourself and you sure as hell didn’t want to live with someone you hardly even knew, but you had to pick one, so you went with the latter.

Areum was actually the sweetest (and coolest) person you have ever met.

She welcomed you into her two bedroom apartment with open arms and even helped get you settled into your new room by offering to unpack your boxes and decorate the way you preferred, allowing you to have all the creative freedom you needed to call this place your home too.

Areum had even taken time out of her own busy schedule to show you around, letting you know about all the best food joints, best places to go to get coffee, best album stores to get your preferred music and even the best hangout spots.

It was, undoubtedly, a lot to take in.

Areum even introduced you to Minjun, a childhood friend of hers who is a college dropout and now the drummer in a two-man band with his older brother. (They’re pretty good, even though the older brother scares the shit out of you).

Minjun was the complete opposite of Areum yet they were alike in so many ways, it was easy to make friends with him just as it was with Areum. Minjun was sceptical of you at first though, but he immediately warmed up to you when you complimented his drum set to which he then showed you how to play. (You had no idea, but it was fun).

You cherish the friendships you have made with the two deeply even though you felt like you were intruding at the beginning, especially when you realised how long they have actually known each other and how close they are. But the pair happily invited you into their small friendship with big grins and playful jokes.

You were grateful to be starting something new with people who you felt instantly comfortable with, you were excited to see what your time in college had in store for you.

“Shit!” You repeatedly curse under your breath as you hurry across campus grounds with your bag strap sliding down your shoulders and your phone held tightly in your grip, staring down at the time that shined angrily at you due to your lateness.

Being late on your very first day wasn’t exactly something you wanted to experience, but the pressure of getting everything ready and the stress of overthinking lead you to being exhausted and oversleeping—you wanted the ground to swallow you up when you received the mass texts from Areum asking if you made it to your class in time.

You fix the strap on your shoulder as you rush into the building, eyeing the signs on the walls that would easily lead you to your music class and you groan when you realise it’s at the far end of the building, breaking out into another sprint and you’re grateful there’s no one around to see you make a complete fool of yourself as you run.

Glancing down at your phone, you wince at the time and you look back up to make sure you’re going to right way but you curse under your breath when you realise you’re heading straight towards someone’s back and you don’t even have time to stop yourself or control your speed, already bumping into them at full force which causes them to stumble forwards from the impact.

The person they’re with steadies them and you manage to get a quick glimpse at the girl who’s looking at you in shock before the victim spins around, his eyes angry and ready to curse you out but you don’t even notice how his eyes soften when he looks at you as you’re already profusely apologising to him.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I—fuck—I didn’t mean to fall into you like that, I’m just late and—”

“It’s fine.” The girl cuts off your rambling, sending you a reassuring smile as the guy continues to stare at you and you nod, mumbling another quick apology as you turn your head and see the door to your assigned class, quickly slipping through the door and letting it close shut behind you, heart racing rapidly in your chest at the full class of students who briefly glance at you before returning to their work.

The Professor looks up from his computer when you enter the room, gazing at you over the rim of his glasses and he gives you a welcoming smile, beckoning you over with his hand and you head straight towards him, getting ready to apologise for being so late but he’s already opening his mouth to speak first.

“I’m surprised you’re starting halfway through the year, but I’m happy to have you in this class. Welcome,” He smiles warmly at you and it instantly makes you feel better, your shoulders relaxing with a breath of relief as you smile back at him thankfully. “I’m Professor Kim Hongjoong. I’ll be your music Professor during your time here and if you need any help with anything, I’d be happy to give you some guidance… although, I have to encourage my students to ask one another. Team bonding type of stuff.”

“Noted.” You laugh lightly with a nod, adjusting the bag strap on your shoulder.

“Great.” Professor Kim grins up at you.

He dismisses you to a seat at the far back of the class next to a boy whose face is shoved into his computer screen, chunky headphones resting on his head as his fingers dance across a piano keyboard, nodding to the notes that play smoothly in his ears and you pull out the seat to sit beside him, sliding your bag off your shoulder and letting it rest by the legs of the chair.

Capturing your seatmate's attention, he turns to look at you and gives you a warm and welcoming smile, pulling the headphones from his head to rest around his neck. He introduces himself as Xiaojun and he takes the opportunity to point out everyone in the room to let you know their names, and even though it didn’t exactly help and you sure as hell wouldn’t remember everyone's names, you were grateful at least.

“How come you enrolled in the middle of the year?” Xiaojun suddenly asks you and you give him a sheepish grin in response. He raises a questioning brow, “Wasn’t going to enrol or something?”

“Something like that.”

“Interesting.” Xiaojun hums and he turns his head back to his computer screen while your attention is brought towards the classroom door that swings open, and embarrassment immediately washes over you when you recognise the guy that steps inside, the one you had forcefully slammed into on your way here.

You sink down into your seat in hopes to avoid him to keep your own dignity and your brows pull together in confusion when you see his eyes glance around the room, tilting his head to the side in thought and tongue prodding at his cheek as he scans over the row of seats before he finds you.

His lips curl into a smirk and his eyebrows raise in a way that has your heart thumping rapidly in your chest, immediately drawing your attention away from him when he drops down into a seat beside Yangyang, (a guy that Xiaojun had pointed out to you when filling you in on everyone’s names), who is too busy scrolling through his phone to notice his presence.

“Donghyuck.”

“What?” You hum, glancing at Xiaojun when you hear him mutter.

“That’s Donghyuck, the one that just came back in/” Xiaojun tells you and you made a small noise of acknowledgment, taking another peek over at him only to avert your eyes away when you realise he’s already looking at you and you feel hot, a little embarrassed and awkward at being caught.

“Has he got a staring problem or something?” You catch yourself mumbling under your breath and your eyes widen when you hear Xiaojun snort, completely capturing what you had just said and you groan, leaning back into your chair with a frown as Xiaojun looks at you with an amused smile.

“Something like that.”

The class surprisingly goes by quicker than you thought and both Professor Kim and Xiaojun were kind enough to fill you in on what you’ve missed so far, and what’s coming up soon. Luckily, as you enrolled in so late, you were excused from the upcoming assignment but were given a side task to write down everything you had knowledge of, including the instruments that you’re skilled in playing.

You found it quite simple and you’re positive you can jot down everything tonight so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later on. You’ve always been eager to please, so there was no way in hell you were going to leave this until the last minute.

You rise from your seat and grab your bag, slipping the strap over your shoulder as you subconsciously peer over at the other end of the room, your heart thumping wildly in your ears when you catch Donghyuck’s eyes already looking back at you while talking to Yangyang, leaning back on the desk with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and leather jacket draped over his arm.

His deep and intense gaze makes you feel nervous and you find yourself fidgeting in your spot, unable to tear your own eyes away from him, locked under his stare and the smirk that he gives you sends goosebumps rippling down your spine.

It’s when he pushes himself off the desk that brings you out of your trance, panic flooding through you when it seems like he’s about to advance towards you but he stays in his place when a hand carefully touches your arm, causing you to quickly turn towards the person that wanted your attention.

Xiaojun’s smiling warmly at you, but you’re surprised when you see that he’s not alone and instead, there are two other guys standing with him.

One wears a green hoodie beneath a grey jacket and matching coloured jeans, a beanie on his head with blue strands of hair peeking from beneath. The round, thin framed glasses on the bridge of his nose makes him look cute, yet the boyish grin he gives you makes you feel a little flustered and you move your attention to the other boy beside him.

He’s a lot more quiet and awkward, opting to give you a tight lipped smile as a greeting and nodding his head to say he’s acknowledged you. You’re not surprised by his shy demeanour𑁋especially with how he’s refusing to make eye contact and how his fingers nervously fiddle with the bracelet dangling on his wrist.

“This is Mark,” Xiaojun points to the one in the hoodie. “And this is Jihoon,” He points to the other before he turns to you and gives you a smile, “These guys are who I spent the majority of my time with, unfortunately”

“You love us, dude,” Mark’s boyish grin returns as he pats Xiaojun’s shoulder who playfully rolls his eyes and Mark looks at you. “You’re welcome to join us for lunch if you want?”

“Oh, thank you,” You smile appreciatively but it slowly drops when you realise what you had planned already. “Can I join you some other time? I have somewhere to be today.”

“Of course you can.” Mark’s grin widens as his hand removes off Xiaojun’s shoulder to gently knock yours and you grow nervous under the small contact, a shy smile spreading across your lips as you bid them a silent goodbye, brushing past the trio to get to the door and your mouth goes dry, your nerves amping up to a hundred as you once again meet Donghyuck’s eyes from his position next to Yangyang, how he watches you with a hint of intrigue and interest swimming in his irises.

You miss the way his eyes snap towards your new friends with a locked jaw, tongue prodding at his cheek as you leave the room.

Watching Areum work has always been fascinating to you: in awe of the talent that pours out of her hands and the patience she has when it comes to sculpting certain objects and/or people for projects or just to pass the time, how every piece is precise and perfect𑁋a complete masterpiece.

It’s the look of determination and joy that seals the deal for you, how happy and content she seems to be whenever she’s in her zone, and having the opportunity to witness her working in the studio at college for the first time is definitely the highlight of your already long and interesting day.

You bite into your lunch as you watch her from behind get her hands dirty while sculpting her recent project, soothing out the curves of a woman’s body that she has been putting together while humming a tune that plays quietly from the radio on the windowsill beside her.

Areum takes a step back to admire her work, a sound of approval slipping past her lips before she decides to take a break, unzipping her black overalls halfway to take her arms out of the sleeves and tying them around her waist securely so the rest doesn’t fall down completely, allowing her tattooed arms to be freed and on show with her white shirt.

“Did you make it to your class in time this morning?” Areum asks you as she leans against the open window, pulling her strawberry vape out of her pocket to take a drag and you shake your head, causing her to chuckle lowly. “I thought Minjun put an alarm on your phone before he left last night?”

“I slept through it,” You say bitterly, taking another bite of your lunch as she clicks her tongue against her teeth. “Thinking about today got me stressed and I overslept. Ended up almost being an hour late and not only that, I practically body slammed someone because I rushed to get to class. It was embarrassing.”

“Ouch,” Areum teases while scrunching her nose up, taking another hit out of her vape and blowing the smoke out of the window. You roll your eyes, twisting the cap on your bottle of water to take a sip. “Made any friends in your class though?”

You side eye her, “You sound like my mother,” She smirks at you. “Got to know this guy called Xiaojun. He introduced me to his friends Mark and Jihoon just before class ended. I only know those three so far.”

“Good,” Areum hums with an approving nod. “I know Mark and Xiaojun, I’ve bumped into them a few times… don’t know Jihoon though.”

“He’s kinda quiet,” You admit, remembering your very brief encounter with him. You smile, “He didn’t say anything but he seemed welcoming at least. They offered me to join them for lunch but I said I already had plans today.”

“You ditched them to hang out with me?” Areum looks at you with a blank expression and you nod, giving her an innocent grin as you finish off the last bite. “I don’t know whether to thank you or call you stupid.”

You swallow thickly, “I know you better than them so being with you right now is the safest and comforting option to me. I’d like to get to know them more eventually and hang out with them… but it’s kind of hard to do that when I get shy and awkward around people I don’t know.”

“You did well with me and Minjun,” She praises you and you feel your cheeks grow hot at that, trying to fight the smile that threatens to slip onto your lips. “But don’t worry, you got this. Take your time, there’s no rush.”

“I’m not going to rush,” You tell her, resting your chin on your hand as you look over at her, your other hand tapping a mindless tune on the wooden table. “I’m taking everything slowly.”

It took you just over a month to get comfortable in your new college.

You managed to remember everyone's names in your course and despite not talking to some of them, they had become easier to remember overtime.

Xiaojun, Mark and Jihoon never left your side during classes and just like Areum and Minjun, they also welcomed you into their group with open arms and jokes that had you laughing until your stomach cramped up and tears pooled in your eyes.

Jihoon became a lot more open with you as you did him. He was just like you—shy and awkward around people he barely knew or wasn’t comfortable with yet, didn’t want to speak up or take control of the conversation in fear of saying something silly, but when getting comfortable with the people it was non stop talking and cracking jokes, even pitching a few sarcastic comments here and there to make others smile.

Xiaojun and Mark were similar—outgoing and confident, striking up conversations and making friends as if it was the easiest thing to do, making others feel invited and welcomed although there was a few moments where you see their shy tendencies come through the cracks, noticing how shy Xiaojun got when being compliment on his voice when singing a song to himself under his breath and when Mark gets shy when he receives unwanted attention from others that compliment his work or his looks.

Aisha, a girl in your class, was one of the people that would compliment Mark over and over again, making him flustered and cheeks grow red with each word and giggle that slips from her lips. She’s gorgeous, so it doesn’t surprise you that Mark gets shy easily when she comes near.

Aisha is one of the people you haven’t properly spoken to yet. Her sociable and popular presence leaves you a little intimidated. You’ve shared a few friendly smiles and some small words in passing, but you haven’t had the courage to speak to her fully.

You, admittedly, like to admire her from afar. Seeing how confident and friendly she is, how she teasingly flirts and prettily smiles at others who conversate with her, how her delicate hands play with her healthy hair that cascades down her back, how her siren-like voices lures people in when she’s talking or even singing.

It makes you jealous, but not in a bad way. You could only wish you had the same confidence and likeness.

Donghyuck is another person you haven’t spoken to yet. You feel nervous being in his presence, how his intense gaze leaves you speechless and unable to think properly. How his lingering touches on your skin leaves goosebumps running down your spine every time he brushes past you to either get to his seat or if he was just walking by in the hallways.

He glances over his shoulder each time, lips curling into a grin, dark eyes piercing through you as he meets your eyes and takes in your appearance, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip before it tucks between his teeth as he takes in your outfit of the day.

Even if you’re wearing something that completely covers you, he makes you feel bare.

Xiaojun is the one that tells you to stray far away from Donghyuck, that he’s nothing but a ‘slut who loves attention and flirts with any living thing’. Mark did however clap back and told Xiaojun that he himself loves the attention too, which caused Xiaojun to jut out his bottom lip in a pout and turn away, but Mark mentioned how Donghyuck can be a little crazy sometimes and to try and not let his continuous stares and actions get under your skin.

You agreed, saying that wouldn’t be the case, even though you’re lying through your teeth already.

He is getting under your skin, leaving his mark on you and truthfully, it’s interesting.

You will never admit that out loud.

“Why are you being so quiet?” You hear somebody ask you suddenly and you rip yourself out of your thoughts, blinking at you try to see where the source of the sound came from but you let out a huff as a weight is knocked against your shoulder, hissing as you turn your head to see Minjun who had dropped down to the sofa to sit beside you.

He’s grinning at you in greeting but mumbles a quick apology when he realises he’s hurt you, rubbing the sore area before pulling his hand back to pull his phone out of his pockets.

You stay silent for a moment, staring at him as he mindlessly drums his fingers against the side of his phone as he reads a text and you immediately recognise it as the new song that he and his brother have been working on, the corner of your lips stretching into a smile.

However, his drumming comes to a sudden stop when Byeol pounces up on the arm of the sofa on his left, staring at Minjun with his tail slowly swishing behind him before he steps down onto Minjun’s thighs to find the perfect spot to rest and Minjun clicks his tongue against his teeth in annoyance.

“I hate this cat.” He grumbles under his breath despite raising his hand to pet Byeol behind his ears, loud purring noises rumbling from his chest. Minjun glances at you, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?” You mutter as you reach over to pet Byeol too.

“About why you’re being so quiet.”

“There’s no reason,” You tell him truthfully, smiling as Byeol nuzzles his head into your palm. “I was enjoying the silence and just thinking about some things.”

“What things?”

Your eyes snap to him, teasing in your tone, “None of your business.”

“Ouch. You wound me,” He speaks monotone, pulling his hand away from Byeol to adjust the beanie on top of his head. “I have a show this weekend at Cherry Bomb, you’re coming right?”

“Obviously,” You hum. “Me and Areum never miss your shows.”

“Lucky charms,” Minjun grins, raising his hand with his pinky outstretched and you snort, wrapping your own pinky around his and squeezing tightly. “EJ and his girlfriend are coming too so we’re going to grab a few beers with them after it, yeah?”

“Sounds good to me,” You nod, retracting your hand from his to pet the cat who’s now climbing into your own lap, rubbing his face in the cotton of your shirt. You purse your lips in thought, “Can I invite people?”

Minjun raises his brow in interest, “Who?”

“Just these guys I’ve made friends with—they’re on my music course,” You briefly explain but you feel the need to go further as Minjun continues to stare at you. “They saw my Instagram post at your show a few weekends back and they asked about you, and they said they’d be interested in seeing you play and—”

“They can come,” He cuts off your rambling, grinning up at you and your brows pull together when he nudges your shoulder. “You don’t have to ask, you know. The more the merrier, right? Besides, Seungwoo will be happy to see some new faces listening to our music.”

“Is he giving you a hard time?”

“Just the usual,” Minjun shrugs. “Worried about the number of people showing up to watch, the amount of unfinished songs he’s written, stuff with our parents too… they’re not exactly supportive of me dropping out of college and him leaving work to pursue music. They say it’s a waste of time.”

“But you’re good at what you do,” You tell him truthfully with a kind smile. “Both of you. You’re booking out bars and performing in front of big crowds almost every weekend, I say that’s pretty impressive.”

The corner of Minjun's lips lift upwards, his head tilting to the side slightly as he looks at you, “You think so?”

You nudge his shoulder, “I know so.”

Minjun breaks out into a full smile this time and he nudges you back as a small gesture of a thank you before he shifts in his seat, getting comfortable leaning against the cushions as he resumes scrolling through his phone.

You relax into him, peering your head over his shoulder to watch the screen as he shows you his current Instagram home page filled with musicians, concert photos and the occasional selfie of those he follows. You hardly recognise any of them, apart from the few Areum had posted and EJ with his girlfriend, but you still wiggle your eyebrows suggestively and make flirty comments when you see the sexy mirror pictures posted by some.

Minjun just rolls his eyes and tells you to be quiet, huffing as he angles himself away from you.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you were here,” You hear Areum’s teasing voice from behind and you crane your neck to see her make her way over to the both of you, a fluffy white towel wrapped tight around her body and another wrapped around her hair from her previous shower.

She sits in the single loveseat opposite, crossing her legs beneath herself to get comfy and a smile slips upon her lips as Byeol meows loudly, jumping down from your own lap and to find comfort on hers, nuzzling himself in her towel and Areum holds him to her chest, stroking his fur and cooing softly.

“I’m always here.” Minjun gives her a grin.

“Unfortunately~” Areum hums, pressing gentle kisses on the top of Byeol’s head and Minjun rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he shakes his head.

Areum grins, already feeling proud at already getting under her best friend's skin but you knew deep down that it was just a little joke, knowing first hand how they always bite at each other to try and get one of them to react and lose, adding another point to their mental tally chart.

She coos as she talks to Byeol, scratching below his chin and rubbing behind his ears as you smile at the sight, hearing his loud purrs resonate from where he’s sitting on her lap and Areum’s phone that’s been gripped in her hand vibrates loudly, causing her to pull away from Byeol for a moment to check her screen.

You watch as her brows raise slightly, a smirk spreading across her cheeks and her bottom lip gets caught between her teeth, thumbs quickly tapping against the phone before she raises her head up, looking over at you with an unfamiliar glint in her eye.

Your face scrunches up, confused. “Why are you looking at me?”

Areum cocks her head to the side, “How do you feel about experiencing your first college party tonight?”

The sight in front of you is definitely… something.

The house is a lot bigger than you anticipated, expecting to be brought along to a little apartment or even a club for your first official college party, but Areum had thrown you into a complete loop as she brought you to a not so little apartment or club that was already filled with drunk college students, some already even sprawled across the front lawn messily making out or even staring up at the sky giggling to themselves.

However, you grimace a little when you see someone come stumbling out of the house with their hand clamped over the mouth, barely making it towards a bush before emptying out their stomachs with the most gruesome of sounds.

A guy comes jogging out of the house shortly after with a water bottle in hand and his phone in the other, your mouth starts to feel a little dry, the attractiveness and confidence that oozes from him as he comes closer stuns you for a moment, the shyness taking over you when he grunts and squats down to tend to the drunken person with their head shoved into the bushes.

The tight black fitted shirt he wears shows off the muscles beneath, how they bulge and tense when he reaches out to caress the person’s back as they retch loudly and your eyes can’t help but shift to his thighs, how the pants are tightening around them which each movement and you gulp, pulling your attention away when you feel Areum slip her arm through yours.

“Seems like you got your hands full already.” Areum speaks first with a teasing tone that’s directed towards the guy and he raises his head, dark eyes glistening under the night sky as he grins at her.

“You got that right,” He chuckles softly, putting the water bottle down on the grass to run his fingers through his dark mullet, gazing at you. “You’re new. I’ve never seen you here before. I’m Jeno.”

You introduce yourself and he repeats your name back to you with a hum and a nod, then he smiles and wishes you a good time at the party before turning back to the person who had seemingly stopped throwing up, ordering them to drink the bottled water and saying how he’s going to call a cab for them to get home safely.

Minjun, who had been quiet this entire time watching every thing unfold, gently pushes your shoulder to get you to walk and Areum pulls you towards the house by your arm, the loud music blasting inside already hitting your eardrums and you’re instantly hit with the smell of alcohol and weed when you enter.

The inside is a lot more chaotic than the outside, you conclude.

Sweaty bodies pressed against each other as they dance or makeout, some even fondling each other to which you immediately avert your attention away when they glance your way. Others are in small groups talking and even playing drinking games, you can just about see a group playing cup pong from where you’re standing at the entrance.

Minjun leans down to murmur in your ear, “So, what do you think so far?”

“It’s…” You pause, pulling a face. “Something. Very crowded. There’s people everywhere.”

Minjun’s chest rumbles with a laugh, “And this isn’t even the half of it.”

Your eyes widen at the possible fact of there being more people in the house, already feeling overwhelmed and Areum’s hand slides down your arm to take your own, lacing her fingers through yours as she helps weave you through the crowds, Minjun hot on your tail as he follows behind.

You glance around while she leads you both to wherever she wants to go and you spot a couple lounging together on the sofa, the pretty blonde smiling at her boyfriend who’s gently tucking her hair behind her ears as he’s mumbling something to her and she nods, causing the boyfriend to grin and clink his drink against hers.

“Here,” Areum’s voice grabs your attention and your turn your head to look at her when you feel her hand slip from yours, noticing that she’s brought you to the kitchen where only a few partygoers are standing, nursing their drinks and chatting with friends. Areum opens the cooler and passes a beer over to Minjun who dips his head in silent thank you before turning to you, “Want a beer? A seltzer?”

“Beer.” You’re thankful she hands you one that you’re familiar with, the ones that the three of you have shared in your apartment during movie and game nights, immediately cracking it open to take a sip and the satisfying burn and flavour that that runs down your throat has you smiling.

It unfortunately doesn’t take long for you to start to feel out of place, your back pressed against a wall in the far corner of the kitchen as you watch Minjun smoke with a guy you overheard is called Sunwoo, a dopey grin smile spreading across his cheeks every time someone had waltzed up to him with money in their hand for one of his baggies that he takes out of his pocket to slip into theirs.

Areum had politely excused herself from you a few moments prior to greet someone you somewhat recognise as one of her previous hookups, watching as Areum’s hand slips around her waist to hold her close to her body and the girl lets out flirtatious giggles, winding her own arms around Areum’s shoulders as they whisper in each others ears.

You sigh, pursing your lips as you take a glance down at the beer in your hand, shaking the can slightly to feel how much drink was left for you to drink and you frown when you notice it’s empty. You push yourself off of the wall and discard your empty beer in the overflowing trash can, opting to open the cooler and grab another to keep yourself preoccupied but you’re startled when another hand reaches in too, brushing against your own.

“Oh, sorry—” The voice pauses mid sentence and you glance up, your eyes widening in surprise when you see Xiaojun staring back at you with a similar expression. “It’s you!”

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a smile, excitement flowing through your veins as Xiaojun gives you a welcoming side hug, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Xiaojun pulls back to adjust the backwards cap on his head, not before running his fingers through his hair. You take this moment to take in his appearance, surprised to see him out of his knitted sweaters and chinos which is replaced with a loose fitted grey tank top and dark jeans, showing off his physique which caught you off guard immensely, not expecting to see the muscles.

“My roommate told me to tag along,” You briefly explain to him, pulling your eyes away from his arms and he hums in understanding, handing you a beer before grabbing one for himself. “Are Mark and Jihoon here too?”

“Jihoon’s at home. This isn’t his, uh—” Xiaojun waves his hand around comically. “—type of scene, you know. Mark’s around here somewhere though, lost him when this girl tugged his arm wanting to speak to him in private.”

You make a small noise as you nod your head, assuming that it was another student proclaiming their attraction towards Mark as you have witnessed many times before, feeling bad every time Mark had rejected them even if he was sweet with his words.

The confidence that people had to confess their feelings to the person they liked always made you jealous, wishing you had the courage to admit your own likeness towards someone but you could never get it out, knowing that the words would constantly get stuck on the tip of your tongue and the fear of rejection wasn’t exactly something you wanted to experience.

So you always held back on telling people how you felt, especially if you liked them. But yet again, seemingly lucky for you, there has never really been anyone that you’ve truly liked. You’ve had small mindless crushes that you knew would lead into nothing and you’ve been in the presence of a few attractive people that definitely make your heart flutter, but it’s never enough to make you want to confess.

A gentle touch on your arm brings you out of your thoughts and you turn your head to see Minjun standing beside, a gesture to show that he was finally back with you and you couldn’t have been more happier to have more people at your side, giving him a smile to which he returns, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

“Oh. You’re the guy.” Xiaojun speaks up, eyebrows raised to his hairline in shock as he points at Minjun who looks back at him, seemingly confused but he slowly nods anyways which makes you snort quietly, finding the sight comical. “The drummer from that band, the one on her Instagram—LŒV, right?”

“Yeah,” Minjun hums in surprise before he makes a noise of realisation, piecing two and two together. “You must be one of the guys she told me about, that wanted to come see us play this weekend.”

You zone out of their conversation when Xiaojun praises him for his musical skills, the pair diving deep into the music discussion which usually you would’ve participated in any of time, but you find yourself getting distracted as you watch Areum delicately stroke the back of another girl that she’s talking with, pulling her in closely to whisper in her ear and laughing when the girl pushes her shoulder playfully before tugging her back in.

Your attention however pulls away from the pair when Areum places two fingers beneath her chin to bring her in for a kiss, feeling awkward to give them an audience and finding interest in a potted plant in the corner of the room, your lips quirking up into an amused smile when you see a drunk cradling it like a newborn, stroking the leaves and cooing.

The sight in front of you is hilarious and you would’ve taken out your phone to take a picture it if wasn’t for the fact you didn’t know this person, not really wanting to be caught and questioned taking pictures of someone you barely knew even if it would make a great memory… and definitely a great birthday card.

But your eyes flit away from the drunk to the guy that you met outside. Jeno, you remember his name. He strides into the house with a dark wet patch over the front of his clothes and an empty water bottle.

First, you grimace at the thought of that person he was taking care of outside throwing the water over him in a drunken fit, but then you feel a little warm and flustered when you realise that the water had made his shirt and pants stick to him more than it originally did, outlining his body perfectly, defining the muscles beneath the materials.

“Why are you ogling Jeno?”

“I’m not,” You immediately defend yourself, attention snapping back to Xiaojun who's already staring back at you with an amused smirk, raising his eyebrow. “I’m not.”

“Pretty sure you are,” Minjun joins in this time and you harden your gaze at him, causing him to grin. “You like him?”

“No.”

“He’s attractive, for sure,” Xiaojun hums, taking a glance at him over your shoulder and watching him as he disappears up the staircase, probably to change out of his wet clothes. “I wouldn’t get too close to him though,”

Now that piques your interest, “Why?”

Xiaojun opens his mouth, ready to tell you what you’re surprisingly desperate to hear until he closes his mouth, brows rising in shock when you feel someone's arms slip around your shoulders to bring your back into their chest.

You immediately recognise it as Areum, the sweet citrus smell of her perfume overwhelming your senses and you turn your head to the side to see her already smiling at you, giving you a comforting squeeze before letting you go to stand beside you to greet Xiaojun.

Xiaojun seems hypnotised by her beauty just like many others are and it doesn’t surprise you, the beauty and the confidence that radiates off of her is enough to have your own heart thumping in your chest and feeling shy whenever she meets your eyes or gives you a pretty smile.

“I’m Areum,” She introduces herself as she reopens the cooler to fetch herself another beer. “Her roomie.”

Xiaojun whispers back in a daze, “Hi roomie.”

The look on Xiaojun’s face was comical when it slipped into conversation that Areum wasn’t interested in men, his eyes widening and mouth dropping open in shock as he profusely apologised, worried that his dazed look and minor flirtatious comments made her uncomfortable but she shook her head, laughing as she explained everything was fine and that he had no way of knowing her preferences.

Still, the trio got along quite well and even Mark, who joined in a few minutes prior after complaining about how he was locked in the bathroom for five minutes, got along with Areum and Minjun too. It made you smile, seeing the people you liked getting along with each other and exchanging socials and numbers, it also made you miss Jihoon a little bit, wishing he was here so you could introduce them to your duo of friends.

However, you did make a mental list to remind yourself to text Jihoon tomorrow morning and tell him you’d add him to the groupchat that Xiaojun was desperate to make.

It doesn’t take long for you all to split from each other too: Areum grabbing your hand to steal you away for a little while and you were surprised that Minjun didn’t follow behind like he usually does, but you were happy to see him so comfortable enough to stick around with Mark and Xiaojun who were happily discussing music techniques and even other bands they both seemed to enjoy.

Areum brought you to the living room this time where the music blasted from the stereo, making it a lot harder to hear what she was saying to you but you managed, opting to lean in close so she could whisper in your ear and you did the same.

You’re feeling awkward and uncomfortable now though, nursing the third beer in your hand as everyone around you either dances or heavily makes out with the person they’ve come with or even just met, finding it hard to focus your attention on anything as in every corner you look, you see people wrapped up in each other.

A gentle touch is placed on your arm, “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” You hum, looking at Areum who is staring back at you worryingly. “Why?”

“You’ve gone quiet,” She points out and a frown makes its way onto your lips, “Want to go home?”

“What? No. It’s fine,” You quickly shake your head. “I don’t want to ruin your night.”

“You’re not ruining anything,” Areum chuckles softly and when her gaze flicks over your shoulder, you see the surprised look on her face. “Seems like you’ve got an admirer tonight.”

Her words have you making a noise of confusion and she nods in the direction of your so-called ‘admirer’ and you’re embarrassingly quick to whip your head around, not making your movements subtle at all which she snorts at in amusement.

Your heart thumps loudly in your ears as you spot Donghyuck manspreading on the sofa a few feet in front of you, long dark hair hanging over his eyes and a joint resting between his lips which he inhales deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs for what seems to be an eternity until he exhales, passing the joint over to Yangyang all while staring directly at you.

You feel hot beneath his intense stare, the dress you're wearing now seeming a little too tight and revealing that you subconsciously wrap your arms around yourself to cover up, not missing the way Donghyuck’s lips curl into a smirk before he brings a bottle up to his mouth, chugging the alcoholic beverage.

You clear your throat, “That’s Donghyuck.”

“I know.”

Your head snaps towards Areum in surprise, “You know?”

“Yeah, of course,” Areum laughs lightly as she puts down her empty beer can on the windowsill. She presses her lips together as she leans back against the wall with her hands shoved into her low cut jeans. “Everyone here pretty much knows Donghyuck. He’s best friends with Jeno and that group.”

“Jeno…” You repeat the familiar name and you jab your thumb in the direction to where he’s standing, now dressed up in something completely different than last: wearing a white and dark grey ombre dress shirt with the buttons left undone, revealing his toned chest. You couldn’t look at him for too long without feeling flustered. “Him?”

“It’s his house—” She pauses, “Their house. They all live together, all five of them. But the sixth one recently moved out to live with his girlfriend.”

“Oh,” You blink, the curiosity inside of you building. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”

“They’re well-known,” Areum shrugs nonchalantly. “Some might say popular, I guess. Everyone pretty much knows everything about them… For starters, Jeno is the main guy that throws all these parties. He’s kind of a gym freak and he’s secretly really smart, he’s an engineering student. Jeno’s also one of those quote unquote ‘renown fuckboy’. He dated Miwoo for a long while—she’s the black haired one wearing a pretty black dress—but they broke up,

“Jaemin is one of the quiet ones, kind of mysterious in some ways too. You’ll hardly ever see him that much though, but he does appear every now and again to be around Jeno—they’ve been best friends for years. He’s a photography student who used to be in a serious relationship with a girl named Eunbin but they broke up. He did end up having a friends with benefits relationship with one of the girls in the group and then they got together, she’s currently away on a writer's trip,

“Renjun’s also one of the quiet ones, more of an observer. He sits in silence the majority of the time but he’s mean when he wants to be, plus doesn’t exactly take shit from anybody either so he can be kind of intimidating to some people. He’s an art student, some of his work is showcased on the walls in the art department. He’s also dating the pretty blonde that he's sitting with his arm around right now—Haru,

“Shotaro is the friendly and cute one that constantly smiles no matter what type of situation he is in. He’s pretty chilled out, carefree. He’s a dance student too… a really good one. He’s practically the baby of their group—everyone has a soft spot for him. He did however end up getting into a fight with Hyunjin because Yeji—Hyunjin’s ex—kissed him at a party. But even though Hyunjin was the one that threw the first punch, he ended up looking worse than Shotaro thanks to Yangyang who jumped in,

“Yangyang is another renown fuckboy, practically fucks anyone with a pussy between their legs. I’m almost positive he has slept with the majority of the girls in this room. He drinks and smokes weed a lot, and recently he’s been taking some harder stuff until he can’t physically function too. He once had a crush on one of the girls in their group—Jaemin’s now girlfriend—but nobody really knows what happened between them. I’m assuming he kept his feelings to himself considering Jaemin and her are all coupled up now, but anyway. Yangyang’s best friend is Donghyuck, you probably won’t ever see one without the other, they’re like two peas in a pod,

“Donghyuck… he’s interesting, I guess. A jokester, pretty dramatic at times but he can also switch into his serious mode which hardly no-one has ever seen. He parties a lot, definitely can outdrink anybody in this room. Smokes weed too and pops a few pills thanks to Sunwoo. He’s a little emo too which gives him a lot of attention—he’s attractive, he knows it. He sleeps around a lot and with anyone too, he plays both teams. But something kinda flipped in him after a while when he got a little obsessed with Aisha who actually rejected him not so long ago—”

“Isn’t, like, obsessed too much of a harsh word?” You cut her off with a frown, not liking the way she explained him to you. “Maybe he just had a crush on her or something? A big one?”

Areum laughs at that, clearly amused as she shakes her head. “No, sweetheart. When I say obsessed, I mean obsessed. The thing with Donghyuck is that he gets obsessed with people he likes pretty quickly… It’s like he gets infatuated with them, wants to give them his all and more.”

You can’t help but ask, “Is Aisha the only one that he’s been… obsessed with?”

“I doubt it. I heard that Donghyick was once obsessed with Jeno when they first became friends. It’s not that shocking, to be honest. Jeno is an attractive looking guy,” Areum explains to you as she pulls her hand out of her pocket, now holding a strawberry flavoured vape and placing it between her lips to inhale. She blows the smoke out of the corner of her mouth, making sure not to aim towards your face. “Donghyuck’s obsession with people can be pretty intense and sometimes I think Aisha made a lucky escape, although I’m familiar with how much she enjoys attention so she’ll probably want it back once she realises he’s got a new obsession.”

“A new obsession?” Your brows raise in surprise at that and you lean in closer as if what she’s telling you is about to be top secret. “Who is his new obsession?”

The smirk that spreads across Areum’s cheeks makes your body buzz and heart beat rapidly in your chest, growing even more curious but also nervous to know the answer as you watch as she takes another quick inhale of her vape before glancing over your shoulder.

“Well, with the way he’s staring at you over there with that look in his eyes, I think you’re the next target,” Areum’s eyes meet yours. “You’re his new obsession, sweetheart.”

His new what?

“No I’m not,” A laugh forces its way out of your throat, a nervous one at that. You found it slightly ridiculous, really. There was absolutely no way that you could be his ‘new obsession’. It doesn’t make any sense. “He hardly knows me. We haven’t even spoken a word to each other… I think you’ve got it wrong.”

“Maybe,” She hums, eyes flickering over your shoulder once more. “But with the way he’s walking over here, I think I might be right on this one.”

He is what?

You’re glued in place, unable to turn around and see if she’s telling the truth or teasing you. The look on her face seems serious which makes you feel nervous, but the tone she uses is light which makes you think maybe she is playing tricks, wanting to tease you and see your reactions.

But it’s the deep call of your name and the warm hand touching your upper arm is what makes you realise that she is, in fact, not lying.

The nerves and the anxiety kicks in as you turn to face the person who had called out your name, your breath getting caught in the back of your throat as you meet Donghyuck’s dark eyes and that smile you have seen plenty of times before in class—the smile he always gives you when you catch his attention and when you meet his gaze.

Having been this close to him, Donghyuck, without a doubt, is prettier up close and your tummy flutters at the proximity, almost wanting to take a step back just to put some space between you so you can breathe properly, to conjure up a thought or to even start the conversation as it dawns on you how long you’ve been embarrassingly quiet for.

“Hi,” You greet him, mentally kicking yourself for how silly your voice sounded. You open your mouth to speak again and you immediately regret what comes out, “You’re the guy from my music class.”

One of Donghyuck’s brows lifts in amusement, seemingly surprised but also enjoying how you’re pretending you don’t already know him but he plays along anyways, nodding his head slowly with that smile that makes your hands clammy. “I’m Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck,” You repeat with a nod. His eyes darken at you saying his name, tongue coming out to sweep over his bottom lip to wet it. “I’m—”

“I know who you are.” He cuts you off and the embarrassment you feel amps up to a hundred, remembering how he called out your name a few moments prior. You’re unsure why you’re acting weird and awkward, maybe it was because he made you feel nervous.

“I’m going to get us another drink,” Areum tells you, placing her hand on your shoulder to get your attention and you turn to her, eyes widening at the thought of her leaving you. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

The second Areum slips into the crowd to head towards the kitchen area, Donghyuck takes her place by the wall, leaning against it comfortably as his ringed fingers run through his dark locks, pushing his bangs out of the way and revealing his forehead for a split moment before his hair falls back into place, the tips almost touching his eyes that never seem to leave you.

He finally asks, “Why did you pretend not to know me?”

“I don’t know,” You immediately reply, unable to stop yourself. “I didn’t mean it. I think I’m just nervous.”

The smile on his face widens before his bottom lip gets caught between his teeth, tilting his head to the side, “I make you nervous?”

“Big parties do,” You partially lie, clearing your throat. “People everywhere, you know… gets overwhelming.”

Donghyuck hums, “Right.”

“I’m serious,” You defend yourself for whatever reason and Donghyuck finds amusement in your voice and actions, eyes sparkling as you seemingly come out of your awkward shell for a few seconds, talking to him in a tone as you would with close friends and he even spots the corner of your lips twitching, almost smiling at him. “Being in a room crowded with people isn’t exactly something I enjoy.”

“I believe you,” He tells you softly. He wants to keep this conversation going, enjoying this side of you that’s slowly becoming comfortable with him already. He likes it, the sparkle in your eyes, the tone of your voice, the subtle peaceful expression on your face. He wants more. “Are you enjoying yourself here?”

That makes you pause. Are you enjoying yourself? You came with Areum and Minjun, two people who you enjoy being in the presence of. You stumbled across Xiaojun and Mark, two other people who bring enjoyment into your life and you were actually ecstatic when seeing Xiaojun for the first time earlier. The beer that was available in the cooler happened to be one of your favourite alcoholic beverages (you’ve had three of those already.) and the music that blasts from the speakers happens to be of a genre you listen to on the regular.

You finally have your answer, “It’s not so bad.”

“Could it be better?” Donghyuck presses and your lips press together in deep thought before shrugging your shoulders, somewhat agreeing. Donghyuck leans in towards you, “Could I make it better?”

Your brows pull together in confusion, “You can do that? How could you do that?”

Donghyuck can’t help but smile at that and you grow even more confused when he begins to laugh softly, shaking his head. You wonder if you said the wrong thing or if there was a certain meaning behind his question that you failed to pick up on.

A frown forms on your face due to you feeling a little stupid, thinking that he’s laughing at you or your dumb response and Donghyuck immediately notices you rebuilding the walls, how that look on your face that he adores slowly starts to slip and he straightens up against the wall, toning down his teasing.

“I like your dress, by the way.” His compliment shocks you, not expecting it to come from him and you instantly look down at your dress.

At first, you wonder what’s wrong with it. If there was a stain you didn’t notice or if there was a tear in the fabric, but then you come to terms with that fact there’s nothing wrong with the dress and, actually, it’s probably one of the best that you own. It doesn’t cling to your body uncomfortably nor does it seem loose, it fits you well.

You raise your head to thank him, but your words are stuck in the back of your throat when you notice the way he’s looking at you. He’s drinking you in, taking in your appearance, gaze roaming over the length of the dress with a deep inhale before his eyes snap back up to yours, the dark look returning.

“It’s pretty,” Donghyuck exhales, leaning his head back against the wall while keeping eye contact with you. “You’re really pretty.”

You’re flustered now. The attention from him becomes a bit too much and you find yourself feeling hot under his intense stare and there’s an unfamiliar feeling swirling in the pit of your tummy, something you’ve never felt before and it shocks you, but you try to not bring too much attention to it.

You debate on whether to thank him or to compliment him back on his own outfit: a loose graphic white shirt of a band you recognised paired with denim ripped jeans with chains hanging off the sides and a pair of doc martens on his feet. His signature leather jacket, one you’ve seen multiple times before in class, drapes across his shoulders.

He does look good (really good, but you won’t admit that part.)

As you open your mouth, surprisingly finding the confidence to compliment him on his own outfit choice, it gets taken away from you when Areum announces her return as she comes towards you with drinks in her hand, followed by Minjun, Xiaojun and Mark who decided to tag along.

You smile when Areum passes you a fresh drink, completely forgetting about the other that had become lukewarm in your hand and you’re unsure on what to do with it until it’s plucked from your grasp and you turn to look at Donghyuck who had taken it from you, clinking the can against your own in a small ‘cheers’ before he pushes himself off of the wall, his shoulder brushing yours as he heads back to where he originally came from.

You’re a little confused on why he left, watching as he drops down on the sofa beside Yangyang who looks like he’s exhausted, slouching against the sofa cushions and nodding to whatever Shotaro—you remembered him from when Areum pointed him out—was talking about and Donghyuck takes the joint from between his fingers, leaning against Yangyang as he takes a drag all while watching you.

It’s almost deja vu, the whole scene reminding you of earlier when he was looking at you from afar before he came on over to introduce himself. You find him odd, extremely odd, but you can’t deny the fact how intriguing he is.

“So,” Areum’s voice grabs your attention. “How was it?”

“Fine,” You quip, turning to face the four. “He seemed fine. Nothing about that conversation screamed ‘I’m obsessed with you’ so, I think you were wrong with that one.”

Mark almost drops his beer, the alcohol sloshing and spilling over his hands as it almost slips from his fingers as he stares at you in shock, mouth agape, “Dude… you’re the next target?”

You deadpan, “Can you stop calling me a target? It feels like I’m about to get assassinated.”

Xiaojun frowns, giving you a look of sympathy as he steps in closer to pat your back comfortingly, “You poor thing… my condolences. Stay strong, soldier.”

"Be quiet."

An hour or two later you find yourself standing outside to get some fresh air alone, staring down at the liquid in your cup. You’re not sure how many you’ve had but you hate how you’re unable to feel the buzz that’s affecting those who are around you, glancing up at the few strays of people that are stumbling across the well-kept grass or are giggling to themselves as they stare up at the star filled sky.

You wonder at first if the drink you have isn’t actually alcoholic, but from the reactions of your friends (who had been drinking the same brand with you the majority of the night.) they were already tipsy, or in Xiaojun’s case, drunk.

Maybe you just weren’t feeling it.

First college party jitters, Areum had called it when you had confided in her about the problem and you were undoubtedly embarrassed to hear her call it that, but she had reassured you that it was fine and that it was normal, and even she had experienced something similar when she came to her first college party at the beginning of the year.

Still, it made you feel embarrassed.

With a heavy sigh, you finish the rest of your drink, pulling a face at the burn that trickles down the back of your throat as you turn on your heel to head back inside where your friends are but you crash into something hard, causing you to stumble backwards in shock and a pair of hands come out to grab your elbows, steadying you on your feet.

“Careful, princess.” The person speaks. Any other time, the pet name would’ve made you flustered, especially with that deep tone, but you barely acknowledge it as you try to shake yourself out of your startled state and you wince when you put too much pressure on your ankle, figuring you must’ve twisted it awkwardly when you bumped into the stranger.

You curse under your breath as you feel the throb but you try not to pay too much attention to it as you finally meet eyes with Donghyuck who is already staring back at you, the grip he has on your elbows tightening slightly as you make eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry.” You apologise instantly, “I didn’t see you.”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck dismisses it with a shake of his head and his attention drops down to your ankle, his brows pulling together. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Oh, yeah, just a bit. But it’s fine, honest—”

The words get caught at the back of your throat as Donghyuck kneels down onto the grass to inspect the damage, cold fingers delicately touching your leg and trailing down to your ankle, the sudden action causing goosebumps to rise to your skin and you can just make out the corner of his lips twitching.

He traces the area with the pads of his fingertips slowly, suddenly aware of how close he’s leaning in as you feel his breath fan over your calf. His hand takes a hold of your ankle gently and carefully not to hurt you, the delicate strokes of his thumb sending a shiver up your spine and you wonder if he notices how nervous you’ve become.

Donghyuck presses his fingers down on a certain spot on your ankle and you hiss in surprise at the throb that comes with it, your hand instinctively slapping down on his shoulder in retaliation for the pain he caused but your mouth drops open in surprise while he glances up at you with a grin, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“It’s not broken or anything,” He informs you before you could start to apologise again for your sudden actions, raising back up onto his feet. “You just twisted it awkwardly when you bumped into me.”

“Do you major in nursing alongside music or something?”

Donghyuck smiles at that, a laugh leaving his lips. “No. I’m just good at knowing my way around a body,” You immediately pick up the suggestive tone in his voice and your brows raise in surprise, feeling flustered and shy under his gaze that doesn’t waver from you. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve crashed into me—”

“Accidently.”

“Right,” He hums. “What’s that saying? Once is a mistake, twice is a coincidence—”

“And three times is a pattern,” You finish. “It’s not a coincidence or pattern. Both are mistakes. I don’t go walking around searching for you in hopes to bump into you.”

“Aw, that’s a shame.”

“That I’m not purposely bumping into you?”

“That you’re not searching around for me.”

Your face grows hot at his forwardness and your eyes flick downwards to a patch of grass you suddenly find interest in, the shyness that creeps upon you making it hard for you to look at him.

Donghyuck remains staring at you and the corner of his lips curl into a smirk, amused at how easily you seem to be flustered when it comes to him already. He basks in it, he loves knowing how much he affects you and it excites him even more when he dips his head to meet your eyes but you avert your attention elsewhere.

He dips his hand into his jean pocket to pull out a singular pack of cigarettes, “Do you want one?”

“I don’t smoke.”

Donghyuck pauses, his fingers ghosting over the opening of the pack. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

You frown and that's when you look up to meet his eyes, confused. “Why wouldn’t I mind?”

“Some people don’t like being around smokers,” Donghyuck shrugs. “The smell and all.”

“I’m at a party where the air reeks of cigarettes, weed and alcohol,” You point out, a smile slowly starting to form on your lips. “I wouldn’t be here if I minded the smell. And besides, I can smell the weed on your clothes from earlier too and I haven’t said a word about it. I’m fine.”

He blinks once, twice, “Do I smell bad?”

“No,” You rush out to reassure him, shaking your head. “No, not at all. You smell fine.”

“Just fine?”

“You smell good.” You correct yourself.

The smirk returns as he tilts his head to the side, “Yeah?”

You come to a conclusion that he definitely enjoys making you embarrassed and flustered, and you let out a breathy laugh, tongue prodding at your cheek in slight annoyance at how easy it is for him to make you feel this way.

If it was anyone else, you fight back. You always fight back. Being roommates with Areum and close friends with Minjun, Xiaojun, Mark and Jihoon had made you defensive, being a victim to their countless teasing and jokes you had learned over time to return it.

But unfortunately there is something about Donghyuck that makes your words get caught in the back of your throat and your mind go completely blank, unable to think properly or even say something back.

“Whose is this?” Donghyuck’s already changing the subject, almost giving you whiplash at how easily he can switch to different topics without hesitating or missing a beat. His fingers reach out to touch Minjun’s jacket that’s draped over your shoulders, something that he had given you to keep you warm while you stepped outside. Donghyuck hums, brows pulling together. “You weren’t wearing this earlier.”

“Oh.” Your own fingers graze over the leather jacket. “It’s Minjun’s.”

Donghyuck drily asks, “Who?”

“He’s a friend.”

Donghyuck clicks his tongue against his teeth with a hum, “Yeah, well, your friend's jacket is covering this pretty dress of yours.”

The tone in his voice made your brows raise in surprise, the slight annoyance and disapproval of Minjun’s jacket covering—what he claims—a pretty dress was something you weren’t expecting, although it made your chest blossom with warmth and your face grew hot at the subtle compliment.

He’s not speaking now, which makes you feel a bit awkward having to stand in silence with him, minus the music that’s blasting from inside the house and a few lingering people out in the garden that are having drunken conversations around you. His lips are pressing together tightly, jaw locking and unlocking as his brows furrow as if he’s thinking deeply about something, fidgeting in his spot with his fingers twitching around his own jacket after he retracted them from Minjun’s.

You think maybe it’s time for you to leave, to say your goodbyes and find your friends so you can be free of the awkward tension you’re feeling. You want to stay with him though, not exactly eager to disappear away from him so soon just like how he practically walked away from you earlier when the others had come to join the conversation.

“Do you want another drink?” You catch yourself asking him before you could ever register the question in your head and your heart thumps wildly in your chest as Donghyuck slowly turns to look at you, “I mean, I noticed your hands are empty—and I want another drink too, so…”

Donghyuck stares at you for a moment longer before a smile breaks out onto his lips and he nods, agreeing to get another drink from the kitchen with you. But what you didn’t expect was Donghyuck to hold out his hand, wiggling his fingers enticingly in the air to coax you into taking his hand in your own.

You’re hesitant to take it, not wanting him to feel how clammy your palms already are and you most definitely didn’t want to embarrass yourself for being so nervous during this entire interaction.

“I don’t bite, you know,” He says with a whisper and it sends shivers tingling down your spine at how close he leans in to tell you that. He tilts his head to the side as he smirks, “Unless—”

“DONGHYUCK!”

The unfamiliar voice that shouts out his name startles you and your head whips around so fast you swear you hear a crack, immediately noticing a pretty, long haired girl stumble out of the backdoor of the house, almost tripping over her own heels before she collects herself, bringing her hand up to her forehead and squinting as she scans the garden for the boy in question.

You slowly face Donghyuck again and he’s still looking at you, not even paying attention to the calls of his name that echo throughout the garden, not even flinching at the loudness. He’s still holding his hand out to you, waiting for you to take it so you could both go inside but you feel as if maybe it’s the wrong thing to do right now, looking back and forth between him and the girl.

You state, “Someone is calling for you.”

“I know, she’s drunk, ignore her,” Donghyuck dismisses it with a shake of his head and he reaches out further towards you, fingertips brushing over the top of your hand. “Let’s go get that drink, princess. Yeah?”

You don’t even get the chance to decide to accept or decline as the girl approaches you both and immediately throws herself at Donghyuck and punches his arm repeatedly, rambling about something that he had kept hidden from ‘the rest of them’ and she even goes as far as shoving her hand into the front pocket of his jeans.

You blink away awkwardly, unsure of what to do or even to say but you look back at the pair when she pulls out a small bag of weed with a wail of victory.

“I knew you fucking had it,” She hisses, landing another punch on his arm and he rolls his eyes, trying to snatch it out of her grasp but she pulls it away quickly out of his reach, almost bumping into you in the process and her eyes widen in surprise. “Shit, I’m sorry!”

You shake your head, “It’s fi—”

“Miwoo.” Donghyuck speaks her name through gritted teeth and it instantly rings a bell, remembering that she was one of the girls that Areum had told you about earlier, one of Donghyuck’s best friends exes. “Why don’t you take the weed and go share it with Yangyang? Yeah?”

“You’re really pretty,” Miwoo completely ignores Donghyuck to compliment you, eyes checking you out from head to toe with a smile that makes you feel a little flustered but it disappears, replacing with a grimace as she jabs her thumb back at Donghyuck, “Why are you talking to him?”

Donghyuck’s hand comes up to rub the bridge of his nose, seemingly getting frustrated with his friends words and you can’t help but smile at that, finding the situation a little comical and you watch as Donghyuck manages to get her attention, the pair getting warped into a miniature argument that has you trying to bite back your amusement, pressing your lips together tightly to try and not smile even wider.

Although, your watching moment is cut short when you hear Areum call out your name and you turn to look over your shoulder to see her beckoning your forwards and you nod, wanting to politely bid your goodbyes to Donghyuck and Miwoo but you decide against it when you them at each other's throats with petty insults, quickly making your escape to Areum who loops your arms with hers, tugging you back into the house where the others are patiently waiting for you.

Donghyuck notices your disappearance almost immediately and his shoulders drop with a sigh, glaring at Miwoo who isn’t the least affected by his darkened gaze as she dips her fingers inside the baggy to pull out a pre-rolled joint.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I know,” Miwoo grins before she meets Donghyuck’s eye, “She’s really pretty.”

“Yeah, I know,” Donghyuck mumbles under his breath, tongue prodding at his cheek in annoyance as he rips the bag and the joint out of Miwoo’s hands. “Give me that. You don’t deserve it, asshole.”

The amusement on your face is obvious when Xiaojun and Mark step into the Dreamies Café, both dressed in oversized hoodies and wearing sunglasses to block out the brightness of the sun and the lights from burning their eyes, arms dangling at their sides as they drag their feet across the flooring towards the table where you and Jihoon are sat waiting for them.

You arrived ten minutes before the two of them did and you were surprised to already see Jihoon sitting at the table with everyone's preferred drinks, and even when you tried to hand over the money for your own, he just looked at you as if you deeply offended him and swatted your hand away before pulling out a chair and telling you to sit.

Xiaojun doesn’t seep a word as he slumps down in the seat opposite you, but he does gesture a quick thank you to Jihoon for the drink and he lifts the straw to his lips to take a long sip, chest rumbling with a satisfied hum as he relaxes into his seat, the ice clinking in his iced matcha as he continuous to drink.

“Hey,” Mark greets you both as he sits on the seat at the end of the table, fingers curling around the plastic cup of his watermelon ade as he glances over at Jihoon. “Thanks, man. I’ll venmo you the money.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jihoon dismisses with a wave of his hand. “It’s on me anyways. You paid for my drink last time we were here,” His gaze suddenly flicks over to Xiaojun, the corner of his lips twitching. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” Xiaojun grumbles, craning his head back. “But fuck those cocktails tasted good.”

“You know, you’re probably going to have to give Jeno the money back for raiding his stash.”

“Actually, it belonged to Yangyang,” Xiaojun corrects as he digs his hand through the front of his jean pockets, pulling out his phone and swiping up to get to his notification bar and he angles the screen towards the three of you with a grimace. “He dmed me on Instagram this morning telling me to pay him back but I’m not even going to open it.”

“Dude,” Mark gives him a pointed look. “You can’t do that.”

“But I can,” Xiaojun locks his phone and places it down on the table with a grin. “And I will.”

Jihoon murmurs, “But you drank his stuff without his permission.”

“He uses my laptop in classes without my permission!” Xiaojun argues back immediately, “It’s payback.”

“You shouldn’t have given him your password.”

“I didn’t. I gave it to Donghyuck because he wanted—” Xiaojun suddenly pauses, blinking a few times as he registers his own words before smacking his lips together with a nod, exhaling deeply through his nose. “Yeah. That’s my fault. Should’ve guessed Donghyuck wouldn’t keep his mouth shut about that.”

The mention of Donghyuck has you thinking back on last night and a subtle smile makes its way onto your lips, twisting the straw of your coffee in between your teeth as you go over the interaction in your head.

The smirk he always has, the tone of his voice as he speaks to you, the way he always keeps eye contact and doesn’t even falter once when something else is going on around him. His somewhat flirtatious comments and his lingering touches is what surprises you the most, but you tell yourself that maybe that’s just his personality.

He’s like that with everyone, he must be.

“What’s got you smiling over there?” A teasing voice breaks you out of your thoughts, startling you as your head shoots up and you see Xiaojun grinning at you across the table, chin resting on the palm of his hand as he waits for you to explain the reason for your smiling but you remain tight lipped, causing his grin to drop. “Don’t be like that.”

“Don’t be nosy.” You fire back jokingly.

A soft call of your name makes you turn your head to Jihoon, “Did you enjoy the party yesterday?”

“It was fine,” You nod your head. “Didn’t get as drunk as everyone else did, but it was fine. College parties can be kind of overwhelming though,” You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly as you admit, “I don’t know why but I didn’t expect that many people to be there…”

“Yeah, Jeno is pretty well-known,” Mark hums as he takes a sip through his straw, leaning back in his seat comfortably. “Don’t get me wrong, like, that entire group are pretty much well-known but it’s mainly Jeno that gets the most attention and rallies everyone up for parties.”

“Areum kind of explained everything to me about them last night,” You say. “They’re an interesting group, I think. They also come across as a little intimidating apart from Shotaro… he was just smiling the entire night.”

“Shotaro’s sweet,” Mark agrees, nodding his head. “Also, once you get to really know them, they aren’t that intimidating—”

“I don’t know about that. Renjun still makes my skin crawl.” Xiaojun interrupts with a shiver.

“Renjun’s just not a people person,” Mark explains with a shrug of his shoulders. “He’s actually really nice if you have a one on one conversation with him,” Mark then turns his attention back on you, “But seriously, none of them are that intimidating once you get to really know them or be around them. Take Yangyang and Donghyuck for example, we don’t find either of them ‘intimidating’ since we share a class with them.”

“They’re just annoying,” Xiaojun chimes in again with a grimace on his face. “Especially Yangyang.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that, “What’s your problem with Yangyang?”

“Yangyang likes to annoy people a lot,” Jihoon is the one to explain to you as Xiaojun rubs at his temples at the mere thought of Yangyang. “He enjoys getting on people's nerves and, fortunately for him, Xiaojun reacts to everything he does so that just makes him do it even more… although, he hasn’t really been doing anything lately. He’s just been kinda numbed out.”

You hum, “Areum also mentioned that he indulges himself into some hard shit, alongside the weed and the alcohol.”

“That’s heartbreak for you, I guess.” Mark mumbles under his breath with a frown, tone sullen and your brows pull together in confusion, wanting to question it a little bit more but you struggle to find the opportunity when another topic is brought up.

“And obviously you know so much about Donghyuck already.”

“No I don’t,” You snip, sending a hard look Xiaojun’s way as he bats his pretty eyelashes at you. You repeat, “No I don’t”

“You were outside in the garden with him for quite some time last night~”

“I’m surprised you even remembered that considering when I walked back into the house, you were on your eighth shot dancing with one of the kitchen chairs.”

“Hey,” Xiaojun points his finger at you, “I may have been drunk but this brain of mine remembers everything.” He then smiles at you, “What did you guys talk about? Did he mention that you’re now his new obsession?”

Jihoon almost spits out his drink, “You’re his new obsession?”

“Why do you all call it that?” You huff with a frown, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed over your chest. “It sounds mean—and wrong.”

“It’s kinda the truth,” Mark gives you a sorry expression. “Donghyuck does get obsessed with people and I’m almost positive he even knows it himself… He falls for people hard and he becomes so infatuated with them until they say they want nothing to do with him, and he just… stops.”

“He was into Aisha before,” Xiaojun states but you already knew that from Areum’s previous explanation. “He liked her a lot and I’m pretty sure she was into it for a while considering she flirted back and there were even rumours that they hooked up, like, once or twice… but I guess she got bored with that so she made up a lie and told Donghyuck that she was dating Mark—”

“Me. Of all people.” Mark points to himself in disbelief and shakes his head, the expression on his face being enough to get a laugh out of you.

“I mean, I would believe it,” Jihoon shrugs his shoulders, causing Mark to look at him incredulously. “Come on, you once walked out of a bathroom with her at a Halloween party with your spider-man costume unzipped and your mask gone—”

“I had to fucking piss really bad and I couldn’t get out of the costume because I was drunk so she helped me,” Mark immediately defends himself, a pout forming on his lips. “Besides, it was hot, I wasn’t going to wear the mask all night.” He then fires back up, “I wouldn’t fuck someone in dingy club’s disgusting bathroom, dude!”

Xiaojun blinks, “You lost your virginity in a cheap motel room with your ex-girlfriend.”

Mark bites back, “You lost yours in your grandma's basement, shut up.”

“Okay, wow, uncalled for.”

“Don’t argue…” Jihoon sighs, rubbing his forehead at their raised voices and your brows raise as the pair both turn to look at Jihoon with blank expressions before they speak in sync.

“You lost yours in the college janitor closet and got caught.”“Wait, really?” You gape at Jihoon in shock, not expecting someone like a quiet and socially awkward Jihoon to do something so scandalous on campus grounds. But your shock dies down and morphs into shyness when you realise the trio are now looking at you, expecting you to chime in with your own embarrassing virginity story but the problem was, you had none. Your virginity is still intact.

“Do you not have one?” Mark questions after a few minutes of awkward silence and you shake your head, avoiding his eyes. He questions genuinely again, not a hint of teasing in his tone as he whispers quietly. “Are you a virgin?”

You nod.

“Aww…” Xiaojun coos softly, causing your head to snap towards him as he smiles sweetly at you, “That’s cute.”

Your face immediately burns with embarrassment as you sink further down into your seat, a deep frown settling on your lips, “Don’t ever call my virginity cute again.”

“Wow… I’m immensely impressed,” Professor Kim mumbles under his breath as he slips the headphones off of his head after listening to a little recording you had made on your computer, his lips curled into satisfied grin as he places the headphones down on the table and you beam happily, glancing between him and your computer screen. “I’m also really impressed that you finished this today. I was expecting you to show me the finished product by at least next week… I’m grateful that you take this class seriously.”

“I enjoy music,” You tell him honestly as you tap your fingers nervously on your desk, “Is there anything I need to change or to work on?”

“There’s nothing you need to work on, it sounds great,” He compliments yet you prepare yourself for the rest, “But for changes? I would like to encourage you to partner up with some of the other students in the class, work together on a piece and let your music styles blend together to see how well it compliments each other, or even try and create something new.”

“So, like a group project?”

“Exactly,” Professor Kim nods. “Like I said, you’re impressive. You’re an amazing guitarist and pianist, your music is incredible when you’re solo. But I would like to hear it within a group too. Yangyang is an incredible bass player that you can maybe add. Xiaojun and Aisha are amazing vocalists, Donghyuck too and he’s also great at the guitar. Jihoon is talented with the keyboard and Mark can do just about everything. Seriously, think about it. I would love to hear how you sound within a group.”

With a kind smile and a gentle pat to your shoulder, Professor Kim excuses himself to go talk to another student, leaving you alone to think about his words.

It’s not that you didn’t want to work in a group. You’re almost positive that working with your friends will be a fun type of chaotic mess that will have your stomach cramping and tears streaming down your cheeks from laughing so much.

It’s just that you didn’t know how to work in a group. You’ve always been independent in some sort of sense, especially with your own creations. You preferred sitting alone with your headphones snug on your head, testing out different sounds and techniques all by yourself, choosing what sounds best and what suits your needs.

But working in a group? Settling on one thing that will make each of you happy? That is foreign territory… that is stressful.

“So, what did he say to you?” Jihoon asks with a gentle nudge at your shoulder to get your attention and you pull your eyes away from your laptop screen to give him a tight lipped smile.

“He liked it. He just wants me to try out group work,” You almost start pleading, “Got any room in your group project for me to fit in?”

“Sure,” Jihoon nods with a kind smile, “Although I feel like I should probably warn you by saying that sometimes it’s not just me, Mark and Xiaojun working together… Donghyuck and Yangyang sometimes come back and forth, especially for Mark.”

Your brows raise in surprise, “They’re in your group too?”

“Not exactly. It’s more like them coming to us when we’re working to borrow Mark for their project,” Jihoon explains to you as he nods over at Mark who’s currently leaning on a desk with Donghyuck and Yangyang at his sides, peering over his shoulder to look at his laptop screen. “Mark pretty much floats in and out of other people's groups. It’s what you get for being an allrounder I guess.”

“Professor Kim mentioned something like that.” You mumble as you watch the trio, the corner of your lips twitching upwards in a slight smile as Mark scoffs at something Donghyuck says, swatting him away with his hand as Donghyuck grins mischievously and murmurs something in his ear, causing Mark to push at his head this time and Donghyuck stumbles back with a laugh.

Yangyang remains silent, idly drumming his fingers on the desk and rubbing tiredly at his sullen eyes beneath his hood. He seems to stop when turning his body towards you, as if looking your way to which makes your back straighten up, especially when Donghyuck’s head whips around at a mumble from Yangyang, looking directly at you.

From across the room, Donghyuck smiles that crooked grin of his and his eyebrow quirks up when he sees that you’re already staring back at him. You can feel the warmth rising to your cheeks at being caught, and though you try to suppress the shy feeling that creeps in, you know he can already tell exactly how you’re feeling as his eyes twinkle with amusement, tilting his head to the side as if to tease you even more.

Donghyuck’s eyes never leave you as you turn away, trying to busy yourself with something else as your heart thumps wildly in your ears, feeling too overwhelmed to glance back at Donghyuck despite seeing him in your peripheral vision.

“You really have caught his attention,” Jihoon mutters beside you with a chuckle and you whip around to face him, eyes wide. “I thought that maybe Xiaojun and Mark were teasing you… but I guess Donghyuck really has started to take a liking to you. You are his new obsession.”

#nct dream fic #nct dream au #nct series #haechan au #haechan fic #haechan series #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #fic: you'll never find anyone like me #neo tech college series

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pandoraslxna · 1 year

Text

A lesson on concentration

adult Neteyam x female omatikaya reader x adult Neytan

Words: 5.6k

Summary: Lately, you can’t seem to focus on any of your training lessons in preparation for your upcoming iknimaya and your karyu [teacher] are determined to find out why.

Warnings: explicit smut, teacher / student dynamics, sexual tension, praise kink, teasing, tail pulling, dirty talk, mmf threesome, oral, fingering, p in v, creampie, spitroasting, cum swallowing, bratty reader, minimal age difference (reader is 20, twins are 27), not tagging this as incest because they don’t physically engage with each other only with the reader but if that makes you uncomfortable- don’t read it.

Notes: Huge thanks to my beloved @cinetrix for creating the delicious image above! (And thanks to @sugarcorpselyn for the name inspo!!) It was such an honor for me to bring Neytan to life and I hope you guys like him. 😏🫶🏻

Na‘vi translations:

iknimaya - rite of passage into adulthood

numeyu - student(s)

tanhì - (little) star

paskalin - honey

karyu - teacher

sevin - pretty

Aren’t twins supposed to be identical?

That’s what you always thought. Not that you came across many twins in your life before, except for this strange pair. But it was true, right? Twins are supposed to be alike. Not just by their physical appearance, but by personality, the way they would act, too.

Jake once told you, that they were identical when they were babies. They would cry and sniffle, giggle and coo all the same way. But otherwise than their looks, there was barely any resemblance between these two now.

Except for the fact that both of them were, what the rest of the clan would describe as, perfect. The golden twins of the Sully’s.

The two of them had been the best at pretty much everything since they were kids. Whether it was climbing or running or even weaving, none of the other children could keep up with them. And it got even worse when they got older. Both twins had mastered the ability to hunt with great precision, accuracy and success at the young age of fourteen. It was no surprise that they completed their iknimaya at the age of fifteen at first try.

Neteyam and Neytan are twins. Counterparts, equals, yet opposite.

Neteyam was kind, responsible and sympathetic. He wasn’t just a gifted child, he worked hard to earn himself his place in the clan. He was grateful and set a good example, not just for his siblings but also for the young warriors that he trained for their iknimaya.

While Neytan, well… Neytan was a smug little bastard. Arrogant even. He clearly enjoyed to put himself above others and as the first born son of the toruk makto (by five whole minutes), he carried himself with pride. It was hard for any of his numeyu to live up to his expectations, which was unfortunate for you, because you were one of them.

"Breath in. Hold it."

Holding your bow high and flexed, an arrow nocked at the ready, you inhale deeply, straightening your spine to hold position. Neteyam’s hand on your stomach sends tingles through your whole body that you could hardly ignore and when his chest comes in contact with your back as he leans in closer, your hands begin to tremble.

"Focus", Neteyam murmurs, a pair of fingertips guiding your wrists to aim at the target, while stabilizing them enough to stop them from shaking. His warm breath fans over the top of your head, making you utterly aware of how close he was to you in this moment.

A third hand suddenly taps your elbow, urging you to correct your stance as it slowly begins to falter, the longer Neteyam holds you close like this. It’s Neytan, who stands next to you with his arms crossed over his chest, but instead like Neteyams eyes that were fully concentrated on the target, he was looking right at you. You felt his eyes burn themselves into the side of your face, making you forget that you were supposed to hold your breath for a second.

When Neteyam steps back, your arms already begin to ache from holding them in position for quite some time now. Still, you hold your stance and keep your eyes on the target as best as you could.

"Very good, just like that", Neteyam praises softly, causing your cheeks to blush.

As much as you tried not to let yourself get distracted by the fluttering of butterflies in your stomach— the ones that wriggled and writhed, the ones that made your legs buckle, you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched in your throat.

There was a moment of silence as you waited, the Yerik in front of you stopping to graze, oblivious to its fate. The only sound was the clicking of animals and the soft whisper of the wind, blowing through the crowns of the trees.

"And… shoot!"

Right command, an arrow whizzed through the air, but it misses the Yerik completely and hits the bark of a tree instead. You watch your prey run off into the depths of the forest, feeling your stomach drop in disappointment.

"Argh! Fuck!" You shout, your voice echoing through the forest, sending birds scattering to the sky and ruining all chances of finding another animal to hunt in the next couple of hours.

"Great. Good job", Neytan scoffed sarcastically.

Like a child throwing a tantrum, you slam your bow to the ground and cross your arms over your chest, mumbling curses and what not under your breath.

Next to you, Neteyam sighs deeply. With a caressing hand on your cheek he tells you, "It’s okay, tanhì. We‘ll try again, go get your bow."

The nickname he had chosen specifically for you, the one that normally did wonders when he tried to cheer you up, did little to make you feel better now. You weren’t just disappointed in yourself for failing yet again, you were embarrassed too. Embarrassed, because you surely would’ve mastered your iknimaya by now, if it weren’t for them.

You knew it wasn’t fair to blame them, but ever since they had decided to train you in private lessons, it had become increasingly difficult for you to make any progress. When you were still training with the other students as a rather big group, you had already been struggling to keep your mind clean and not think about the two handsome twins like that. But now, with all the physical contact, the close proximity, the nicknames... it was impossible for you to stay concentrated at all.

"What’s up with you today, huh?"

Neytan cocked his head to the side, braids swaying over his muscular shoulders as his eyes scanned you up and down. Despite the way his intense gaze made you squirm, you dared to roll your eyes, thinking he might not notice with the way you held your head down and stared at the ground.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" So much for that. You still don’t look directly at him, but you can see the way he moves closer to you in the corner of your eyes.

Feeling a little too bold for your own good, you mumble quietly under your breath, "if you would’ve focused, maybe you—"

"Watch it, tanhì", Neytan cuts you off, mocking his brothers nickname for you, which finally makes your eyes snap in his direction. The oldest Sully was almost towering over you now, arms still crossed over his chest and eyes squinted as if he was trying to see right through your façade. Instinctively, your ears flattened against the side of your head.

"Nothing’s up with me today", you sigh in defeat. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, your eyes find the ground again, keeping up your little game of pretending to be very interested in counting every single blade of grass below your feet.

It’s Neteyam that finally speaks up, his voice sounding closer than it was before, but also more soft, compared to his brothers. "You’re unfocused. More than usually." You completely miss the way they exchange looks, silently communicating in a way that only twins do.

"I‘m not…"

"Yes, you are", he chuckles and the sound of it sends heat to your cheeks. "What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?"

"Nothing!", it comes out as fast as a gunshot, making you wince because you couldn’t possibly be any more obvious, "I don’t even know what you’re t—"

"She thinks we’re stupid, brother", Neytan laughs, nudging his brothers side with his elbow before he looks back at you. "Do you really think we’re that dense? That we didn’t notice?"

Helplessly, your eyes search for Neteyams. His expression is soft like always, a gentle smile on his lips and you feel warmth spread in your core, nerves fluttering in your stomach at the way he looks back at you. Normally, he’s the one to calm his twin. The one that makes sure he takes it easy on you, to give you a second chance when you mess up again. But something was different today.

You jump when a finger suddenly hooks under your chin and tilts your head slightly. "Don’t look at him. Look at me", Neytan says lowly. A wave of goosebumps tingles down your arms and up the nape of your neck as you blink up at the other twin. He grins sharply and raises a brow, "So, are you going to admit it? Or do you want us to speak it out for you?"

Hesitantly, you shake your head no. Neither option sounded very appealing to you right now, as you felt like a little mouse caught in a trap, stared down by two big, blue, hungry cats.

"You’re adorable, tanhì", Neteyam chuckles from beside you. You could feel the warmth of his hand as it settles on your arm, gently tracing your stripes while he speaks. "I think you’re not paying any attention to your lessons because your mind is elsewhere." There’s a pause, a split second where both twins look at each other and then back at you, before he continues, "But we could help you with that."

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish stuck on land, but no words seem to come out as your eyes flick back and forth between the two of them. The sudden urge to squeeze your thighs together overcomes you, adding pressure to the burning heat between your legs that you were trying so hard to ignore this whole time. Had you really been this obvious to them?

"What’s wrong? Palulukan‘s got your tongue?", Neytan chuckles. The finger he had hooked under your chin finally moves, his hand cupping your face now and his thumb traced the outline of your bottom lip, blown pupils following along. "My brother has been talking about those pretty lips day and night, you know? Made me want to have a taste of them too."

Swallowing thickly, a wave of confidence seized up inside you. "W-Wouldn’t it be unfair to… to be the first to taste them then?" You say quietly, almost whispering.

Neytans eyes widen at that. "Bold", he scoffs with a smirk and you watch the way his tongue swipes over his own lips to wet them. Thinking he’ll mostly likely ignore you, smug bastard that he was, it actually takes you by surprise when he steps aside, allowing Neteyam to take his place.

"My pretty little tanhì", he muses, reaching up to take your face in both of his big, warm palms. His thumbs gently draw circles on your cheeks and you watch the way his eyes scan over every little detail on your face, admiring the pattern of your bioluminescence freckles that earned you this nickname a while ago. "You want me to kiss you, hm?" Yes. "Make you feel good?" Please. "I‘ll help you get rid of all these filthy thoughts in your head so you can focus again, how’s that sound?"

Swallowing back a whimper, you nod quickly.

Your eyes are half lidded now and standing on your very tip toes you part your lips slightly, preparing for him to finally lean in and kiss you. But instead of your lips, he delivers a small peck to your cheek. And another one to your jaw. Your throat is next. You squeeze your eyes shut, squirming as you let him shower you in tingling kisses. You then feel him deepen the kiss, his tongue lapping over your pulse point, making you shiver, as he sucks hickeys to your skin.

Once he’s done, he travels further down to nose at your collarbone. "You always smell so sweet", Neteyam tell you lowly, before he moves back to your throat and inhales deeply. "It’s hard for me to concentrate too, you know? But I’m a lot better at hiding it." Neytan chuckles at this.

When he comes back up, he’s met with your flushed face, cheeks burning and drowsy eyes staring up at him through long lashes. Neteyam smiles warmly at you, his tail curling behind his back in anticipation when he finally presses his lips against yours. You sigh into the kiss, parting your lips so his tongue could curl around yours.

Behind you, Neytan places a kiss to your shoulder, not as soft and tender as his brothers, as you soon feel teeth sink into your skin. You feel him nibble on your ear next, sharp canine grazing your skin but Neteyam swallows the soft whimper escaping you. A pair of hands glide over your arms, over your sides and down to your hips and you know they belong to Neytan, with the way they grope your flesh on their way down to where your loincloth was tied around your hips.

Once he had freed you from it, the oldest Sully wastes no time in nudging your legs apart with his knee. You break the kiss with Neteyam, panting for air, to glance back over your shoulder. It’s his brothers turn to catch you in a heated kiss now. Neytan is all tongue and teeth, sucking on your tongue and biting your bottom lip as he kisses you fiercely.

When cold air brings your nipples to hard peaks, you realize that your top is gone too. You can barely hear Neteyams praise when your bare tits come into his view, over the blood rushing through your head.

You don’t even know who’s doing what or where anymore, but your limbs are becoming unstable and weak like molten wax as both pair of hands explore your body. Heat is spreading through your core, slithering deep in a place where you crave them most.

You feel Neteyams lips close around a nipple and whimper against Neytans, when he playfully pulls on the little nub with his teeth. It was like a dance- once you’d break away from Neytan, his brother pulled you into another kiss, while it was Neytans turn to caress your neck and throat, his hands groping your chest.

Their low hums vibrated against your skin, surrounding you like a subtle lullaby. They were almost caging you in between their tall bodies and you squirmed a little, but didn’t mind the closeness in the slightest. Sucked into an abyss of sensations, your head swims and you‘re unable to focus on anything else, besides their lips and hands all over you. All you could see, hear and smell was them. You were swallowed between them like a trapped bird.

Your head falls back against Neytans broad chest as Neteyams hand sneaks it’s way lower and between your thighs. He cups your pussy, feeling for how wet you are and then slides his fingers between your folds with groan.

The way his thumb ghosted over your clit had your hips jerking in response but you whined as the touch didn’t relieve any of the tension that was slowly building inside you.

"Neteyam", you begged, oh, so sweetly, "Please don’t tease…"

"See?", Neteyam beamed with pride as he glanced at his brother over your shoulder, "I told you she behaves better with me."

His twin only rolled his eyes at that, chuckling, "Because she knows you wouldn’t know what to do with a brat like her, brother. That’s why she acts up with me, right? You want me to put you in your place?"

You feel heat flood your cheeks once again, tainting them in dark red and unwanted admission. You just didn’t want to give into him so easily. With Neteyam, it was always simple. But with Neytan, it was a mutual game of cat and mouse, a push and pull.

Neytans hand had found it’s way between your thighs too, and while his twin teasingly circled your clit, he wasted no time in plunging his middle finger to the last knuckle past your slippery entrance. Instead of a response, your knees buckled and you gasped sharply, moaning when he curls his finger inside of you.

"F-Fuck!"

"I asked you a question, numeyu."

Pursing your lips together into a thin line, you refused to answer him and his mean antics, but then quickly felt a second finger nudge at your entrance.

"C‘mon, answer him", Neteyam smiled down at you, his thumb simultaneously flicking over your clit more rapidly.

"Yes, sir", is all you can force out between high-pitched moans. Right on cue, Neytan groans at your response and begins to scissor you open with his slender digits, pulling more of those pretty sounds out of you.

"She’s so sweet like this", Neteyam chuckled to his brother, before he dipped his head down to place another kiss to your lips, "you’re such a good girl for me, tanhì."

His lips meet yours gently, coaxing them open, happily exploring the inside of your mouth with his tongue again. His brothers hand finds your breast, pinches your nipple between the pads of his fingers, while his others are pumping agonizingly slowly in and out of your pussy and your toes start to curl when he repeatedly hits that special spot inside of you.

It doesn’t take long for your muscles to contract around his digits, wordlessly begging for more while you hold onto Neteyam with all of your might. Feeling both of their hands between your legs, covered in your sticky arousal, groping at you, spreading you and drawing circles on your clit, has your mind spiraling. The more they play with you like this, the closer you feel, nearing the edge of your orgasm.

"Close, huh? Yeah, you’re almost there, pretty girl, that’s it", Neytan purrs into your ear and the obscene squelching sounds he coaxed out of your pussy are enough to make your eyes roll back into your head. "C’mon, paskalin. Come for us."

If it weren’t for the way you were sandwiched between the two of them, you would’ve collapsed as your orgasm finally overtook all of your senses, leaving you moaning and gasping for air. Your legs stutter together but their hands keep them spread, holding your thighs apart. Neteyam wasn’t letting up on your clit until you whimpered and sobbed into his shoulder, clawing at his forearms to stay upright.

The oldest twin is then the first to withdraw his hands from between your thighs. You watch him over your shoulder, as he sucks his slick covered fingers clean, humming at your taste. His brother is next, but before his hand comes up again, he dips a single finger into you, coating it in your arousal which causes your hips to twitch in hypersensitivity, just to then bring them to your own lips.

"Say ahh", Neteyam smiles and you do as your told, sticking your tongue out for him to smear your slick onto it. You taste the lingering tang of your own arousal, but just as you’re about to close your mouth and taste yourself properly, Neteyam objects, "Not yet. I want to taste you too." Before you know it, he closes his lips around your tongue and sucks.

Neteyam groans and with the way you’re pressed against his chest, it rumbles through you. You’re hot, so hot you feel like you might just spontaneously combust, your whole body washed in a tingling flush.

Meanwhile, Neytan moves your hair to the side so he can kiss the back of your neck.

"Get on your hands and knees, sevin or I‘ll take you right here. And I don’t care if your legs will give in", he whispers, his breath hot on your skin and you can practically feel the grin on his face without having to look at him.

Breaking the kiss, a light pressure on your shoulder prompts you to kneel and both of them offer you a hand to do so, seeing the way your legs already wobble. You’re just glad the grass is soft under your knees as you get into position, your hazy eyes watching as both twins rid themselves of their loincloths.

They’re twins indeed, you think as their cloths fall to the ground, staring up at them with wide eyes. Their tails rhythmically sway behind their backs, excited and eager and they stare you down so intensely and with so much lust in their eyes that your heart begins to race.

"What’s the matter, hm? Nervous?", Neytan grins as he circles you to stand behind your back.

"No", you breathe out, cursing the way your voice comes out trembling.

"Don’t be", Neteyam smiles warmly as he steps closer, "We‘ll take good care of you, tanhì."

You couldn’t help the way your mouth begins to salivate as you watch him stroke his hard cock right in front of your face, the mushroomy head of it already leaking pre-cum.

Heat floods your cheeks as he cups your face in his free hand and nudges the head of his cock against your plump lips, smearing his pre over them with relish.

"Say you want it", Neteyam mumbles lowly, too lost in the sight of your lips on his cock to even look you in the eyes, "Say you want to suck my cock."

"I- I want to suck your cock, Neteyam."

Your hands then reach out to touch him. He twitches in your palms, too big for you to close your hands entirely around it. The realization alone made you feel uneasy and heat pools from your core and smears between your thighs. Experimentally, you squeeze and stroke him, before you press a small kiss on top of it and he can’t help but huff out a breath, smiling at the precious sight before him.

"C‘mon, tanhì. Put it in", he sounds a little breathless by now, "Or do I have to teach you how to do this too?"

He watches you with half lidded eyes, as you let saliva pool in your mouth and then stick your tongue out and let it drip down onto his tip. It makes his dick glisten, slippery with your spit. You continue with dragging your tongue up the underside of his dick and he groans, enjoying the feeling of that wet, warm muscle against his hard length.

Those kitten licks and kisses felt good, incredible even, but they were not nearly enough, not for how hard he was. But Neteyam was a patient man.

You drag the flat of your tongue up, the tip of it flicking just beneath the head of his cock. His hips jerk at the sensation and he rolls his neck back with a groan. He tries to restrain himself– to restrain the urge to just flip you onto your stomach and fuck you senseless, make you scream his name for the whole forest to hear.

Neytan on the hand wasn’t exactly known for being very patient, not as your karyu and not right now. Behind your back, you could hear him move. You couldn’t really see him like this, but you knew he was there, settling himself behind you. With a hand on your back he urges you to arch your spine more. With his thigh, he nudges your legs further apart and makes room for him to kneel between them. His hands roam your body, kneading your breasts and stroking over your back, where he then leaves wet kisses and small bites behind, marking every inch of skin he could reach.

The sensation of hands all over you was overwhelming.

They travel lower then, to where he spreads your soft folds with his thumbs. "Still so fucking wet", Neytan chuckles, licking his lips, "no wonder you couldn’t concentrate. Filthy girl, you must’ve wanted this so badly."

With his cock in hand, he carefully nudges the tip against your tight entrance, easing into you ever so slowly. The stretch of his girth is on the borderline of being painful, dancing on a knifes edge, but it’s also devastatingly perfect. With each passing second, you can feel yourself being forced open, further than you ever thought was possible. Once every merciless inch of his cock is shoved deep inside you, you moan, already close to coming yet again. The sound was heavenly to their ears and Neytan presses his hips even tighter against yours. Like this, you could already feel the head of his cock against your cervix, which caused a small sob to escape your lips.

Your mouth hangs open as you try to let your body adjust to his size and it’s enough of an opportunity for Neteyam to slide his cock into your mouth.

At this, you clench around Neytan, hard.

He groans into your hair, his forehead dropping against your back and you whimper when he pushes forward, as if there was any more room for him inside of you. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Eywa, baby ease up a little. You’re squeezing me so t-tight", Neytan curses through gritted teeth.

"Just breathe through your nose. Focus on me, tanhì. We‘ll make it fit, don’t worry your pretty little head."

Another inch of his length glides over your tongue and further into your mouth, but you do as your told, breathing through your nose in short pants of air. Your eyes already begin to water, but you still manage to glance up at Neteyam who was staring right back down at you, biting his bottom lip in restrain.

"M‘gonna come", you mumble barely intelligible with his dick halfway in your mouth.

"She’s coming just from putting it in", Neytan laughs staggered, "Fuck, I think I’ll have to keep you, paskalin."

You fall apart right as he pulls himself out all the way and then snaps his hips forward, pushing back inside you in one fluid thrust. The way his waist collides with your bottom emerges a loud and obscene smack and you whimper. With his hands, Neteyam holds your head up, gives you enough leverage so you don’t fall face first against the ground as his twin begins to set his pace. You barely have time to come down from your second high, when Neytan begins to fuck you in deep, long strokes.

The movement pushes you forward and makes you swallow more of Neteyam, who groans in response. Tongue teasing the salty slit, his mouth falls open and his hands move to fist your hair into a messy ponytail. You hollow your cheeks as best as you can, sucking and slurping on his length.

To the rhythm of Neytans thrusts, you bob your head up and down, tongue glued to the hard length of Neteyam. He’s so far from being fully buried inside your mouth, his size was making it incredibly difficult, but he could feel you push yourself to your limit. You were making these wet noises that went straight to his dick and with your hand, you stroked every inch your mouth couldn’t reach.

Neteyams hips were already twitching with the effort to not hold your head still and just fuck your throat. Thankfully, a few especially hard thrusts of Neytan had you take him even further inside, until you were gagging and moaning around him.

"There you go, that’s it, tanhì", he praised you from above, nodding his head to encourage you, "You look so pretty like that, making all these cute noises for us. You really are my best numeyu, you know that right? Fuuck, yes. My favorite girl, doing so good for me."

You look up at him, the tears that had been picking at the corner of your eyes finally tickle down your cheeks as he hit the back of your throat. You manage to hum around his length, in place of a verbal response.

Tilting his head as if he's observing a rare specimen, the other twins attention was fixed entirely on the way your soft, round cheeks jiggled with every harsh thrust of his. Angling his hips, he expertly brushed his cock against your g-spot now, coaxing moan after moan from your lips.

"You feel so fucking good", he groans, "We should’ve done this sooner, should’ve done this every single time you lost focus."

Slowly, Neteyam pulls out of your mouth just as your gagging grows a little louder, admiring the strings of glistening saliva connecting his tip to your swollen lips. Immediately, you gasp for air, panting and moaning more freely, while your hand keeps stroking over his length.

"Ney-tan", you whimper his name, words cut off by his harsh thrusts, "Y-You’re fuck-ing me so g-good, oh my e-eywa!"

"Because that’s what you deserve, tanhì. I told you we‘ll take good care of you", Neteyam coos from above and you feel the way his cock throbs in your palms, impatient to feel your lips wrap around it again.

"I think I‘ll never be able to continue training you, without having my cock buried inside your tight little pussy", Neytan chuckles, "so better get used to it."

The promising words send your heart a flutter and you could feel another orgasm nearing, right as one of his hands wedged itself between your thighs to fondle at your clit.

"Please, please, I’m so clo—", you whine, barely able to finish your pleading before Neteyams head dips down to catch your lips in another kiss. "I want to come with you", he mumbles against your lips, his voice strained with lust and desperation. Nodding, you untangle your tongue from his and take his cock back into your mouth.

Neytans thrusts have turned into a more rapid pace than before. He’s chasing his own orgasm with every fibre in his being, his hips snapping against yours so hard that it felt like you were being spanked. And maybe that’s exactly what he was aiming for. His middle and index finger work furiously over your sensitive clit, knowing exactly where and how to circle that small bundle of nerves to get you to come. And by the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, he knew you were about to.

Your tail curls and sways around his face more fiercely the harder he fucks you. Deciding to bring it to good use, his other hand leaves your hip to wrap itself around your tail. Using the new leverage, he tugs harshly, pulling you back against him and you yelp, the sound muffled around Neteyams cock.

Steadying yourself on said twins thigh, your nails dig into his skin as a rush of pleasure surges through you the way waves crash on the shore when you feel your tail being pulled and that’s all it takes for both of you to cum, the vibrations of your moans around Neteyams cock sending him clean over the edge.

"S-Swallow", is all he groans as you feel thick spurts of cum land directly on your tongue. Your throat constricts around him, cock throbbing and twitching wildly as the salty taste spreads over your tastebuds. "Yes, fuuck, that’s it. Good girl, swallow it all."

When he finally pulls himself out, his cock leaves you with a wet pop. Crouching down to be eye level with you, Neteyam keeps holding your head in his tender hands, preventing you from getting fucked face first into the dirty ground. Your expression is one of pure bliss, with your eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure as you rode out your peak.

"You did so well, tanhì", he praises, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. The complete opposite of his twins actions behind you.

"Teyam, f-fuck, s-so good", you whimper, "s'too much. I- I can’t!"

"Hmh, i bet you feel incredible like this. I can’t wait for my turn.", he chuckles, "Just focus, I know you can take it. I‘m right here, pretty."

At his words, you clench around Neytans cock, pulling him in and holding him right there until he could merely pull out of you for more than a few inches. His thrusts become short and deep and just as desperate as his twins before him.

Until all he feels is heat, that incredibly tight heat that squeezes and sucks him in, with the most obscene sounds he’s ever heard– and he’s done for.

"S-Shit, you’re so tight! Gonna make me cum", Neytan groans, his body locking up, every muscle becoming rock hard, and then a shudder starts from the base of his spine, flowering outward through his entire body.

"Take it– oh fuck. Take it like you’re fucking made for it!"

You felt him come harder than you expected him to, as he gave a couple of thrusts more, hips suddenly pausing, and then you felt it flowing— hot shots of cum pumped into you, filling you up nice and warm as he lost himself inside you with a deep groan.

With a bruising grip on your hips, he holds you there and fills you up, until it leaks around his cock and bubbles onto the soft grass below your knees.

You nearly sob when Neytan pulls out, leaving you feeling exposed and empty, but it’s over quickly, when Neteyam scoops you into his warm embrace. A pleasant ache begins to settle over you as you come down from your high, feeling incoherent to form any other thoughts or words you just hum into the space of his shoulder.

A low chuckle jostles you a little further into his arms and you allow your eyes so fall closed. However, a not so gently pull to your tail snaps your eyes right back open and you glare over your shoulder to find the source of your discomfort.

"So, little numeyu", Neytan grins right back at you, as he ties his loincloth around his hips with ease. "Think you can focus better now? Let’s hope so, because you still have to hunt down that Yerik from earlier."

With furrowed brows, you turn your head to look at Neteyam. The other twin was smiling down at you, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he chuckles, "You didn’t think todays lesson would be over so easily, did you? Oh, tanhì. We’re not done with you yet."

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thewulf · 1 year

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That's a Kill || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Y/N Kazansky. The Admiral's daughter. You always had to prove yourself to the boys. The good old boys. You never thought much of any of them, knowing you were better than them. That was until you were called back to Top Gun. You meet Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin who drives you nuts, the first day. You start to fall for the man in front of you as he does the same.

A/N: You all really are the sweetest. This one is a bit longer. Hope you enjoy! I Appreciate the feedback! All fluff. We're also pretending Ice is completely okay - no cancer :)

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 8,900+

Part 2 | Part 3

You weren’t sure you wanted to be a pilot when you were a kid. Over the years you learned to love flying, especially with your dad. He had always encouraged flying but never forced you into anything you didn’t want to do. Your brother on the other hand had decided he wanted to be a pilot just like his daddy. He became a damn good one at that. But you, you were exceptional. Once you decided you did want to become a pilot you weren’t going to stop until you were the best. You kept true to your word; you were one of the best. You graduated first in your class at Top Gun, earning the coveted picture on the wall. It wasn’t without challenge though. People made many assumptions about you because of your dad that you had to overcome. Once you did, you were a force to be reckoned with.

You were so different than your dad, oh so different. Your dad, the legendary “Iceman”, Tom Kazansky, was a cocky son of a bitch (his terms, not yours). He always got whatever he wanted. He was cool, calm, and collected Tom. He was ice cold. He was Iceman. It worked for him.

But you, you decided from an early age that you caught more flies with honey than you did vinegar. You quite literally killed them with kindness. It became your thing. You only seemed to grow kinder over time, never letting anybody walk all over you though. It worked for you.

You shamelessly tried to hide your lineage, but it just didn’t work with your brother’s big mouth and your rather recognizable last name. Kazansky wasn’t easy to hide with your dad being an Admiral and all.

The word spread quickly of the Admiral’s daughter joining the ranks of Top Gun. You kept your head low and worked hard. You were kind to everybody in your class confusing your instructors who had to deal with your brother, and your dad, not that long ago. You didn’t have the ego nor the cockiness your lovely father and brother had. You were laid back, kind, but so sure of yourself.

You were a quiet one too. You never spoke out of turn only when you were addressed. Just a quiet observer in a world of crass pilots who thought they were the best. You knew you had a leg up on all the boys in your class, you were trained by your dad and Maverick from a very early age. You were yet to beat either of them, but you swore your day was coming. Each time you went up in the air you were determined to fly even better than the last, they both noticed. They knew you were special, Y/N Kazansky.

When you were in the air you were just as cool, calm, and collected as your dad. You knew you were better than your brother you would just never dare to say it out loud. You flew just like your dad did. Ice cold. You had that something special that everybody chased after. People didn’t know how to deal with you, your personality didn’t match up with the girl who flew. It made you smile, they always walked on eggshells around you. You knew you held the power you just never took advantage of it.

Your personality is what got you the callsign Lava. Everybody claimed you were the exact opposite of your father. You wanted to disagree with them, you and your dad were more alike than anybody knew. But you couldn’t fault them, the way the two of you presented yourselves was completely different. You were kind, you smiled at people, and you helped others. You had to laugh at the subtle shade that was being thrown your fathers way. You knew how cold he could be, but you also knew how loving of a guy he really was. You loved the entire situation, so you embraced your callsign. What was the opposite of Ice? Fire. But Fire didn’t sound as cool as Lava, per the boys, so Lava it was.

The instructors couldn’t quite grasp who you were. You were a sweetheart on the ground but a menace in the air. You didn’t even sound like yourself when you were giving orders and having the time of your life in the sky. You proved them wrong time and time again in the air. They thought you only got into Top Gun because of Ice; boy were they wrong. You just had that little something extra that other pilots didn’t seem to have. You couldn’t put your finger on it, nobody could figure it out either. That was years ago now, you had graduated Top Gun first in your class two years prior.

You went on a few decent missions that brought you some sense of accomplishment. You were sure your father had something to do with all the lame assignments you had been given over the last few years. You were the best of the best and you were going on missions that any pilot could go on. You had blowout arguments with your dad about it. He claimed he never did anything, you just had to believe him even though it didn’t make sense to you.

That was until you were called back to Top Gun. You were called back just like the rest of them. You were a few years younger than the majority of group that was invited. You weren’t familiar with anybody you were briefed on. You’d certainly heard of them though; they were all very well known within the Naval Aviator ranks. The best part about being a Kazansky was getting to know who you were going on missions with.

“No Will?” You asked your dad. Will was your older brother, three years older. He had gone to Top Gun with a few of the people on this list of twelve. You recognized Hangman from his class. Will always complained about him telling you the stories of how he earned his callsign Hangman. Will always referred to him as Bagman, you made of note of that one in your head. You grinned seeing him on the list knowing he’d be a tough one to deal with.

Your dad shook his head, “No, he isn’t ready yet.”

You nodded your head eyeing your dad curiously, “Must be serious then?”

“More than you know Y/N. Please, be careful.”

You hid a smile from your face seeing his apprehension. You knew it had to be one hell of a mission, “Yes sir.” Finally, your chance at something big.

You had gotten the invitation just like the rest, to meet everybody at the Hard Deck the night prior to your reporting day. You really didn’t want to go but you had a feeling that everybody else was going to be there. You were mortified when it said to show up in uniform. You considered showing up in your civ gear but decided it would be worse if you were the only one to show up in regular clothes.

You ended up going in your uniform trying to play it cool as you entered the bar. You quickly spotted the other aviators before slyly made your way over to them, all of them in uniform. You mentally thanked yourself for wearing it.

You sat down next to the most unassuming looking person there who happened to be shoveling popcorn into his face, “Hi.” You greeted him as you took a seat.

“Hi!” He smiled setting the popcorn down, “I’m Bob.” He stuck his hand out to you. He was a little dorky, but you just knew you were going to love him.

You nodded taking his hand gently in yours, “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you Bob, what’s your callsign?”

He laughed while nodding his head, seemingly like he just went through this, “Bob.”

“I like it!” You giggled.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He smiled genuinely seeming to not get that reaction all too often, “And yours?”

“Lava. Lav for short if you wish.” You smiled swinging your legs back and forth on the high-top chair.

“Noted.” He smiled at you while fixing his glasses, “How’d you get that name?”

You sighed leaning back into your seat, “My dad. Kinda sucks when your own callsign comes from somebody’s else.” You paused for a second before continuing, “My dad is Iceman.” You nearly whispered the last part. Everybody knew about Iceman. Iceman this or Iceman that. He was a legend among Top Gun piloting legends.

“You’re Admiral Kazansky’s daughter?”

You nodded looking your head down, “I swear I’m a good pilot Bob. I’m not just here because of the name.”

“I didn’t mean that!” Bob spoke frantically, “Just surprised is all, your kind of well-known but nobody really knows you. I’m surprised you’re here.”

You bit your lip in spite, “I believe my dear old dad had something to do with that. I’ve always flown the most basic missions. None of them worth a damn. Who knows how I even made it here?” You said grumbling in frustration.

Bob shrugged, “Who cares? You’re here.”

You nodded your head, “You’re right Bob, I am here.”

“And who do we have here?” A new voice interrupted the two of you. You slowly turned your head seeing your brothers favorite pilot leaning against the chair next to you with a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. You had to admit he looked good. Better than the pictures ever showed. Your damn brother would never mention how handsome he was to you either, you weren’t surprised. Will had made him out to be some horrific monster. Not the tall, tan, muscular pilot standing before you.

“Y/N.” You gave him your sweetest smile knowing you’d have to kick up the charm to get through to him. You didn’t necessarily want to beat Hangman, you simply wanted to get into his head. You wanted to know he could be beat if you wanted to. You weren’t a hundred percent sure you were better than Hangman in the air you just had a sneaking suspicion you were.

His eyes flicked down to the last name embroidered on your chest. Kazansky big and bold for everybody to see. You heard him chuckle before looking up to you, “The other Kazansky. Thought you were some mythical creature. Nice to know you actually exist.”

You smirked seeing just how this man got under Will’s skin so bad, “Nice to meet you Bagman.”

He snorted setting his beer down ready for the conversation to begin, “Seems like your brothers got a big mouth. Where is he?”

“I don’t disagree.” You giggled, making sure to turn that charm up even harder than before, “Dad said he’s not ready.” Shrugging you leaned back into your seat wishing you had a beer to distract yourself with.

“That’s cold Kazansky.” He eyed you up and down taking you in. He didn’t know how much trouble he really was in before he initiated the conversation between the two of you. He was starting to get a sense of just how fucked he knew he was once you started throwing words right back at him with the sweetest look on your face. He knew right then and there you were going to be a problem for him, a thorn in his side. He got a rush just thinking about it knowing he had to continue the conversation on for as long as you would let him.

“Would you say, ice cold?” You tapped the table.

You heard Bob let out laugh from behind you, almost forgetting he was sitting there. Hangman shook his head leaning just a touch closer to you, seemingly being drawn in by you, “My real name’s Jake. Jake Seresin.” He stuck his hand out to you waiting for your response to his move.

“Will did not like you Mr. Seresin.” You took his hand gently in yours, just as you did Bob’s. Not reacting to his firm grip instead cocking your head to the side looking at him curiously. You felt him release your grip immediately. You weren’t sure why but that move made every man react the same way, almost embarrassed to be showing off to you.

He took a second to regain his composure, thoroughly enamored with the game he knew he had just begun with you. “I hope you don’t take anything he said to heart darling.”

Smooth. So smooth. You were a sucker for endearing names. He didn’t know that, and you couldn’t let that one slip. Your turn to regain composure. You just hoped your delicately crafted façade hadn’t slipped already, “Your telling me not to trust my own brother? Wow. That’s cold Seresin.”

“You don’t think family can be a bit dramatic sometimes?” The world around you two had seemed to slip away. You forgot Bob behind you. Hangman forgetting the game of pool he was playing with another guy, looked like Payback to you.

“A bit. But I don’t think my dad is.” You played the dad card not really caring that you did. Wanting to keep him on this toes.

You saw him visibly gulp, “Now, I know your joking.” He almost sounded, desperate? You knew you had to draw it back a little bit. Truth be told your dad only had good things to say about Hangman, some thing he needed to work on in the air but a damn good pilot otherwise.

You shrugged hopping up from your seat, “I’m getting a beer. Bob, you need one?” You turned back to the silent observer who was picking up on something between the two of you.

“I’m good.” He smiled back to you.

You waved at him before turning back to Jake, “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Guess you’ll have to find out Bagman.” You winked at him before making your way to the bar.

The rest of your night consisted of strategically staying away from Hangman. You didn’t want to get caught up with his antics just yet. You felt what Bob had seen earlier. The bantering between the two of you came way to easy. It didn’t take you long to warm up to a person, but you just felt connected to Jake instantly. You decided when you walked away from him earlier that you would have to avoid him at all costs. You didn’t really think the plan would work but it would certainly delay the inevitable. You knew the two of you would either become the best of friends or hate each other bitterly. You didn’t want the latter, so you decided to avoid it.

Any other night and you would have likely gone home with Harvard. You were instantly charmed by the Clark Kent looking man. You knew it wasn’t the brightest idea to go home with him once you realized you kept looking around for Hangman to see if he was paying attention to you or not. You accidentally caught his eye a few times instantly looking away. He smirked know he had gotten into your head. Physically, you were with Harvard but mentally, Hangman had caught your attention. So, he backed off, he saw what you were doing. He wasn’t dumb. He was thrilled when he saw Harvard leave without you. You moved back to Phoenix, still avoiding Hangman.

You got to know the entire Dagger squad the rest of the night. You were one of three women on the team of twelve, Phoenix and Halo rounding out the crew. You knew you would grow close to Rooster, hearing everything about him from Maverick, he was the life of the party. The squad welcomed you with open arms. You still avoided Hangman, knowing how screwed you were. But he knew, he knew he won that night.

The next morning you were pleasantly surprised to learn that Maverick was your instructor, a detail your father had refused to give you. You sensed the tension immediately between Rooster and Mav. You quickly remembered just how awful things were between the pair You didn’t know Rooster personally, until you met him last night, but you felt like you knew him from the stories you were told. You weren’t sure why you had never met him before last night. He was older than you are sure, but it still didn’t add up. Mav always said Carole had kept him to keep him from the Navy, one of the many failed attempts.

You were snapped back into reality when you heard the two quietly arguing with one another before the class was dismissed. You sat patiently waiting on Mav to pack up and the rest of the class to leave.

“Good class Mav. Can’t wait to start.” You grinned getting up from you seat.

“Kazansky. Good to see you kid.” He walked over wrapping you into a tight hug.

“Dad didn’t spill. Can’t believe your teaching us!” You squeezed him tightly.

He ruffled your hair after releasing you, “Didn’t know until a few days ago.”

“Oh Yeah!” You laughed, “You blew up the Darkstar! Dad told me all about it.”

“Course he did.” He chuckled guiding you out of the classroom. The next six hours consisted of field air training. You couldn’t be more pumped to have your hand at Mav again.

“Heard you went past Mach 10 though. That’s certifiable Mav.” You paused as you got to the front of the women’s locker room.

He nodded stopping with you, “Pushed her a bit too far. We’ll get her next time.”

You nodded along with him, “Good luck up there, old man.”

He feigned hurt by placing his hand on his heart, “You wound me Kazansky, I still don’t recall you ever getting me though.”

“Eat it.” You laughed walking into the locker room.

You changed into your flight suit quickly. Phoenix and Halo were already finishing up, they waited on you while you changed keeping you company. All twelve of you gathered in the training room waiting on direction from Maverick.

“Payback, Fanboy, and Rooster. Your up first.” Mav spoke in the doorway entry exiting quickly to his plane. The nine of you tuned the radio into the channel listening into the chatter between all the aviators.

You simply smiled listening into the panic once Mav came on Radar between all the pilots. He had done that shit to you so many times before. So Maverick. You giggled when Payback and Fanboy nearly begged for 200 pushups, no idea what they were in for. Maverick broke the rules. He didn’t give a shit about the Navy’s policies. Maverick did what Maverick wanted to do. He always had your dad to pardon him, he was truly fearless.

You were up next once all three were eliminated. You were with Hangman. You audibly laughed once Maverick gave you your assignment. You turned to him radiantly, “Let’s beat him.”

He snickered, “Yes ma’am.” Whew, you nearly melted. You had to turn away quickly walking out of the training room and to your plane so you wouldn’t get distracted. You and Hangman were up in the air five minutes later in two separate planes, of course.

“Let’s see what you can do sweetheart.” He chuckled before breaking left away from you.

You audibly sighed forgetting you were on radio for everybody to hear, “That’s why they fucking call you Bagman.” You knew you were on your own, not that you minded. You were used to this game with Maverick. You heard Maverick audibly laugh, the game was on.

You had avoided him and tried to help Hangman, but Maverick was just too good. He knocked Hangman out first. Your turn. You lasted longer than you thought you would, pulling out all the stops and maneuvers you had been taught throughout all the years. You faltered when a flock of birds changed the plans in your head at the last minute breaking you right instead of left which left you as a sitting duck. You mentally cursed yourself when you hopped out of your jet joining Hangman in your 200 pushups.

“Not bad Kazansky.” Maverick patted you on the shoulder.

You shook your head, “That was not good Mav, and you know it. I should have seen those damn birds sooner.” You wanted to pout but replaced your frown with a small smile.

“You’re too hard on yourself kid. That’s the best I’ve seen you fly. Don’t sweat it. Plus, I need your head in the game. These next few weeks aren’t going to be for the faint of heart.”

You nodded, “Got it, Captain.” You smiled, “Now don’t mind me, I have a punishment I must fulfil.”

“Lieutenant.” He nodded before walking back to the training center. Grabbing the next pair of victims.

You dropped down and began your pushups. Jake was already past 150. You grumbled internally knowing he would be watching you once he finished. You loved having his eyes on you but him being this close was rather intimidating.

“Thanks for the help up there.” He spoke once he finished his 200.

You sighed knowing you were just going to have to have a conversation with him because you couldn’t move, “If you would have listened to me, you wouldn’t have been shot down.” You said as sweetly as you could muster. Pushups were never really your thing. You could do them. They just weren’t the prettiest nor the fastest.

“I disagreed.” He retorted.

“Thus, why you were shot down.” You said quickly, knowing how easy it was to get him upset. You just considered it payback.

He sat there quietly watching you. He didn’t really blame you. He blatantly didn’t listen to you on purpose. Not wanting to believe you were as good as he thought you were. Turns out you were better. He thought you might even be better than him. Especially watching you work with Maverick. He was in awe of your ability to control the aircraft. You were effortless in the air.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You spoke up breaking him from his trance.

He bit his lip sending shivers down your spine. Not good. Not a good reaction you thought, “I would if I could Darling, don’t seem to have my phone on me though.”

Smooth, he always seemed to have something to say. When he didn’t, he sat down and shut up to figure out how to get himself out of the situation. He knew you’d beat him though and that excited him beyond belief. He was yet to be matched and he knew that Y/N Kazansky would be the first to change that.

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Pig.”

He shrugged, “You suggested it Lava.”

You nearly recoiled hearing your callsign off his tongue. You truly didn’t dislike your callsign it just wasn’t frequently used for you. You were often called Baby Ice or Kazansky. You didn’t want to admit how good it sounded though. How much you liked hearing any sort of your identification coming from his lips. You needed to get ahold of yourself and quick.

You sighed getting up from the ground shaking your arms out, “Just try and keep up next time Seresin.” You smiled to him before walking away.

He walked up behind you almost making you jump. You weren’t expecting that. Kind of bold you thought, “Need any help stretching those arms out darling?”

You almost gasped at his forwardness. You really didn’t know how to handle this man. You could’ve sworn that my growing up around your dad and Mav you would’ve been prepared for any scenario. You were wrong about that. Jake Seresin was figuring you out quicker than anybody had in your entire life, perhaps he’s the only one that would be able to. That truly freaked you out. You had a finely crafted exterior that nobody had been able to penetrate. You were worried that was going to change and soon.

You shook your head, “Don’t even think about it Hangman.” You laughed smiling back to him. He really was a handsome man. Blond hair and green eyes. You were a sucker for a man with green eyes. You knew once he figured that out, you’d be a goner.

He smiled at your resistance. His breath got caught in his throat as you whipped around and greeted him with that smile. He was a sucker for a beautiful smile and man oh man did you have a million-dollar smile. He returned to his thoughts quickly as you turned back away from him, “Just offering sweetheart.” He followed you back to the training room where you were cheered for and greeted by the other pilots.

You weren’t sure what Mav was up to when he told the class to meet at the Hard Deck at 5 PM that night and to wear your ‘beach workout gear’. You were sure you were incredibly nervous as to what beach workout gear meant to the guys, specifically Mr. Jake Seresin.

You weren’t given much time to go home and change, Mav letting you go at 4 PM, giving you just an hour to get ready. You raced back to your temporary home looking for just the right clothes. You mentally cursed yourself for putting so much time and thought into what you were going to wear to this sunset workout, specifically for Jake. You had never done this sort of thing for any guy you’ve come across in the Navy yet somehow Jake freaking Seresin was beginning to wrap you up in his tangled web.

You groaned hitting your head softly against the wall. You knew your dad would be getting a kick out of this one. Your dad never thought anybody was ever going to crack your hard exterior, much less a boy from Top Gun. You were always so much more confident than anybody you had come across. Your dad would always comment on it, sure that you would rarely get challenged. But here came Jake Seresin to mess up all your plans and assurances.

Maverick was yet to catch onto anything between the two of you. You had gone up with Hangman a few more times, each time a little better than the last. All Mav noticed was the bickering between the two, seemingly no different than any other flight with Hangman. He seemed to bring out the fighter in everybody he talked to. But the bickering was different, for Jake it was. You were so much quicker and wittier than anybody he had come across. You seemed to have a response ready to go at the tip of your tongue no matter what he said. You only got tripped up when he mentioned not very work appropriate actions. Your face would go a light shade of pink when he alluded to indecent things in such a casual manor. He was ready to use that against you, simply bidding his time.

What Jake did notice was how damn good of a pilot you were though. He found that the two of you were easily matched. You were quicker and seemingly more agile in the air. He was better at locking onto targets than you were though, he locked onto Mav a few times but failed to hit him so far. Mav was as cocky as ever, so much fun to watch as he ripped through the air. Always proudly shouting his favorite phrase as he show the twelve of you down over and over, “That’s a kill.” You really couldn’t wait to use it against him one of these days.

After letting yourself think way to hard for a few moments you snapped back to the present. You decided on a simple set of a black sports bra and spandex. You through on a loose tank top fully intending to take it off if it got to hot in the San Diego sun.

You rushed down to the Hard Deck upset at yourself for leaving with such little time to spare. You hated being late, something your dad instilled in you at a very young age. That topped with your mom making you late to everything she took you to cause that sense of dread every time you were coming close to being late. Luckily, you got there with a few minutes to spare rushing over to Phoenix and Halo’s side.

Jake grinned when he saw you arrive a little frantically. He had picked up on your punctuality. You were always one of the first aviators to arrive in the classroom and in the field. He saw a glimpse of panic when you arrived far to close to Mavericks call time. He smiled knowing he had noticed another small thing about you. He never planned to use it against you only to use it for his advantage. He knew you were always early to things giving him a chance to talk to you alone, away from the other pilots.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Maverick called everybody to attention. He explained the rules of his made-up game of Dogfight Football. You were an avid football watcher knowing the game like the back of your hand. You weren’t allowed to grow up in house with Iceman and not know every rule like a ref would. What Maverick was explaining though confused even you. Nonetheless you split into two teams. Phoenix and Rooster on your team. Hangman, Payback and Cayote on the other. Halo was unfortunately snatched up by the opposite side, she lined up against Phoenix. Leaving you with Hangman. You wanted to complain about how unfair a matchup it was but could never give Hangman that simple satisfaction, so you shut your mouth.

“This ought to be easy.” He winked at you as he lined up for the first time against you.

You squatted down ever so slightly. You were fast but you weren’t Jake Seresin fast. You needed to take any advantage you have against him. Rooster also had you back against him in case he got by. Not that you were going to let it happen, “Do you ever just keep your mouth shut Bagman?”

“Now you know there’s no fun in that Lav.” That nickname was new from him. You had heard it time and time again from your various classmates and naval aviators throughout the years. But it was new coming from him. You liked the way it sounded more than you wanted to admit.

You hummed admitting he was partially right, “Not everything has to be a game, Jake.” You admitted sincerely, not sure where you wanted the conversation to go.

“Sure, it doesn’t.” He admitted, “But again, no fun in not making everything a game darling.”

He caught the small sigh that escaped your lips, “That sounds exhausting.” You spoke looking down to the ground trying to listen for both Jake and if the balls were being snapped.

He wanted to answer you honestly, it was exhausting for him. But he didn’t know how to turn that side of him off. So, he just let it happen. He knew it was something he needed to work on he just wasn’t so sure he was ready to admit that just yet.

The two of you worked well against one another, to your utter astonishment. You were both able to stop the other often, occasionally letting a good catch or run slip through. The game was utter chaos, yet you and Jake were able to stay in the little bubble the two of you seemed to be in. You didn’t forget the world around you, you both just ignored it and focused on the other.

You about lost it twenty or so minutes in when Jake tore his shirt off and threw it over to the sideline where Penny was sitting. You bit the inside of your mouth to stop the face you were itching to make. You kept your eyes on his not daring to look down at his toned body. You knew you were toast if you looked down, so you opted to look ahead.

You heard Jake laughing before you saw it, “What’s the matter Kazansky? Never seen a shirtless body?” He spoke a little too loudly earning a chuckle from a few other pilots. Embarrassing. You were thankful your cheeks were already rosy from the workout hiding the stupid blush you know adorned your face presently. He really knew what to say to tick the right buttons didn’t he?

“Shut up, Jake.” Was all you could think of quickly before the balls were snapped again giving you a second to regroup.

“That all you’ve got Kazansky?” He egged you on once he blocked the pass that came your way. He was in your head and he knew it. You knew it.

You nodded, truly at a loss for words, “Yeah, you got me.” You admitted, maybe sounding a little too upset in the admission.

You noticed Jake’s features soften a bit. He was itching to reach out to you, to ask you what was wrong. You seemed more than fine a few moments ago. He knew a few silly comments wouldn’t throw you off your game that bad, but they seemed to this afternoon. He decided to back off a bit not wanting to push you too far. He knew you could handle a lot, but he didn’t know your limits. He didn’t want to push you over the edge.

You ran over to the side ignoring Jake’s silent protests. You spotted Yale sitting there taking his break, “Yale! Can you cover me? I need to talk to Mav.” You smiled as sweetly as you could to him.

“Sure Lav.” He laughed taking your spot across from Hangman. You saw Jake watching you frowning when Yale stepped in front of him. You watched him out of your peripherals as you ran over to Mav who was sitting in the distance letting the teamwork out the game on their own. Jake didn’t take his eyes off you until the balls were snapped bringing him back to the present.

“Mav!” You gasped when you finally reached him, the sand decided to humble you a bit leaving you out of breath.

He slid his aviators off raising his brows curiously, “Everything alright, Y/N?”

You took a second to catch your breath, “I need you to have me switch teams.” You clapped your hands expecting him to oblige beginning to walk back to the game.

“No.”

“Great!” You stopped abruptly before turning a little startled by his answer, “Why not?”

“I made the teams purposefully Y/N. I’m not just moving you over. You’ve got to learn to work with what you got.” He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you inevitable rebuttal.

“It’s not that I don’t like my team Mav. They’re all great.” You stopped short not wanting to admit to your almost Uncle why you really wanted to switch teams.

“Then what is it Kazansky?” A small smirk was beginning to underline his features. Did he know? He had to of known. Or else he wouldn’t be doing this to you right now. You paused and thought this over with yourself. On one hand it was just Mav, maybe he knew the right way out of the little predicament you were in. On the other, it was Mav and he’d immediately be calling your dad up. You loved your dad but there were just some things he didn’t need to know while you tried to figure it out.

“I can’t play opposite of Jake.” You admitted softly.

Mav laughed, “I know he’s annoying Y/N. There’s a reason why I put him and you against each other.”

“It’s not that!” You groaned turning away from him. You wicked the sweat off your face with your damp tank top, knowing it wouldn’t be on your body much longer either.

“Then what is it, can’t help if I don’t know Baby Ice.” He full on smirked using your childhood nickname.

You couldn’t stop the eyeroll that already begun when you heard the name baby coming from him, he just loved to get under your skin too, “He’s too distracting Mav.” You gave him a wide-eyed look hoping he’d pick up what you were putting down.

He in fact did not pick up what you were putting down, “Too distracting?”

“Dammit Mav! You’re really going to make me say it.” You sat down next to him on the sand brushing the stray hairs away from your face, “I can’t focus when he has his shirt off. I forgot we were playing a stupid game there for a second.”

Mav’s face finally came to the realization of what you were telling him. His mouth formed a small o as he processed the information, “Jake really?” He laughed waiting for you to join in. When you failed to join him, he realized you were being serious.

“Mav that’s not funny.” You grumbled looking down finding the sand super interesting.

“I thought you detested him.” Mav admitted finally processing what his almost niece was telling him.

“I did! On the first day.” You threw your head back looking to the blue sky that was slowly beginning to turn orange. Cursing the timing of everything. You finally got a huge mission, and a stupid southern boy was going to distract you from it? You weren’t into boys the way your friends were growing up. You were a tomboy through and through and saw most of them as brothers, not lovers. This didn’t end when you graduated high school, college and even all the way through Top Gun. Nobody interested you. Sure, you had a few suitors and you dated sporadically but you never had a tried-and-true boyfriend. Your brother teased you until his face was blue about it sometimes. He had a few long-time girlfriends but none of them ever seemed to work out in the end, your only weapon against him. But that weapon was shattered when his girlfriend of three years accepted his marriage proposal. Not that you minded, you loved his fiancée Marissa and really couldn’t wait for her to marry into the family.

Marissa never gave you a hard time about it. She understood it made sense for you. You had something to prove in your Naval career that would likely get thrown off course with a serious boyfriend. You couldn’t get distracted, your career depended on it. That mindset worked. You were always the young one. You went to the Naval Academy at 17 and graduated by 21. You were invited to Top Gun at 25, the youngest in your class who turned out to be the best in the class, cruising by all the men. You knew you had a lot to prove being the daughter of Admiral Kazansky. It irritated you though that you had to work tirelessly for it while Will seemed to just have it. And now here you were, the youngest at 28. You had really hoped it was all worth it.

Maverick laughing pulled you back out of your mind and into reality, “Does Y/N Kazansky, my own Baby Ice, have a crush?”

If looks could kill Mav knew he’d be dead. He’s not sure he has ever seen such a look on your face before, “Mav keep it down.” You sighed not denying him.

“You didn’t answer my question Y/N.” He sounded a bit more serious this time. He had certainly not picked up on your feelings towards Hangman. He really thought you detested him. You body language made it seem like you really hated the guy, always standing away from him if you could. You snapped at him quite a bit, not ever losing your cool but not acting like that towards anybody else.

You nodded silently, “I do. But you can’t tell dad.”

“You’re taking the fun out of it for me Kazansky.” He sighed leaning back into his chair. He was happy for you although still confused. You really didn’t show any signs of it, maybe he was that oblivious though.

“Mavvvvv.” You sighed just like him dragging his name out like a toddler would.

“Fine. You have my word. I won’t call up Ice. But you’ve got to figure it out for me. I cannot afford to have you distracted kid. Either say something and own up to it or forget about it, alright?”

You gulped and nodded, “Okay. But you’ve got to give me a little time.”

“Sure. But this really is life or death Y/N. I need you here. All of you. 100% of that big ass Kazansky brain that you have. Do you hear me?”

You shook your head up and down hearing him. It frightened you a little bit. You understood how hard this mission was going to be, yet you had the confidence you could do it. You had yet to master the course but you, Phoenix and Bob were the closest group to completing the task yet. Only off by thirty seconds, you knew those thirty seconds were life or death though. Seeing Maverick this serious though threw the gravity of the entire situation right in front of you. A knot formed in your stomach finally understanding this was it, this was a true test of skill. You were picked because you were the best of the best. Maverick needed that Y/N, he was going to get that Y/N.

“I hear you Maverick.” You stood up, ready to rejoin the group.

“Good. And no, you still can’t switch teams.”

“Mav!” You eyed him angrily before returning to the game. Mentally preparing yourself for what Hangman was going to tease you with next.

You knew you couldn’t ignore it anymore when the Dagger Squad met for drinks at the bar and your eyes couldn’t seem to be taken away from the blond man. You now knew you didn’t have a type before you made it to this camp. But now you did. Jake Seresin was your type, just your type. You were entering week three of training, things have kicked up by about a hundred notches. Mav constantly reminding the team that it was life or death, day in and day out. He had to prove to the team it could be done. Boy, did he show off. Doing the whole course in under 2 minutes and 15 seconds.

You learned later that day that he was selected Team Captain. You saw how disappointed Jake was when it was announced. Mav decided to take his time selecting teams. The whole squad was in an all-out Dogfighting war during training, for the next few days at least. You were tired yet you refused to show it, having to prove yourself once again. You could see how exhausted the whole squad was, tonight was needed. Mav gave you the weekend to recover before one last session on Monday where he would announce teams. You were nervous. You had flown the course with a wizzo and without. Proving your capability with both. You desperately wanted to be picked. You were still nervous about the whole situation though, who wouldn’t be? One mistake and you could be dead. No pressure.

Jake noticed your eyes on him. He couldn’t help the smile that slowly spread across his face. He might have managed to crack you, just a bit. He played it cool though. Wanting you to make the first move. He wanted to see if you crack or not. He did want you. He had never been so matched before. He was also sure he would never meet somebody who could put him in his place quite like you did. You beat him more often than not in the air. He was amazed by your flying. Only Mav was able to beat you and even then, you had come close a few times only to be outsmarted by the old-timer. You also challenged him when both feet were on the ground. You didn’t piss him off like most people did when they challenged him, he tried to become better.

He knew he really had liked you when you told Rooster off for the stupid death spiral that he and Maverick were in. You were the only one that was able to get through to Rooster as your words really cut like ice, your dad shining through. He watched curiously as Rooster walked away like a sad puppy, tail tucked between his legs. You, you were fuming. He was sure he hasn’t seen you so mad. You let out the most frustrated groan as you lightly punched the wall. Not stupid like the boys before you who had broken their hands on the cement behind it. He watched as you leaned against the walls collecting yourself. You took a moment before you stood back up fixing your uniform. You turned and spotted Hangman standing there giving him an awkward hello before walking away quickly. Yeah, he liked you. He liked you more than he really cared to admit.

He brought you over your favorite beer on tap sliding it to you as he sat at the high-top opposite you. You smiled thanking him and took a big swig from the glass, “Rough day?” Jake asked eyes softening just slightly.

“Nah, I’m okay.” You spoke, “Just been thinking about the mission, that’s all.”

He bobbed his head seemingly agreeing with you, “Kazansky scared? I’ll be.” He grinned giving you some much needed shit.

“Shut up, Hangman. You know that’s not what I meant.”

He laughed softly nodding in agreement, “I know Y/N. Some serious stuff.”

“You could say that again.” You downed some more of it, nearly finishing the glass in two drinks, “I guess you could say I am a little scared.” You admitted quietly waiting for him to interrupt. When it didn’t come you continued, “I’ve known Mav my entire life and I’ve never seen him like this before Jake.”

“That’s why were here.” He tried to cheer you up.

“I know.” You sighed finishing the beer off. Hangman was impressed, he was only a few drinks in. “It doesn’t make it any less frightening.”

“Shit, Y/N.” He spoke delicately, you traced your eyes up his body to his face wanting to hear what he had to say. He continued when he had your full attention, “You’re on of the best pilots I know. You might be better than me. If you repeat that I will deny it so don’t even try it.” He smirked continuing on, “You were born for this mission. Don’t let Mav freak you out. Go be that confident Lava in the sky, that you can’t be stopped.” He breathed out looking at you happily.

Stunned. You were stunned. And you were a hundred percent your face looked just as stunned as you felt. You were computing his words, yet it didn’t make sense coming from him. Soft Jake? Sweet Jake? You weren’t going to sit here and deny it. Especially because he didn’t give you a chance to respond before he took your glass and told you he was getting you another. He left you with that.

He was showing you a different side of him. You had seen the softened facial expressions and knew when he let up when you two were going at it. But this, this Jake was different. You were sure he was showing his true self to you. He came back and slid the beer over to you like he did the first time, smoother than ever.

“Thanks Jake. For the beer, for everything.” You smiled softly to him. You took your time looking at him curiously, fully drinking him in. Gosh, was he beautiful. He had that damn toothpick in his mouth. You loved that damn toothpick. You loved when he smiled with it too, his dimples always showed when he did. You could hardly take the green eyed, dimpled combination that was in front of you all too often. Mav was right, you needed to tell him, you were struggling keeping this one from him.

“Anything for you Kazansky.” He said without a bit of sarcasm in his voice. A chill ran down your spine, you were sure these physical reactions were going to give you away at any time now. You sat back slightly wondering how in the hell the Hangman had wrapped you so tightly around his finger. You were hooked. Truly hooked on every word he spoke, every look he gave you. How had he done that to you in less than three weeks? You weren’t sure. You didn’t really care either. Your head was already exploding in fear from the mission but with something else entirely when you thought of Hangman, something foreign to you.

“I like soft Jake.” You fluttered your eyes, clueless to the effect you were having on him. He too was utterly fascinated by your presence. He also wasn’t sure what you had done to him. But he sure well knew he would do just about anything for you. He was so drawn to every aspect of you. Your delicate smile you gave everyone and the genuine one you threw his way every now and then. Your calm and collected demeanor in the air, even when Mav beats up on you. Your sweet eyes and all the emotions you tried (but failed) to hide from him. He didn’t really want to wait on you anymore. He just wanted to tell you exactly how he felt so he could hold you, feel you, take you in.

“I like you. You know.” He admitted so nonchalantly you did a double take.

You sucked in a breath so taken aback by his admission to you, “You what?”

“Like you, Kazansky. A lot. I like you a lot. A lot a lot.” He grinned moving himself to the seat next you. He took one of your hands in his, picking your hand up so gently.

“You do?” You whispered, dumbfounded really.

“Don’t act so surprised Y/N. You’re incredible.” He kissed the back of your hand softly. Your heart nearly jumped out of your throat.

“Okay.” You nodded wanting to slap yourself in the face. Okay? Okay, was that all you had? You took a second longer to process what he was really saying, “You like me.”

He laughed scooting even closer, not dropping your hand but squeezing it instead, “I do Kazansky.”

“Well, that’s good.” You gave him that genuine Y/N smile he desired to see once more.

He chuckled inching even closer, your chairs were touching now, “That’s good.” He repeated back to you.

Realizing how dumb you were sounding you continued, “I like you too, Jake.”

He gave you his genuine Jake smile. You could’ve melted right then and there. You had to remind yourself that your fellow classmates were not too far off, “I know.”

You shook your head in response to that cockier than thou attitude, “Course you did.”

He moved his hand to brush some hair out of your face, “It’s nice to hear you say it though, darling.”

You eyed your surroundings, not forgetting where you were. You were going to melt into this man and the wrong person was bound to see. You pulled him out of his chair pointing to the door. He grabbed the beers following you out of the bar as casually as possible. You found a spot on the back patio away from any prying eyes.

“Sorry, it felt… claustrophobic in there.”

He pulled you down, so you were sitting on his lap. You felt so self-conscious when he did so. Your breathing became uneven. He could feel your apprehension. Slower, he noted. He was excited to get to know you better. You were unlike any woman he’s ever met. He didn’t want to screw it up by doing something your uncomfortable.

“I should have asked. I’m sorry Kazansky.” He whispered in your ear trying to make you more comfortable. A full body shiver erupted when he did so. If he noticed he didn’t say anything. He just ran his hands across your back willing you into his embrace.

“S’kay.” You mumbled falling into his touch almost immediately. You relaxed against his chest quickly feeling at home in his arms. You fought to keep your eyes open, but they didn’t want to listen.

You felt him laugh softly as he moved his hands up and down your back. Seeing just how easy it was to get you to relax into him, “It’s only nine sweetheart.” The sun had begun its decent for the evening casting a beautiful array of oranges and pinks into the sky.

“Way past my bedtime.” You mumbled into his chest. You instinctively curled yourself closer into him. You took a long deep breath in smiling as you smelled him. He smelled so good to you, even after a long day he smelled so good, so Jake.

“Let’s get you home then.” Before he could shift you shook your head.

“No, please.” You sighed looking up to him. He was looking at you so lovingly. The droopiest eyes you’ve seen on him yet. It felt like every nerve on you was on fire, not feeling so tired anymore, “Just a few more minutes, you’re so comfy.” You dopily smiled to the lovestruck man holding onto you.

“Like I said earlier, anything for you Kazansky.”

You lit up at him, “Which reminds me, you’re going to have to meet my dad.”

He looked like he lost a shade off his tan as you reminded him. He tried to play it off as nonchalantly as he could, “He’ll love me, promise darling.”

“We’ll see about that Jake.”

“We sure will.” He kissed the top of your head, pulling you closer.

Part 2

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tangibletechnomancy · 5 months

Text

The (Personal) Is (Political)

~7 hours, Dall-E 3 via Bing Image Creator, generated under the Code of Ethics of Are We Art Yet?

Or, Dear Microsoft and OpenAI: Your Filters Can't Stop Me From Saying Things: An interactive exercise in why all art is political and game of Spot The Symbols

A rare piece I consider Fully Finished simply as a jpeg, though I may do something physical with it regardless. "Director commentary" below, but I strongly encourage you to go over this and analyze it yourself before clicking through, then see how much your reading aligns with my intent.

Elements I told the model to add and a brief (...or at least inexhaustive) overview of why:

Anime style and character figures - Frequently associated with commercial "low" art and consumer culture, in East Asia and the English-speaking world alike, albeit in different ways - justly or otherwise. There is frequently an element of racism to the denigration of anime styles in the west; nearly any American artist who has taken formal illustration classes can tell you a story of being told that anime style will only hinder them, that no one will hire them if they see anime, or even being graded more harshly and scrutinized for potential anime-esque elements if they like anime or imply that they may like anime - including just by being Asian and young. On the other hand, it is true that there is a commercial strategy of "slap an anime girl on it and it will sell". The passion fans feel for these characters is genuine - and it is very, very exploitable. In fact, this commercialization puts anime styles in particular in a very contentious position when it comes to AI discussions!

Dark-skinned boy with platinum and pink [and blue] hair - Racism and colorism! They're a thing, no matter how much the worst people in the world want you to think they're long over and "critical race theory" is the work of evil anti-American terrorists! I chose his appearance because I knew that unless I was incredibly lucky, I would have to fight with this model for multiple hours to get satisfactory results on this point in particular - and indeed I did. It was an interesting experience - what didn't surprise me was how much work it took me to get a skin color darker than medium-dark tan; what did surprise me was that the hair color was very difficult to get right. In anime art, for dark skin to be matched with light hair and eyes is common enough to be...pretty problematic. Bing Image Creator/Dall-E, on the other hand, swings completely in the opposite direction and struggles with the concept of giving dark-skinned characters any hair color OTHER than black, demanding pretty specific phrasing to get it right even 70% of the time. (I might cynically call this yet another illustration against the pervasive copy-paste myth...) There is also much to say about the hair texture and facial features - while I was pleased to see that more results than I expected gave me textured hair and/or box braids without me asking for it, those were still very much in the minority, and I never saw any deviation from the typical anime facial structures meant to illustrate Asian and white characters. Not even once!

Pink and blue color palette - Our subject is transgender. Bias self-check time: did you make that association as quickly as you would with a light-skinned character, or even Sylveon?

Long hair, cute clothes, lots of accessories - Styling while transmasc is a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't situation, doubly so if you're not white. In many locations, the medical establishment and mainstream attitude demands total conformity to the dominant culture's standard conventional masculinity, or else "revoking your man card" isn't just a joke meant to uphold the idea that men are "better" than women, but a very real threat. In many queer communities, especially online, transmascs are expected to always be cute femboys who love pink (while transfems are frequently degraded and seen as threats for being butch), and being Just Some Guy is viewed as inherently a sign of assimilationism at best and abusiveness at worst. It is an eternal tug-of-war where "cuteness" and ornamentation are both demanded and banned at the same time. Black and brown people are often hypermasculinized and denied the opportunity to even be "cute" in the first place, regardless of gender. Long hair and how gender is read into it is extremely culture-dependent; no matter what it means to you, if anything, the dominant culture wherever you are will read it as it likes.

Trophies and medals - For one, the trans sports Disk Horse has set feminism back by nearly 50 years; I'm barely a Real History-Remembering Adult and yet I clearly remember a time when the feminist claim about gender in sports was predominantly "hey, it's pretty fucked up that sports are segregated by sex rather than weight class or similar measures, especially when women's sports are usually paid much less and given weirdly oversexualized uniforms," but then a few loud living embodiments of turds in the punch bowl realized that might mean treating trans people fairly and now it's super common for self-proclaimed feminists - mostly white ones - to claim that the strongest woman will still never measure up to the weakest man and this is totally a feminist statement because they totally want to PROTECT women (with invasive medical screenings on girls as young as 12 to prove they're Really Women if they perform too well, of course). For two, Black and brown people are stereotyped as being innately more sporty, physically strong, and, again, Masculine(TM) than others, which frequently intersects with item 1...and if you think it only affects trans women, I am sorry my friend but it is so much worse and more extensive than you think.

Hearts - They mean many things. Love. Happiness. Cuteness. Social media engagement?

TikTok - A platform widely known and hated around these parts for its arcane and deeply regressive algorithm; I felt it deserved to be name/layout/logodropped for reasons that, if they're not clear already, should become so in the final paragraph.

Computers, cameras and cell phones - My initial specification was that one of the phones should be on Instagram and another on TikTok, which the model instead chose to interpret as putting a TikTok sticker on the laptop, but sure, okay. They're ubiquitous in the modern day, for better and for worse. For all the debate over whether phones and social media are Good For Us or Bad For Us, the fact of the matter is, they seem to be a net positive-to-neutral, whose impacts depend on the person - but they do still have major drawbacks. The internet is a platform for conspiracy theories and pseudoscience and dangerous hoaxes to spread farther than ever before. Social media culture leaves many people feeling like we're always being watched and every waking moment of our lives must be Perfect - and in some senses, we are always being watched these days. Digital privacy is eroding by the day, already being used to enforce all the most unjust laws on the books, which leads to-

Pigs - I wrote the prompt with the intention that it would just be a sticker on the laptop, but instead it chose to put them everywhere, and given that I wanted to make a somewhat stealthy statement about surveillance, especially of the marginalized...thanks for that, Dall-E! ;)

Alligators - A counter to the pigs; a short-lived antifascist symbol after...this.

Details I did not intend but love anyway:

The blue in the hair - I only prompted for platinum and pink in the hair, but the overall color palette description "bled" over here anyway, completing the trans flag, making it even more blatant, and thus even more effective as a bias self-check.

The Macbook - I only specified a laptop. Hilariously ironic, to me, that a service provided through Bing interpreted "laptop" as "Macbook" nearly every time. In my recent history, 22 out of 24 attempts show, specifically, a Macbook. Microsoft v. OpenAI divorce arc when? ;) But also, let us not forget Apple's role in the ever-worsening sanitization of the internet. A Macbook with a TikTok sticker (or, well, a Tiikok sticker - recognizable enough) - I can think of little more emblematic of one of the main things I was complaining about, and it was a happy accident. Or perhaps an unhappy one, considering what it may imply about Apple's grip on culture and communications.

Which brings me to my process:

Generated over ~7 hours with Dall-E 3 through Bing Image Creator - The most powerful free tool out there for txt2img these days, as well as a nightmare of filters and what may be the most disgustingly, cloyingly impersonal toxic positivity I've ever witnessed from a tool. It wants to be Art(TM), yet it wants to ban Politics(TM); two things which are very much incompatible - and so, I wanted to make A Controversial Statement using only the most unflaggable, innocuous elements imaginable, no matter how long it took.

All art is political. All life is political. All our "defaults" are cultural, and therefore political. Anything whatsoever can be a symbol.

If you want all art to be a substance-free "look at the pretty picture :)" - it doesn't matter how much you filter, buddy, you've got a big storm coming.

#ai art #generated art #dall-e 3 #bing image creator

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the-nysh · 11 months

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Appreciation for when Nightow draws these dark jumpscares of Vash looking absolutely terrifying (from Trigun vol2 & Trimax vol2)

Scaring everyone around him with a pressure so intense, like constraining an unfathomable darkness simmering just below the surface, that his friends and opponents alike are unnerved by just how....inhuman he can suddenly become.

As felt by Milly, Wolfwood, and Leonof the Puppetmaster (notably up to this point, Meryl's been startled and scared for him, but not frightened by Vash's unmasked darker 'diablo' side like the others have...)

That Leonof even notes (in Trimax vol3) a normal human would have already succumbed or lost himself to that level of darkness he carries....making Vash the complete opposite of one. To have endured the depths of that much sorrow, suffering, and rage beyond the scope of what's humanly possible. How he's so much like a human, yet uncannily nothing like one at all; he's something else entirely.

And yet, even despite that heavy darkness of accumulated demons and horrors beyond any human's lifetime or comprehension--being the very inescapable burden he carries as one who's functionally immortal, it's also just as Luida says--Vash somehow keeps on living and pressing forward through that endless personal hell regardless...

#trigun #trigunbookclub #manga panels #commentary #at first this was simply art appreciation til oh wait i still have Thoughts about it #esp once trimax vol3 gave us more perspective to how deep his darkness goes #it's that pressurized and intense from Everything he's had to endure over a lifetime being functionally immortal #the fact he has makes him just as inhuman as....only being able to endure it because he's not human :')

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teenage-mutant-ninja-freak · 1 month

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if is it ok to request, what if April brought her best friend down to meet the bayverse turtles? But her bestie is goth/punk with piercings and tattoos? looks a little intimidating but an abseloute sweetheart?<3

love this idea, thank you for your patience as it's taken me so long to get to this x

Also this is 100% like my best friend, they're super goth and tatted up to the 9's but they're also a massive sweetheart

Leo

"hey, I have someone I want you to meet" April calls from the doorway to the lair

Leo knows who she wants him to meet, she's been going on and on about how this friend is finally in town and she would love to hang out, all of you guys together

he puts on all his charm

"And who is this lovely-"

then he sees her

lips, eyebrows and nose pierced, hair dyed in an acid green/black split dye, dark and black ripped up clothes, tattoos covering every inch of visible skin

"-wow" is all he can make out

she's the complete opposite of April looks wise

"No, keep going. You were about to tell me how lovely I look" she jokes. "Hey, I may not be barbie girl pretty but I bet 'ya anything I can kick your ass at call of duty!"

that softens the mood and makes everyone a little more relaxed

and she was totally right, Leo was fighting for his life playing that game with her

when it's finally time for them to leave she calls back "And if you think my hair is cool, just wait til you see what I can do with a paint brush, that shell of your's is going to put the Sistine Chapel to shame when I'm done with it!"

Leo just laughs, thinks she's a great girl

"Never judge a book by its cover" he mouths to April as she walks out the door

Raph

He knows April is there, he can hear her joking with Mikey but he can hear another woman's voice

he walks in to say hi and stops dead in his tracks when he sees who she's with

"......"

"Raph, it's rude to stare" April scolds

"It's ok" he friend reassures "I just have a natural allure that's irresistible to men and turtles alike, it would seem"

that makes him chuckle, she's funny, he's glad she's funny

"The, erm, the..." He keeps touching his nose, clearly indicating towards her septum piercing "... like a bull" is all he manages

"Well, I am a taurus" she quips back

he laughs again

tensions settle after that and he gets on with her like a house on fire

he asks her later what he first impression of him was, since it was clear he was taken aback by her appearance

"My first thought was whether or not you'd fit through the door frame, holy shit dude you're built like a truck!"

the rest of the evening is spent with a lot of joking and laughing, April's friend can give as good as she gets and Raph likes that

Mikey

He's so excited to meet April's friend

so much so, he's prancing round the place trying to get everything ready

when April walks through the door with her, he his jaw drops

"Devil lady!" he says in a tone which indicates he clearly thought that was a compliment

"Masked turtle man!" she replies with the exact same enthusiasm

the two of them bond over how cool she is and how cool Mikey is

comparing stories and boasting, all in good fun, until they both get a bit carried away

April has to put her foot down when her friend tries to give him a stick 'n poke tattoo on the kitchen floor

"It's not sanitary! Put the ball point pen away! He's gonna get sepsis!!!"

eventually they all retire to the sofa and play guitar hero, which April's friend does not do too well at

"I thought all you punk chicks knew how to play guitar" he says

"Nope, we just date guys who do" she laughs

After they leave Mikey is begging April to bring her round again

he still wants that tattoo

Donnie

He's not the best at meeting new people

but, he actually feels more comfortable when he see's April's friend is alternative looking

he loves a good social outcast because he is one

they bond over talking about the history of subcultures and the ecological impacts of fast fashion and why you should DIY all your clothes or thrift them

April is ind of just sitting there like "what have I done? Putting two nerds in the same room..."

When the subject of tattoos gets brought up she mentions a couple she regrets

cue Donnie and his inventions

"I have a laser remover!"

"No" April pipes up

"It's totally safe, it's just-"

"N-O! No!" she reiterates

her friend mouths "When she's gone" and winks at him

the two of them are fast friends

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #april o'neil #April's friend #Aprils friend #goth friend #punk friend #alternative friend #tmnt donnie #tmnt raph #tmnt leo #tmnt mikey #tmnt headcannons #headcannons

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 3 months

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It's Who We Have | Part Six

Summary: After dinner with Billy's parents, the bridge is difficult to rebuild | Word Count: 5.1k~ | Warnings: angst, family trauma, mentions of terrorism, heavy(ish) petting, billy going softie

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Lana was a little, petite woman, and yet she slammed the door so hard, it could have come off its hinges. She even thought she saw the family portrait above the fireplace wobble.

A steady, raw silence filled the air at the dinner table. Billy’s mum stared forwards at the centrepiece, with two M&S candles lit, and sighed softly, as if disappointed that she hadn’t expected such behaviour. She remembers Billy’s dad huffing as he got out his seat and wordlessly stepped through the creaky french doors, pulling a bag of tobacco out his pocket to roll himself a cigarette.

She also remembers the cracked leather of the seat cushion, how her feet didn’t touch the floor and the gnawing ache of hunger in her stomach. The passing thought that perhaps this was the only hot meal she was likely to have for a while, and it was in someone else’s house.

Billy remained quiet beside her, scraping the tongs of his fork against his plate as he tried to stab at a pre-cut piece of sausage, seemingly quite used to keeping silent after the usual outburst from his older sister.

“Come on, chick, you’re alright,” Billy’s mum smiled softly, the lines in her cheeks deepening as well as around her eyes, coaxing her to eat once again, after being rattled by the incessant shouting and blaring of Lana’s teenage rampage.

In the eyes of Mrs Washington, there was care, tinged with sadness that such behaviour had made the little girl sitting opposite her curl back into her shell, mouth sealed shut as if on instinct. And so, she chose to trust this mother’s nature, and ate slowly, grateful at least for the company of Billy beside her, non-judgemental and kind-hearted.

He and his mum were always alike in that way.

"Mummy, can we play upstairs after—" Billy began, interrupted by the ringing of the home phone. His mum rose from her seat, excusing herself to answer it.

"Just a second, love," she said, her voice warm and comforting. “Hello.”

Even her voice down the phone had that warm embracing tone of motherhood.

But all she heard on the other end was shouting she actually recognised. Her own mum, clearly in whatever addled state, her loud screaming crackling against Mrs Washington’s ear.

“Yes, she’s here- can she not finish her dinner first -” Val murmured, her back turned to both children sat at the table still, as if to shield them from the onslaught of verbal abuse, “-I understand she’s your daught- yes - yes, I’ll bring her home after she’s had her tea-”

The way the phone was placed back on the charging dock made her stomach flip with nerves. Combined with the solemn expression on Billy’s mum’s face, she heard the words before they were even spoken.

“That was your mum, darling,” she said quietly, carefully, her eyebrows arched in worry, “take your time having your tea, alright.”

And she did. She always would.

“Hiya sweetheart!” Val's voice was wobbly as she greeted her at the front door, giving her a bruising hug that pressed right against her ribs, “you're early.”

She nodded with a tight lipped smile, “thought I'd come and help with dishing up.”

“Oh, don't be silly, duck. You're our guest!”

Armed with her first cup of tea in the Washington household, it didn't take Val long to be completely overwhelmed with everything she had going on, and resorted to accepting her help anyway.

Clearly, Billy's mum had been excited for this. A notion that warmed her heart. Val had gone all out, roasted parsnips, Yorkshire puddings, roasted veg, roast and mash potato, sausages and a cut of beef. Enough to easily feed six. And she found herself biting back a smile wondering if Val had realised just how much food she'd done.

Like most mothers, this was her love language. Making sure everyone was fed.

She felt a lightness that hadn't been there for quite some time. Billy hadn't arrived yet, and she knew that the second he did, the mood would flatten, become suffocating. Like a hug that is too tight.

His arrival was made worse by the fact that he was late, and his dad didn’t miss a beat in telling him off, both of his parents already on his back in different ways the second he walked across the threshold. Shoulders slumped in depression, dragging his body around on long limbs like he was walking through honey.

Jeff had no hope of noticing the rift between them, but Val certainly did when Billy and her locked eyes across the hallway, for a moment not knowing what to say. And it likely would have stayed that way, until Billy eventually cleared his throat and let his mum take his coat, nodding.

“Alright?”

She herself had to force her voice out, “Yeah, thanks. You?”

Conversation didn't improve further than that at the dinner table, though the warm, familiar smell of roast potatoes and meat flavoured with herbs filled the intimate space, she found herself restless, sat beside Billy, with Mr and Mrs Washington opposite them.

Thank god for Val. For if she didn't try, the entire evening would be dead silent and just the sound of clinking cutlery would be enough to drive someone mad.

“How is your new flat, chick?” She asked sweetly, eyes wide and genuinely caring, “settling in alright?”

“Yes thanks, it needs the little niceties but it's a good roof over my head.”

Val nodded approvingly. "Good to hear.”

“Yeah it's about time you got your own place,” Jeff gruffed, not even looking at her to see the sinking look on her face, nor the one of his disgruntled wife.

Billy felt the awkwardness. The skirting around what his dad really meant. And he sat, picking at a stick of roasted carrot, when his dad asked the fated question, “any luck on the job front?”

She could feel herself wince. And even saw Billy tense up in her peripheral vision.

Billy sighed, pushing his chair out, “gonna go for a smoke.”

“But you're not finished with din-”

“I'll be right back, Mum,” despite his mother's protest, he slipped out the French doors, searching his pockets for a cigarette.

She watched him for a moment as Val elbowed her husband, “do you have to fucking start?”

“What? I was just asking!”

She felt the smile threaten, stabbing a honey-roasted parsnip as she listened to them bicker. But also a dull ache in her chest at Billy's retreat back into himself, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. It wasn't just the rejection from his friends; it was the sense of being ganged up on by his own parents, compounded by Lana's absence.

“How is it, love?” Val asked.

“Lovely, Mrs Washington,” she smiled kindly in return, “parsnips never disappoint.”

She'd never tire of the way Billy's mum smiled. “Well, take your time.”

She could've laughed. Some things never change.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Jeff retired to the living room, half asleep with a belly full of Sunday dinner and god-knows-what episode of Faulty Towers on the tele. And when it was time to leave, Billy gave an ingenuine, tight-lipped smile as his mum handed him his coat, “did you drive?” she asked.

“Nah, walked. Got a mate fixing up my car.”

It was near-comical, the way Billy’s head snapped up at the sound of her voice, as if startled she’d been there listening, “do you need a lift?” she asked, pulling her bag over her shoulder, car keys bundled in one hand.

Billy’s eyes lowered slightly and then rose again to her face, not replying immediately, which made her heart race fast in her chest.

“It’s on the way so…” she hated the desperation in her voice, and tried hard to will the tone of it away. But Billy looked forward to her, a slow, gentle recognition and a reluctance in his expression, shocked she’d even offered.

“Yeah, alright.”

After a slew of friendly ‘thank yous’ and goodbye hugs, she let out a shaky breath as soon as she sat in the driver’s seat, fingers curled around the leather steering wheel as if to keep them from shaking as Billy slid into the passenger seat, spreading his long legs into the footwell once he’d adjusted his seat all the way back.

Neither said a single word for what felt like a lifetime.

As she halted at a red traffic light, the harsh glow accentuated the lines of tension etched on her face, mirroring the fading twilight. Billy broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper against the hum of the blowers set on the lowest setting.

“Thanks for the lift.”

One arm rested on the window frame, their eyes locked for a split second before the light shifted to green, “anytime.”

The silence that followed deepened the pit in her chest, making her feel antsy and nervous in equal measure. Billy wasn't faring much better, twirling his thumbs in his lap, and bouncing his left leg just to have something to do.

Pulling into the vacant spot behind Billy's battered Vauxhall, she felt a surge of apprehension mingle with the hollow pit in her chest. The engine's persistent hum seemed to mock their inability to bridge the growing chasm between them.

And he didn't move to get out the car.

Billy sighed, his fingers rubbing his temple, “How do we do this then.”

“Do what?” she countered, her voice betraying a trace of defensiveness

He gestured between them, frustration simmering beneath the surface, “This. Us,” he answered simply, his throat bobbing as if stressed.

“I don’t think that’s really a question you should be asking me, is it?”

Billy shook his head, a mirthless laugh escaping his lips. "I just don't want this anymore," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

Her heart clenched at his admission, the reality of their crumbling bond hitting her with devastating force. "Neither do I, Billy," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the din of their shared silence.

“Can we just talk,” he asked, a shaking tone invading his voice, “please?”

For a fleeting moment, she gazed out at the street through the windscreen, her eyes scanning the darkening sky. It felt as though a weighty conversation had perpetually lingered between them, and now, in this moment, it seemed inevitable.

With a simple, wordless gesture, she twisted the key in the ignition, silencing the engine's persistent hum. The abrupt cessation of sound plunged them back into the suffocating void of silence, where unspoken words hung heavy in the air like an oppressive fog.

Billy sat in the heavy silence, grappling with the weight of unspoken words. He knew he needed to apologise, to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, but the fear of looking foolish held him back.

Taking a deep breath, he shifted in his seat, his fingers drumming nervously against his thigh. He searched for the right words, ones that would convey his remorse without undermining his pride.

"I just... I want to make things right."

She was quiet, her eyes looking down at the gearstick, without the strength to look at him directly.

She shook her head, “why Billy?” she asked, “do you know how fucking heartbroken Abi was when he heard what you’d done?”

It was a mistake to glance over at him, the way her heart squeezed when she saw his head was lowered in shame, a whirlwind of emotions going off inside Billy’s head. Like he wasn’t sure what he should think for himself.

Billy's heart sank as her words pierced through him like daggers. He couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze, his shame weighing heavily upon him. Each syllable she uttered felt like a blow to his already battered conscience.

"I... I didn't mean to," he stammered, his voice tinged with remorse. "I was drunk, I wasn't thinking straight..."

His voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words to convey the depth of his regret. He knew he had hurt not just Abi, but their entire community, with his reckless actions.

Frustration bubbled in her chest as she shook her head, “being drunk isn’t an excuse. Last time I saw you, you were all ‘these people are stealing our jobs and ruining this country’ etc etc. What’s happened to that?” she countered, trying to control the steadily rising anger in her voice, “who are these people you’ve got yourself involved in? Because I know…I know this isn’t you, Billy.”

His throat constricted as her words struck him with the force of a sledgehammer. Shame burned hot in his chest, mingling with the simmering anger directed inward. He knew he had no excuse for his actions, but facing her condemnation made it all the more unbearable.

"I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the rush of blood in his ears. “I don't know what to believe anymore.”

For a split second, she felt the crush of his admission choke her with its oppressive weight, her throat closing up with emotion. The dread of being so utterly lonely radiating off him like a miasma. A barrage of emotions, memories, feelings threatened to overwhelm her at that very moment.

“I've not been completely innocent in this either,” she choked out, though it was difficult to say. And she knew he was looking at her, so she stared at something, anything else, to avoid the horrible feeling she was being pitied.

“I'll say it how it is, because nobody else wants to. My mum is shit, has always been, my dad is god knows where, I was impossible at school and I moved far away to uni to get away from that horrible sick feeling that everyone had seen those fucking pictures of me.”

The words tasted like venom, even to herself, at the heartbreaking predicament that was her life. She shook her head, wetting her lips nervously, “turns out running away didn't fix a single thing.”

Billy sighs, “I feel shit that I wasn't there for you.”

“We were barely adults, Billy. That's not on you.”

“Even so,” he argued, “If I had pulled my head out the ground for one second I would have seen,” he says, “you deserved better.”

She chanced it then, and glanced over at him, swallowing thickly with something weighing heavily on her shoulders. A smile tried to find its way to her face at the expression she was giving him, so, so similar to how he looked as a boy and a teenager, but with the roughened and sharp edges that defined him into adulthood.

“You know I’ve always been jealous of you.”

Billy’s eyes were tinged with confusion when she said that, the blue of his eyes barely noticeable in the low amber glow of the streetlights outside the car.

She tried to swallow whatever bubbled up, “I remember the first time I ever felt it…that first day of school.”

His lips parted, and eyebrows drew together as he looked into his lap, “please don’t-”

“No, let me speak,” she insisted, her voice tinged with pain, face clouding up with barely-contained grief, “I just-I saw you with your mum and couldn’t help it. You were so happy. So loved.”

Silence fell between them, her words strained by her strength to hold back tears hitting him to his very core. Billy remembers so clearly, he’d be embarrassed to admit. Leading her into the girls toilets and using blue tissues to wipe off the mud. Her face wet with tears. He very nearly smiled at the memory of it, and what bond was formed from that day on.

“You were the only one who ever really saw me,” she admitted, “and it made me feel that to someone I existed…and that I mattered.”

It felt painful, this bridge between them, aching to be rebuilt.

“Now it feels like I’m losing you…” she whispered, “...when I had hoped I’d given you that feeling back somewhere along the way.”

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the rift that had grown between them. Billy felt the ache of regret settle deep in his chest, knowing that he had failed her in more ways than he could count.

But she kept going, the words spilling out of her like she had kept them locked up for too long, and they were yearning to escape.

“So if these…right-wing, George Cross-waving twats make you feel like you matter then I have massively fucked up somewhere..”, the words nearly made a smile rise to his face, but the seriousness of the conversation made him simply just glance up at her, “..and for that I’m sorry.”

Her words cut through the tension like a knife, raw with emotion and self-recrimination. Billy's heart clenched at the pain in her voice, the weight of her apology hanging heavy in the air.

He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering in the space between them. "I'm sorry too," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

She wet her lips, drawing in a needed breath to fuel the tears that were now rolling down her face, her throat feeling raw when she slid her hand into his, fingers interwoven, the foundations of that bridge feeling all the more heavy, but manageable. And for a long moment, neither said a word, but it felt easier to bask in it, knowing that it was slowly piecing together the broken bonds that had once scattered about their lives.

“Promise me,” she utters weakly, “promise me you’ll stop this, whatever you’re doing with them. Apologise to Abi, Ami, everyone…I know you’re hurting but you’re better than this.”

Her honesty was appreciated but stung all the same.

"Promise," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Her eyes searched his, hope mingling with uncertainty. Slowly, a tentative smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a glimmer of relief illuminating her tear-streaked face.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for trying."

She felt something warm shimmer pleasantly in her chest when Billy’s thumb stroked against the back of her hand, along her knuckles.

“Sorry,” attempting to lighten the mood with a weak laugh, she wiped one cheek, trying to smear the tears away to make way for relief.

Billy smiles boyishly, and there’s something light and nostalgic about it, “nothing changes,” he starts, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “you still look ugly when you cry.”

She laughs despite her tears, brushing them away gently as she responds, a softness creeping into her tone as their old connection flickers back to life. “Fuck off.”

It felt nice, laughing again, with the lingering hope that Billy desired real change.

“‘m only joking,” he murmured, leaning over the centre console, his other hand reaching out to brush her hair out her face in a motion that made her heart clench and warmth pool in her stomach, “you look beautiful.”

As soon as the words left his lips, the atmosphere in the cramped space shifted, charged with an undeniable tension. Their proximity felt electrifying, every inch of space between them tingling with unspoken desire. How many years had led to this moment they were sharing now, quiet and dark, their eyes alone communicating the depth of this impulse to inch closer?

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them, as if words were no longer necessary in this charged atmosphere. But the tension demanded some kind of release, some acknowledgment of the emotions swirling between them.

Billy's gaze softened, his hand lingering on her cheek. "I've missed this," he confessed, voice tinged with vulnerability. "Being with you like this.”

When she wet her lips anxiously, she swore she saw his eyes flit to them briefly, her reply taking longer than usual to form, "It feels like coming home," she agreed, her voice barely a whisper.

In that moment, the weight of their shared history and the promise of a future filled with possibility hung in the air between them like a tangible force, crackling with tension. Each heartbeat echoed in the silence, a drumbeat urging them forward into the unknown.

It reminded her of that night at Cranstead Fields. She can still hear the clinking of glasses, Libby’s high-pitched drunken confessions to Abi, sat on his lap, Paddy and Harry wrestling on the grass, white shirts smudged with green as they argued about who should go and fetch the football while Ami pulled at their shirts to separate them.

But what she remembers most about that night, was the taste of WKD on Billy’s lips, the warmth that bloomed in her stomach and flipped with nerves and the flush that rose to her face when Billy had turned his face, to press his lips flush to hers and parted them with the swipe of his tongue.

And that is what she felt now, bar the taste of cheap vodka, as once again, however many years later, it was sealed with a sweet but urgent kiss.

She felt his thumbs on her cheeks, fingers threaded through her hair to pull her close to him, and just like she had that night, her hand found its way to his chest, to feel his heart thrumming beneath his skin, the material of his shirt caught in her palm. And Billy felt her eyelashes against his cheek, it was a delicate dance, a balance between desire and restraint, as they navigated the uncharted territory.

But as their lips lingered, a silent understanding passed between them, a silent agreement that this was just the beginning of their journey back to each other.

When they parted, pulling air between their now disconnected lips, all they could do was look at each other, the waves of realisation that the lines between friendship and whatever this was were rapidly blurring was heart-clenching.

“Sorry-”

She shook her head lightly, “No…it's alright, really.”

They both knew that they had just crossed a line, blurring the boundaries of their friendship in a way that couldn't be undone. But despite the awkwardness, there was also a sense of relief in finally acknowledging the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

"We should... probably talk about this," she suggested, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, we should," Billy agreed, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and longing.

And as they sat in silence, grappling with the newfound complexity of their relationship, they both knew that their friendship would never be the same again. But whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

He cleared his throat, the sound breaking the heavy silence that hung between them like a tangible barrier. “Do you wanna come in? For a cuppa?”

She felt her heart race at the invitation, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. This was familiar territory, yet everything felt different now, charged with an electric tension that crackled in the air between them.

The offer of a cup of tea seemed mundane, almost laughable given the charged atmosphere that enveloped them. But neither of them made a move to acknowledge the unspoken truth lingering beneath the surface.

"Um, yeah, sure," she managed to reply, her voice barely above a whisper. Her tongue suddenly feeling too big for her own mouth as she undid her seatbelt and followed awkwardly behind him as he unlocked the street-level door and lingered behind once they ascended the stairs to his flat.

His flat had changed little from the last time she'd seen it, albeit the clothes were put away. The kettle remained untouched, forgotten amidst the unspoken desires that pulsed between them like a current.

Every breath felt like a struggle, the air charged with a palpable longing that neither of them dared to voice. But for now, they remained frozen in place, suspended in a silent dance of desire and hesitation. She felt so small, standing in his lounge, that when she glanced up and saw Billy leaning against the doorframe, near-filling any void space of it, hands tucked in his pockets.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "I don't want to ignore what just happened between us. It's... it's different now, isn't it?"

She nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "Yeah, it is. I mean, we've been friends for so long, but..." Her voice trailed off, the weight of their unspoken desires hanging heavy in the air.

"But things have changed," he finished for her, his voice barely above a whisper.

They both knew that there was no going back to the way things were before. Their friendship had evolved into something deeper, something more complex and fragile than either of them had ever anticipated. She felt her heart flutter sickly in her chest, the same way it had the last time they had kissed all those years ago.

"I don't want to ruin what we have," she said softly, her voice tinged with fear.

"Me neither," he agreed.

There was a long pause as they both grappled with the magnitude of what they were feeling. They had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, and now they had to figure out how to navigate this new terrain together.

"But I can't ignore the way I feel," he admitted, his voice trembling with emotion.

Her heart skipped a beat at his confession, her own feelings laid bare in the raw vulnerability of the moment.

And as they stood there in the quiet of his living room, their eyes locked in a silent understanding. The tension growing thick the longer they remained this way, and her heart lurching into his chest when Billy pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room to her in a few strides alone. So close, she could smell his fabric softener.

“I'm sorry I just can't,” he added swiftly, closing the space as she parted her lips to reply.

And just let go.

His fingers curled around her waist tightly, lips clumsily crashing together with desperation, years and years of denial, of longing, of sheer stubbornness, pouring out of each of them in crashing waves.

For a moment, she felt as if she didn't know whether she should touch him, hold onto him by his shoulders, and very much felt like he knew what he'd wanted to do much, much sooner than she had.

But the moment he pulled their hips flush, chests brushing, and her fingers slid up the nape of his neck to grasp the hair that touched his neck, it had felt right. The short, unshaven hair at his jaw scratched perfectly against her fingertips, and tickled her face the more he moved to capture her lips again.

His touch ignited a fire within her, sending shivers down her spine as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating whirlwind of desire. With every brush of his lips, she felt herself unravelling, melting into him with an urgency that bordered on desperation.

In that moment, there were no words, no thoughts, only the raw, primal need that consumed them both. And as they finally succumbed to the passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long, they knew that there was no turning back.

Her heart twisted in excitement as his hands made their way north, sliding up her sides beneath her shirt, thumbs drifting over her ribs to touch her in places she had secretly hoped he always would.

And she couldn't help the cringeworthy slip of his name as he grunted breathily into her mouth, his palms moulding her breasts through the frustrating layer of her bra, but pleased at the way her body reacted to it.

“Billy -”

How many years had he wanted to hear that?

She allowed herself the briefest touch of his skin, her fingers against his flesh made him tremble, and she saw the rush of feelings rise to his cheeks as he swallowed whatever he was thinking by pressing his lips fervently to hers instead.

The mere thought of being pressed close to her like this would usually have his body responding in tandem. But now, as his own hand paused at the waistband of her jeans, barely dipping beneath her underwear, he sighed to himself, embarrassed somewhat, and sorely regretted downing three cans of beer in two hours earlier in the evening when his body didn't reciprocate how his mind felt about her.

His forehead rested against the crook of her neck, hot breath batting against her collarbone. The pull of wanting to touch her like this, to just do it and make her feel every bit the way she deserved, was all-consuming.

But after a few empty seconds, he peeled his fingers away from the waistband of her jeans.

“Fuck- sorry…” he managed, out of breath, apologising for what felt like the millionth time that night, “can't…I've had too much to drink-”

“It's okay,” she smiled, the heat on her face feeling tight against the rise of her lips. She gave him a reassuring smile as she righted her clothes, still feeling the burning mark of his hands where they'd touched her bare skin. And as ashamed as she was to say it, the warm pooling of desire tugging at her belly.

“It's late, I should-”

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

She deflated once she saw the alerts pop up on her screen, “fuck- road’s closed. Gonna take me ages to drive home.”

While she scrolled, agitation growing at the idea of being stuck in her car for another hour, Billy eventually spoke, “stay here for the night,” he said, it came out more of a desperate plea than an offer at first.

He quickly shook his head of a trance when he saw her face, “U-uh, I mean, no funny business, you have the bed, I can have the sofa-”

“I couldn't ask that of you, Billy.”

“Well, you're not asking, I'm - offering,” he smiled boyishly, in a way that made it difficult to refuse.

She sighed through her nose, “I've got to go into Central London tomorrow.”

“Well…” he sighed, rubbing his palms nervously against his thighs, “I was supposed to meet the lads at Farringdon Tube Station tomorrow, I'll take you down - get you into London and…I'll break things off with them. For Good.”

Swallowing nervously, she met his gaze, her eyes pleading for reassurance. "Promise," he urged, his baby blue eyes wide with sincerity, pleading with her to believe him.

She hesitated, uncertainty clouding her features as she searched his face for any hint of doubt. She clicked off her phone and nodded, with a hopeful smile, “Okay.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires-deactivated20 @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

#billy washington x oc #billy washington x y/n #billy washington fanfic #billy washington #trigger point series #trigger point itv #trigger point fanfic #billy washington x reader #billy washington fanfiction #billy washington x fem!reader #billy washington x you #billy washington smut #billy washington trigger point #trigger point billy washington #billy washington angst #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters

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youcouldmakealife · 2 months

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SOTM: Lourdes Family, David; family traditons

For the prompt: Jake's sisters slowly warming up to David

The problem with Nat and David, Allie decides early on, is that they’re too alike. Not in most ways, really — she doesn’t think they’d agree on much when it comes to their taste in media, or hobbies, or any of that, and she’s sure they’d both be surprised if she said they were similar at all.

But Allie knows Nat better than she knows herself, probably, and she’s made an attempt at getting to know David, because she knows how important it is to Jake, and some of the things that make Natalie Nat to her seem to be pretty similar to the things that make David David.

They’re both quiet, but it’s not shyness with either of them, though it can seem like it unless you know them. As often as not, Nat’s quiet because silently dismantling whatever’s being said in her head, about to spring it on whatever poor unsuspecting person just claimed they ‘could care less’ or called a pterodactyl a dinosaur or something that matters to nobody but Nat.

Though mostly she doesn’t actually say it to them — unless they’re family, she corrects Allie all the time, and poor Jakey doesn’t stand a chance — she’s saying it as an aside to Allie, or recalling it later ,‘my co-worker thought Babylon was a mythological place, and when I said 'oh yeah, like Bethlehem?' he said 'yeah, exactly!'’ or ‘If I hear someone use literally when they mean figuratively one more time, Allie, I swear I'm going to snap’.

She’s quiet, and sometimes she seems checked out, but she’s always paying attention to what everyone else is saying. Allie’s learned it’s the same with David — she’ll mention something and then nine months later David will have gotten her a Christmas present based on her offhand comment. Or he’ll ask if she wants the same drink as last time, last time being like, six months ago. Allie doesn’t know if he’s got that kind of memory for everybody, or if it’s just because she’s Jake’s sister, and he’s still trying to impress all of them, but, well — consider her impressed, she guesses.

But also, she’s pretty sure he’s also picking up on the mistakes everybody else makes, except instead of ‘Allie, let me tell you the misspelled bumper sticker I saw today’, she isn’t hearing shit from him. She doesn’t think Jake is either, at least if the people making mistakes are them. And they probably are. Allie has no illusions that she makes no mistakes: if she did, Nat would have beaten that belief out of her by now.

“He thinks he’s better than us,” Nat complained once, and Allie pressed her lips together very tightly, and she didn’t say a thing, and frankly, she thinks she deserves a medal for that.

As similar as David can be to Nat, he’s absolutely nothing like Jake. If Allie was asked to list their similarities, it’d be like — ‘very athletic white dudes around the same age’, and then a bunch of hockey specific things. Beyond that, she’s got nothing. It isn’t just their personalities — they have completely different taste in everything. Different priorities, outside of similar career ones. Some overlapping friends, but Allie just attributes that to Jake being able to make friends with a table leg if he wants to. They could not be less alike.

Allie’s never been a big believer in the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing, but honestly, maybe she should be: mom and dad are a pretty good example of it, and Jake and David seem to bring out the best in each other.

It took Allie a little while to come to terms with them getting back together, but she can’t deny that Jake seems to grow when he’s around David. Maturity wise, but he also just seems to stand up straighter, like just being around David makes him more alert, or aware, or maybe even self-confident, though that’s never been something he's lacked.

It probably isn’t just David he’s like that with — Allie hasn’t seen him around the Panthers too much, but he is the captain, after all — but either way, it’s a nice thing to see Jake grown up.

He’s still the baby to her, will probably always be the baby to her — anyone she put in pigtails and pulled around in a little red wagon while telling everyone to look at her pretty little dolly is going to be a baby to her forever, let’s face it — but for all that he’s been taller than her since he was twelve, he felt like a kid to her the whole way to the show, and for awhile after. He doesn’t feel like a kid anymore. Baby, sure, he's always going to be that, but not a kid.

If anything, David feels more like one. Not that he’s childish, or immature, or whatever, because Allie suspects he wasn’t even childish when he was an actual child. Maybe more someone suddenly immersed in a foreign culture — he doesn’t know where he’s supposed to be, what he’s supposed to do, what the hell is up with the wishbone thing.

She’s seen Jake explain things to him, the traditions she thought everyone did, and the traditions that are very Lourdes specific, the way mom gives extra mashed potatoes if you're a suck up, and how if people don’t take turns opening presents it turns into a free-for-all, and how nobody actually eats the cranberry sauce.

When Jake isn’t there to do it — rare, but the dude does need bathroom breaks — Allie figures it’s no skin off her nose to do it instead, and she even overhears Nat doing it once, though she might have just been venting about someone saying dumb shit again. She does love to do that.

The important thing is that he keeps showing up, even though he’s uncomfortable every single time — though maybe Allie’s imagining it, but she thinks he’s reached the ‘almost comfortable’ stage this Christmas, like, maybe feeling a little awkward, but no more than anyone else would, spending Christmas with his boyfriend’s family. Maybe more than someone typically would if they’ve been doing it every year, but Allie knows they can be a lot, that most people have trouble keeping up with the rapid back and forth — even Jake gets left behind sometimes, then pouty when they start tease him about it.

David was a wide-eyed spectator, the first few times he saw that. Jake told Allie later that he didn’t hear the fondness in it, just the mockery, got defensive on Jake’s behalf. Allie doesn’t know how he’s survived locker rooms for so long — their love language is basically just mockery and punching each other in sensitive places, at least judging by Jake and his teammates back in the day. Probably now too. She’s met Cody Gallagher, unfortunately.

He takes it better now though, even joined in yesterday when everyone was shit-talking Jake’s recent stab at growing facial hair, while Jake tried and failed to defend himself through giggles. On the one hand, Allie’s just glad it isn’t a mustache, but on the other hand, maybe he’d do a better job with that. This morning, Jake comes down to breakfast clean-shaven. Allie isn’t delusional: he didn’t shave it because his sisters gave him shit. That was all David.

“High five,” Allie says when David joins them downstairs, and she’s half expecting a quizzical look, maybe even the ‘what the hell are the Lourdes talking about now’ one that surfaces sometimes, but instead she gets a tiny smile and a high five.

“I’m sitting right here, guys,” Jake says, but once again, he’s laughing.

#fic snippet #SOTM #david chapman #jake lourdes #allie lourdes #nat lourdes

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promptthebear · 8 months

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Edmund Pevensie, Soulmate AU

Part two of this

CW: Some violence but nothing super graphic. Some swearing. Serious enemies to lovers vibes. Telmar!Reader, so some physical description to match that sorry.

Cair Paravel was a testament of shining marble, fine tapestries and golden fixtures. It was the envy of many a nearby kingdom, most of whom had tried and failed to imitate its beauty. The same, however, could not be said of the dungeons.

The moment the dank, frigid air rose from behind the barred door, Edmund realized just how appealing his empty bed suddenly was. Everyone swore this part of the castle was haunted and though Edmund personally didn’t believe in such foolishness, he very much understood how those sorts of rumours came to be. He tried to stand tall and play at being courageous and stoic as he walked alongside the young guard down the winding steps, but his heart just wasn’t in it. Before long, Edmund found himself jumping at every distant sound and balking at every shadow cast in the flickering torch light, even when in fact said shadows were none other than his own.

Despite the fact that his young guard had been so anxious among the fine tapestries and clean rushes of the upstairs halls, the young man seemed completely comfortable among the dripping walls and dirt floors that created the bowels of the castle. He strode beside Edmund with an easy confidence, his grip on the torch he carried not wavering once, even when a rat ran nearly beneath his boot and announced its arrival with a piercing squeak.

When he managed to recover some of his wits and find enough voice with which to speak, Edmund asked the guard about it, more than a little curious on how such a skittish man could remain so calm in a place that left greater men shaking. By way of response, the youth merely shrugged and said “Everything that could hurt a fellow down here is already locked up, and the rats never bothered me none. S’far worse out in the forests”

While Edmund could see the guard’s side of things, he personally would have much rather been out in the forest tonight. He’d been riding those trails since he was a boy, and in that time he’d communed with all manner of creatures, magic and mundane alike. However, in his many years, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen anything quite like you.

Opposite to the castle in every way, the dungeons were incredibly small by the usual standard. They consisted in their entirety of three cells, while the rest of the space was mostly used as a recreational area for the various guards to play cards and the like. Usually, any prisoners awaiting trial were spread evenly between the three cells to avoid overcrowding and the potential for fights and disease to spread. That was not the case tonight, however.

Someone had taken the liberty of placing every inmate into the leftmost cell, and despite still having some room to move about or even lie down, the people locked inside had all crammed themselves into the back corner like bees in a hive. Edmund nearly thought the first cell was empty, until he caught a glimpse of several wide, fearful pairs of eyes that gleamed back at him in the ruddy torchlight. When he approached the cell to have a closer look, he was met with an eerie silence rather than the usual sighs, shuffling and coughs that occurred when you had a small crowd of people together. While Narnia was not known for housing a particularly nasty sort of criminal, the bulk of which were pickpockets and street hustlers, they were also not the type to scare easy.

Whatever was making these people frightened was bad enough that the guards had felt the need to keep the middle cell completely empty. This provided around ten more feet of space between the leftmost cell and the right most cell. Edmund stared between the middle cell and the occupied one on the left, trying to puzzle out what was so awful it had everyone this nervous. Even the guards seemed tenser than usual. They played hands of wist in almost completely silence, and had barely given Edmund a glance since he’d arrived. Normally, every soldier within spitting distance would be tripping over themselves bowing and trying to greet him.

Half expecting to find a dragon or an ogre, Edmund took a deep breath and approached the last cell. His boots made a hollow, tapping sound on the floor as he walked, each one an echo alongside the heartbeat pounding in his ears.

When he reached the padlocked door he stopped, and peered between the bars into the gloom. He could barely make out what was inside, if there was anything to begin with. An oppressive sort of darkness clung to this corner of the dungeon like cobwebs, making it nearly impossible to see anything farther than arm’s length away.

The torch that hung on the wall between centre and left cell had long since gone out. It sat, cold and forgotten in its sconce as though nobody had been willing to risk coming any closer to light it. Though it had been many years since Edmund had feared the dark, the sight of the blackened torch wasn’t a comforting one either.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the surrounded darkness, he caught his first glimpse of you. Edmund was immediately struck by the fact that, for whatever reason, someone had gone through the trouble of binding you up like a Christmas turkey. A pair of steel manacles had been clamped around your wrists, with a matching set around your ankles and a chain that looped between both so that you couldn’t sit upright properly, or move much at all really. There was also a rope twisted around your body in such a way that it bound your arms firmly to your sides, and forced your own legs to rest parallel with the legs of the wooden stool beneath you.

This set up alone would have been enough to hold back a drunken Minotaur, let alone a mere slip of a girl. Whichever one of the guards had shut you up in here clearly thought immobilizing you completely wasn’t good enough. A gag of rough spun cloth had been shoved between your lips and tied so tightly about your face, that it was tugging the edges of your mouth back towards your ears.

A bubble began to expand in Edmund’s gut, something that turned icy cold and burning hot in waves and made him feel as though he was about to be sick on the dirt floor. Memories came to the forefront of his mind, as though he had slipped into a waking nightmare. He could feel a gag against his own mouth, ropes biting at his wrists and the faint sounds of a war camp in his ears. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he had to rest his head for a moment against the cool metal bars to steady himself.

In the dark, Edmund could just make out the faint outlines of your face. He couldn’t read your expression, but he could tell that you were watching him. For a moment, he thought he detected a bit of sympathy in your eyes, a softness he didn’t expect. Then, you blinked and tossed your head in a haughty sort of manner, as though you didn’t give a shit if Edmund dropped dead right then and there.

Whatever he had seen in your eyes was quickly replaced by a steely sort of rage that seemed much more appropriate, given the circumstances. Disgusted with the situation and with himself, Edmund took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and turned to face the guards.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice echoing about the otherwise silent room in a kingly fashion “You have her tied up as though she were some sort of wild animal!”

The guards stared at him dumbly, as though tying up young women was not only an ordinary occurrence for them but an entirely acceptable thing to do. Edmund took another deep breath, and bit the inside of his cheek to force back the frustrated scream that wanted to push its way out. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, it was a day that ended in y after all, and on those days, the guards always acted as though they hadn’t been born with any sense. Thankfully, the Captain stepped forward before Edmund began tearing his hair out in fistfuls.

“She may as well be, your majesty” he said, tugging at his beard while he spoke “She’s done nothing but raise hell and cause trouble since we picked her up by the docks. Screamed like a banshee the whole way down, and then flew at us like a little wildcat the second we opened the caged wagon. She’s a biter too, look what she did to one of my lads.”

From the corner of his eye, Edmund saw a young man leave the card tables and quickly approach, though the Captain had not officially summoned anyone. The soldier could have been the twin of the other guard who’d escorted Edmund from upstairs, save for the thick white bandage in place where his left ear should have been. Already, a large, dark red blotch was forming against the white cotton, and it was all Edmund could do not to flinch in sympathy.

“G’on boy, show his Majesty what’s happened.”

The boy shuffled nervously back and forth for a moment, before reaching up to unwind the bandages. It was slow work, parts of the fabric had stuck together with dried blood and with each new layer shed, the young man seemed to grow weaker and more pallid. When there was nothing left but a coil of stained cotton on the floor, Edmund took a deep breath and forced himself to have a proper look at the wound. After only a few seconds, he had to look away again, his stomach churning.

“Bloody hell.” he muttered under his breath.

The Captain gave a stiff nod in response, before placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder to hold him steady. Any colour in the boy’s face had completely drained by this point, his skin was as white as the bandages had once been and there was a sheen of sweat upon his brow. If it wasn’t for the Captain supporting him, Edmund truly doubted he would’ve been able to stand at all.

“You asked me why I had the girl locked up, your Majesty. Well, there’s your answer. Mark or no mark, I will not stand idly by and let some Telmarine harlot rip decent Narnian citizens to pieces.”

The mention of the word “mark” made Edmund’s ears prick up, but he tried to feign an appropriately sombre countenance and turned his attention to the matter at hand. Before he gave you any more thought, he had a tetchy captain and a young soldier ending the night with one less ear than he started with to worry about.

“Captain, believe me when I say your concerns are taken with the utmost severity and I will do everything within my power as Kings Justice to make sure any Telmarines remain mindful of whose land they’re docking their ships on. As for this young man, he will be given all the proper recognition and honour…once he’s been seen to by my personal physicians.”

For a moment, it seemed as though some colour returned to the lad’s cheeks, though that also could have been the torchlight playing tricks. At the very least, he managed to give Edmund a wan smile and a soft “Thank you, your Majesty” before he slumped against the Captain’s side and fell silent.

“Captain, have two of your men rouse Lucy and Tumnus. By happy circumstance, they are both here in the castle tonight. If they have any misgivings about the matter, tell them they are being summoned at my personal behest.”

The Captain gave a stiff nod in Edmund’s direction, before turning his head and letting loose a sharp whistle from between his teeth. The sound was still echoing against the stone walls when two more guards appeared. Without a word, they each slung one of the wounded soldier’s arms over their shoulders and guided him towards the exit. The Captain followed suit, stopping briefly to give some hushed instructions to another guard nearest to the door before he disappeared up the stairs.

With their direct superior gone, Edmund felt the eyes of the remaining guards immediately fall on him. As much as he wanted to let his chest drop back and slump his shoulders to regain a little comfort, he knew he must keep standing with his back rigid and his head held high. In his heart, he may have been nothing more than Edmund, a man in much deeper and much more frightened than he cared to admit. In the eyes of everyone else, however, he was still the King and would be expected to handle the current situation as such.

Sighing, he turned to the guard standing watch by the leftmost cell and cleared his throat to get the young man’s attention. The guard jumped slightly at the noise, as though Edmund had just woken him from a half sleep. It seemed an odd place to try and nap, by Edmund’s standards, but he supposed one could sleep anywhere once you were used to it.

“Your majesty?”

The guard’s voice betrayed his age, and it was all Edmund could do to keep his eyebrows from shooting up towards his hairline. If he managed to get through this without ending up in the infirmary or worse, then he’d have to have a word with the Captain about the youthfulness of his recruits.

“The keys around your belt, young sir. Give them to me, if you please.”

Despite his few years, the guard knew well enough how to take orders. Without protest, he unclipped the ring of keys from his belt loop and handed them to Edmund. They were heavier than Edmund expected, and somehow the weight of the metal in his palm was strangely reassuring.

Squaring his shoulders, he turned once more to face the rightmost cell. There hadn’t been a sound from you this entire time, and Edmund wasn’t certain if this meant you were subdued or simply lying in wait to ambush the next person stupid enough to try and approach. He only hoped that, no matter what happened, he’d be able to greet the dawn with all his extremities still attached.

You hated this country. You hated its people, it’s stinking cobblestone streets covered in horseshit, its passionless music and the bland, disgusting mush it tried to pass off as food. Most of all, you hated its idiot King and the stupid way he was looking at you.

You’d made it clear, or so you thought, that the next Narnian fool who came near you did so at the risk of his own well-being. And yet, here sat the King, no more than a foot or so away from you, hunched over on a simple wood stool and studying you like you were some sort of oddity in a menagerie. You glared back, wanting nothing more than to wrench free of your bindings and claw at his eyes so the last thing he’d ever see was the rage on your face. But those thrice damned guards had tied you up so tight you scarce had room to breathe. Not only was this a country of fools, but cowards as well, it seemed.

“I’m going to take this gag off your mouth now, and then we’re going to have a little chat, you and I.”

His words were a command, but the way he said it implied a question, as though you would give him an answer even if you could. It was all you could do not to roll your eyes. Even those with absolute power were spineless here, issuing their commands as though they required permission for them to be followed. If such a man tried to rule in Telmar, they’d be knocked on their arse and trampled by someone more capable who’d take their place in the blink of an eye.

When the King reached to remove the gag, your eyes immediately locked on his hands. You watched them with a frevored sort of intensity, preparing to use all the agility dipping into pockets and running cup and ball scams had taught you in your years on the street. As soon as you felt the knot around the back of your head loosen, you struck.

Your teeth closed around the flesh of the King’s wrist, and you clamped down hard on his forearm so he could not wrench free without causing further damage. You were rewarded with a yelp, a loud clear sound that reminded you of a pup being kicked. The taste of blood, thick and coppery, filled your mouth but you held fast despite your stomach twisting in disgust. It was only when the King brought his fist down sharply on the crown of your head and made white stars dance across your vision that you finally released him.

He staggered backwards, clutching your gag to his wounded arm and staring at you with wide eyes that betrayed a different sort of wound inside him. You wanted to laugh, but the bile in your mouth turned any sort of noise into a half choked gurgle. Clearing your throat, you turned your head to the side and spat onto the stone floor. The King’s blood turned the grey flagstone a pretty shade of pink.

“You vicious little bitch”

Surprise, fresh and delightful, tingled down your spine. Now that was unexpected. When you betrayed the King’s trust, at the least you figured he’d draw back and sulk like the Narnian dog he was. Instead, he was paying you back with the same coin, striking at you with his words as you had struck him just now. Perhaps there was more lion in him than you thought.

“Why would you do that?”

The commanding tone he’d lacked earlier had finally appeared. Despite the fact that he was dishevelled, bleeding and standing as far away from you as he could in these cramped quarters, this young man was actually starting to resemble someone you could recognize as a King. The fact that you’d managed to goad him into such a state so quickly pleased you immensely, and you couldn’t help but grin widely back at him.

“Because I hate you” you replied, almost cheerfully.

“Yeah, I gathered as much” he shot back, royal courtesy completely forgotten “But I’m only trying to help.”

“Well, I didn’t ask for it, and you’re a stranger who’s touching me without my say while I’m in a vulnerable position. Anyone else would have done the same.”

What the King said next made your shit eating grin falter slightly in place. Narnians had always confused you, but it seemed this one was playing a different game entirely.

“You’re…you’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that without your consent. Are you feeling alright? How’s your head? I’m sorry I struck you.”

You stared at him as though he had sprouted wings and a tail. You were the one who had bitten him, hard enough that he was bleeding through the strip of fabric he was clutching to his arm. He must be hurting terribly, and yet he was asking after your welfare, and apologizing no less.

“I’m…fine.” you said, flatly, keeping your eyes trained away from his face “I’ve…you didn’t hit me that hard.”

“The fact that I hit you at all is unforgivable. May I have a closer look? If you’re injured, you really should be seen to by someone.”

You nodded, forcing your expression into a stern mask so as not to betray your confusion. This sort of treatment was completely alien to you, in your world kindness was for those who didn't have to worry about having crusts of bread snatched from their open mouths. It was a luxury only afforded to royalty and their ilk, like spices and fresh fruit.

When the King came to approach you again, he did so with slow, measured steps. At first, you thought it was because he was trying to avoid jostling his arm around. But, as you watched his lithe frame move through the ring of golden light from the torch he’d brought in earlier, realization hit.

He was frightened. Of you.

Immediately, your heart shot into your throat and your stomach dropped into the bowels of the Earth. You swallowed, hard, and turned your face away, pretending as though you were fascinated by the flickering shadows on the far wall. They danced like living things, their movements smooth and natural, and a part of you wished you could somehow join them.

You wanted nothing more than to slip your bonds and melt away into the shadows, but it was the stone in your gut you wished to escape, not the chains about your wrists. On the Talmoren streets, feelings were another luxury that you had little use for. Guilt was as new to you as kindness, and right away you misliked the acrid taste it brought into your mouth. In your twenty five years on the Talmoren streets, you’d stolen, lied, and cheated all in the name of survival. Those sins weighed no more on your heart than a raindrop would on the ocean. You’d done far worse to better men, and yet this Narnian wretch who you’d known for maybe an hour or more had your mind twisting itself in knots. Why?

The sound of the stool scraping against the stone floor drew you from your thoughts. You watched as the King righted his stool from the floor, and set it down across from you, though closer than it had been. He sat upon it with a deep sigh, and began to wrap his wounded arm with the linen gag.

The closeness allowed you a better look at the injury, which had already started to mottle purple and red with bruises around the edge. It made for a stark contrast against the King’s creamy, pale skin. An angry red flower on a field of snow.

You’d seen many similar hurts in your lifetime, some which you’d caused while others had been inflicted on you. Almost always, they resulted in a scar, the phantom outline of teeth remaining long after the open sores had closed up.

“You’ll need an apothecary for that, and a potion of honey and turmeric.” you blurted suddenly.

The King looked up at you, not even bothering to hide his startled expression. Something about the way his brown eyes widened and his lips formed a sort of rosebud shape was oddly endearing.

“Turmeric? I’m afraid I’m not familiar.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. This was a country of idiots, after all.

“It’s a root, from a plant. Usually it’s sold in a powder, but fresh is best. Turmeric draws any illness from a wound, while the honey helps it stick and will keep your skin from scarring. I have a sachet of it in my bag, provided your guards haven’t taken it for themselves.”

The King nodded in response. If your jab at his guards upset him, he didn’t show it.

“Thank you. That’s very kind. I’ll make sure we retrieve that for you, and I may want to have you speak with Lucy about this herb and it’s uses. I’m sure she’ll find the information very helpful in treating that young man you attacked.”

“Who is Lucy?”

“One of my sisters, the younger one actually. I have two, you’d know them as the Queens. There’s also Susan, she’s older than both of us.”

You turned this information over in your mind, silently comparing it with the little Narnian history you knew. Prior to now, the only King here you’d known about was the one they called Peter. His face was familiar to you, simply because it was stamped on one side of the copper coins you’d stolen from drunken sailors in the dockside taverns. Nobody in Telmar had ever spoken about any other Narnian royalty, though a healthy hatred of Peter was as common as dirt.

“So…who does that make you?”

The young King seemed to find this funny, letting out a wry chuckle before he finished tying the knot in the bandage around his arm. He did so quite skilfully, you noticed, and you wondered how much practice he’d had patching up himself or his men on the battlefield. Most of the Telmarine emperors could not boast of such skills. Matters of the body and healing it were considered beneath them, and tasks of those nature were left exclusively to apothecaries and sorcerers. Perhaps less soldiers would die fighting if their leaders took the time to help them.

“I’m Edmund,” the King said, his voice oddly gentle “What’s your name?”

You told him, and he repeated it a couple times, as though he was trying to taste the sound of it on his tongue.

“It’s very pretty,” he said, finally “Now that we’ve been properly introduced, will you allow me to have a closer look at your face?”

You nodded, knowing that if you opened your mouth you’d most likely say something vicious again. Of course he could have a look, it wasn’t as though you had a lot of choice in the matter being tied down as you were.

Edmund’s fingers were soft, softer than the hands of any man you’d ever known, though you could feel some callouses on spots where his sword hilt would chafe the skin. He probed your face cautiously, going across your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose with the practiced touch of someone who had done this many times before. For the most part, his expression remained neutral as he focused on the task at hand, but you did notice his eyes narrow slightly when he came across your split bottom lip.

If he had asked about it, you would’ve quickly implicated the guard you’d bit. Though he’d had a boyish and seemingly innocent face, he’d struck you hard enough to knock your teeth together when you’d spewed a string of curses at him during your arrest. The ones directed at his mother seemed to sting in particular, but he’d quickly lost his bravado after you’d torn his ear off when he tried to slap a pair of irons on you. It had taken three other grown men to subdue you, which was hardly a fair fight even if you’d fought like a hellion. Your chest still ached terribly from where they’d pinned you down by sitting on you, and you knew you’d sport a fresh crop of bruises in the morning

Eventually, Edmund moved his hands from your face and pushed them into the curls at your temples. He went slowly, not wanting to miss even the slightest bump or cut. After a short moment or two, he’d worked his way up to the crown of your head where he’d struck you earlier on. As his fingers brushed over a sore spot, you winced in spite of yourself, which made Edmund draw back as though he’d been burnt.

“I’m sorry. You’re certainly going to have a fair sized bump there tomorrow. It shouldn’t be too serious, but I’d like to have Lucy take a look anyway, just to be safe. I shouldn’t have struck you so hard.”

You shrugged, the chains about your arms clanking as you did.

“I bit you. I suppose we could call that even.”

Edmund smiled and something long dormant in your chest fluttered. You cast your gaze downwards, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t notice the burning in your cheeks. That was when your eyes alighted on something peeking out from the edge of Edmund’s collar.

“What is it?”

He may not have caught onto your blush, but he certainly didn’t miss where your eyes had gone. You really shouldn’t have been as surprised by this as you were. Narnians were known for their skills with swords, and the ability to be observant would have been part of that training.

“You have a…there’s something on your chest.”

Edmund blinked at you in surprise, and glanced down at himself.

“Oh. My mark. Here, let me show you.”

You watched with interest as his fingers opened the line of buttons down the front of his shirt. Each one revealed another inch of clean, white skin dusted with freckles and a healthy amount of fine, brown hair. You squirmed slightly in your seat, your cheeks feeling like an inferno.

At first, you’d thought what you’d spotted was a tattoo. Only now, that you could see it in full, unobstructed view and highlighted by the nearby torch did you realize you were wrong.

What decorated Edmund’s chest was by no means a tattoo. Rather than the black or brown ink you were used to seeing, the image was outlined in a shimmering gold. Though you had never took a needle to your own skin, you had a feeling even the most skilled of artists would not have been able to recreate such a rich colour. The way it sat on Edmund’s flesh was as natural as his freckles, as though he’d been born with it.

“And the purpose of this?”

Your voice echoed around the dungeon, which had somehow grown silent save for the sound of Edmund’s breathing and the faint crackle of the torches. From the look on Edmund’s face, you had a feeling you’d asked something incredibly unusual, which only served to confuse you further. Was this a Narnian custom? The longer you looked at the mark, the more it bothered you. There was something about it that tugged at your memory, like an itch you couldn’t quite reach.

“It’s my soul mark,” Edmund said slowly, as he began to button up his shirt again “Everyone has one. Even the centaurs and ogres and merfolk. You get one when you turn eighteen. Eventually, you’re meant to meet someone who has a mark identical to yours and that person is your soulmate.”

You shivered slightly, suddenly feeling as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head. This wasn’t a story you knew, but it felt as though you had heard if before anyway, like the echoes of a dream after you’d just woken up.

Your birthday had never been a celebration back home, not truly, but you’d been luckier than most to know the actual day upon which it fell. Usually the most you’d ever done when it came around was vow to live long enough to see your next one, though around seven years ago, something very unexpected had happened.

“I…Edmund…I think I have-”

The sound of his name on your perfect, full lips made Edmund feel lightheaded. There was a slight accent to your Narnian, which caused your voice to lilt in a way that was almost melodic. He was so entranced that he nearly missed what you were saying.

“You have a mark?” Like mine?”

You nodded, solemnly and bit your lip before speaking.

“It just…appeared one day. Around my eighteenth birthday, like you said. No one else in Telmar had one and I could never figure out what made me so different. When nothing else came of it, I forgot about the whole thing.”

So the guards had been telling the truth. Edmund brought a hand up to his forehead and massaged the crease that had appeared between his brows. He’d long since become accustomed to the idea that he’d be alone for the rest of his days. To have that changed so suddenly, especially by someone as complicated and unpredictable as you, he didn’t know what to make of it.

“May I see it?”

Some part of his mind still thought that maybe, this could be a trick. He’d open your shirt and find that the guards had talked you into letting them draw a donkey or something even more obscene on your skin for a bit of coin. But if that was the case, why had you attacked them? It seemed like an awful lot of trouble for a bit of sport.

“If you’d like.”

Now, it was Edmund’s turn to blush. You’d given your consent, and yet he couldn’t help but feel a little bit perverse as he reached to undo the top button of your collar. When you didn’t flinch away or try to bite him again, he continued, his hands shaking all the while. Your skin was warm beneath his touch, and softer than anything Edmund ever felt. Each opened button revealed another inch of smooth, bronze tinged flesh, along with a cream coloured shift and the tops of a pair of fair sized breasts.

The sight of those almost had Edmund running back upstairs to the safety of his room, when his eyes alighted on the tell tale golden lines just below your collarbone. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he reached out and gently tugged down the edge of your shift to get a closer look. He silently prayed that none of the guards took this moment to walk in, especially not the captain. He’d have a hell of a time finding a good reason to explain why he was practically peering down your shirt. It suddenly dawned on him why you may have given that young guard such a hard time, and any sympathy he’d had for the lad was pushed away by disgust.

“Aslan’s teeth.” he breathed

Sure enough, there it was. A lion, standing on its hind legs, mouth open in a snarl and a pair of crossed swords over its head. A perfect twin to Edmund’s, in size, colour, and location.

“Batshit and buggery,” he said again, parroting a favourite phrase of Peter’s.

You blinked at Edmund, trying to understand where this was coming from. He was staring at you as though every secret of the known universe had been writ there on your skin, and perhaps for him, it was.

“So, what does this mean?” you asked, hating how stupid you sounded.

“It means,” Edmund said, rising to his feet and reaching to tug at the knots that bound the ropes around your body “You and I are going to have a lot to talk about.”

#easter askbox event #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund pevensie x you #edmund pevensie imagines

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