#so instead of fucking grilling me with comments he only said that I should take into consideration some of the previous comments made

[dropssofjupitter]

Of Pride and Promises - P. 2

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader 

Summary: It has been a mere three weeks since your breakup with Draco Malfoy. Though your feelings haven’t changed, circumstances have. 

Word Count: 2.1 k 

Warnings: Angst-ish(?), swearing, sectumsempra, fist-fights, blood (minor?), aftermath of a breakup 

Requested? - Yes

Masterlist          Part One

A/N: For the lovely nonnie that requested it! I hope you like it! (I’m not exactly happy with it but hey, something is something!) [This work has not been beta read. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone] 

Edit:  I would also like to announce that I am looking for one, possibly two, beta readers! If you are interested please let me know!

Loving Draco Malfoy was like wading through quicksand. The more you resisted, the stronger the pull. Until eventually, you were pulled under. 

That’s what it had been like for you. That’s what it had felt like. You were suffocated and sedated until you couldn’t think straight, until you couldn’t see straight. Your hands were no longer your own, your magic was merely an extension of his. Everything that you owned, was his to use. 

Until you broke free. And then suddenly you could breathe. You felt lighter, you felt happier. You felt like you were more. But every time you saw him in the halls, every time you passed him in the Great hall, every time you so much as glanced in his direction, an intense wave of hurt and pain swept through you. 

And Draco only seemed to be getting worse. Dark circles clung to his eyes like forgotten friends, his cheeks had sunken in, and his skin was a brand new shade of waxy white. He looked sickly, often reminding you of the Victorian children that haunted the paintings in the Slytherin common room. You were no fool. You knew that although the breakup may have been hard on him, it was nowhere near the severity of whatever threatened him now. 

“Merlin, is that Katie Bell?” Pansy whispered to you, her chin propped up on her hands as she shamelessly stared at the girl who had just entered the Great Hall. “She looks like shite,” she said with a laugh, dragging her gaze back towards you. 

“Yeah Pans,” you replied, stabbing your fork into one of the many potatoes that lay on your plate. “Being cursed will do that to you.” 

The girl groaned, paying no mind to your snarky comment as she sat back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest. “And there goes Saint Potter, probably trying to be first in line to the pity parade and get all the sympathy points.” 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, chancing a look over your shoulder at the scene unraveling in the middle of the Hall. You had to hand it to Pansy, she had nailed Katie’s description perfectly. The girl looked almost as haggard as Draco did. 

You watched uninterested as Harry no doubt grilled the poor girl about the happenings of her curse, your hand perched under your chin. You were about to turn back to your food and to Pansy, who had not stopped talking to you apparently, when your eyes caught on Draco’s form. 

He seemed frozen in place at the entrance to the Hall, unmoving as he looked at Harry and Katie in what appeared to be mute horror. He locked eyes with Potter and turned around, quickly making his way out of the Hall and down an unknown corridor. Harry soon followed him, and it was pure instinct that drove you to stand up from the table and follow after the two boys, much to Pansy’s dismay. Something else was happening here, and whether it had to do with Draco’s distance before your break up or not, you were going to find out just what the hell it was. 

Chasing after Harry, you frantically tried to match his pace, running into students and Professors alike as you turned corners and skidded down hallways. It was a miracle that you hadn’t run into a wall yet, truly. You watched as he disappeared from view, ducking into the usually haunted girls bathroom. With a frown etched into your face and nary a thought to the consequences, you followed him. 

Curses being flung across the bathroom at lightning speed met you on the other side of the door, and you had to duck almost immediately to avoid being hit. You lay flat on the ground, mumbling things like “What the bloody hell could have set them off in three minutes?!” as you fumbled for your wand with one hand and protected your head from shattered stalls with the other. 

You crawled forward as soon as your wand was in your grasp, dragging yourself through the wrecked toilet stalls and avoiding most of the spells being hurled across the room as you prepared yourself to intervene. You moved into a crouch, murmuring a quick shielding charm before walking through the door half torn off its hinges and into the middle of their duel. 

“Wands down -” You were barely able to get a sentence out before you had to dodge a curse sent by Potter himself, drawing your arms into your body as you heard him yell “Sectumsempra!”

Draco was flung across the room, his body hitting the floor with a dull thud. Both you and Harry looked over at him, pausing your actions as you realized that he wasn’t moving. “Draco?” you called out anxiously, taking a step closer to him. That was when you saw the blood blooming on his shirt and bleeding into the water. “Merlin,” you muttered to yourself, wasting no time in rushing over to his body, hands shaking as you tried to remember the proper healing spells. 

“What the hell did you do to him, Potter?!” you yelled, looking over at Harry quickly before looking back at Draco. Dozens of cuts had opened up on his body, continuously bleeding and showing absolutely no signs of stopping. “Shit shit shit shit.” You hated to admit it but you still loved him. You still loved how it had been when you were with him. And you were so, so scared that you would lose him like this. So suddenly. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, Professor Snape appeared out of nowhere, quickly rushing to Draco’s side and sending a long, slow look at Harry. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you said, rushed as you stared down at Draco. “They won’t stop bleeding. He won’t wake up.” The professor placed a seemingly comforting hand on your shoulder before wordlessly beginning to move his wand over Draco’s body, murmuring a spell underneath his breath so quietly that you couldn’t catch what he was saying. You didn’t care. The blood that had previously been pouring out of Draco’s body was returning to it, and the wounds were sealing. 

Footsteps sounded behind you, and you realized that Harry was running away. You shouldn’t chase after him. Not when you were no longer with Draco. And certainly not with a Professor standing right next to you. But all rational thought had left your mind, and all you could think about was making Harry pay. So you stood, and you ran. 

If you thought that Harry was fast before, he was even quicker now, running as if he knew he was being pursued. And maybe he did. But that just made it more satisfying for you as you ran him down, slowly but surely beginning to catch up with him until you hit him with a stunning hex and sent him careening to the ground. 

“What the fuck was that Potter! What, do you preach the absence of curses until it’s convenient for you like a fucking hypocrite?”

Students and staff alike were turning to watch the exchange, gathering nearer as they sensed a fight. It was likely that you didn’t have much time before you were stopped so you decided to make it count. The stinging hex was wearing off by now, you knew it would be. So you kicked his wand away before pocketing yours. If they wanted a fight they would get one. 

Harry turned to look at you, quickly standing up and getting to his feet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The way he turned up his nose and squared his shoulders told you that he was trying to appear confident. The sweat on his brow and the shiftiness of his eyes also told you that he was epically failing. 

“Is that really how you want to play this Potter?” you asked, danger creeping into your voice as you squared off with the boy wonder. 

“Well it’s how your boyfriend wanted to play when he threw a hex at me,” he retorted, taking a step closer to you in a challenge. 

You barely had time to think before you were punching the Chosen One. Punching him poorly, might you add. You were pretty sure that you heard a faint crack from your thumb. But the blood that had begun to spurt from his nose made your minor injury all worth it. 

Harry cried out, falling back and to the floor as he immediately held one hand up to his nose. He looked at you in surprise, and it only took a few short seconds before a teacher was calling out your name and dragging you up towards Dumbledore’s office. 

You passed Snape on the way up, making eye contact as you noted the unconscious Draco in his arms. You nodded once, more towards yourself than towards him, before turning your gaze back to the professor currently lecturing you on the do’s and don'ts of fights at school. You tuned them out and every interaction after. 

~~~~~~~

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity that the tables had been turned on you. Yet again. Instead of you waiting in the dark to confront Draco, he had waited for you. You had known he was there as soon as you had closed the portrait, your eyes catching on his barely illuminated form as he sat in front of the fireplace. 

“I suppose I should ask you why you aren’t asleep yet.” You threw his words back in his face as you walked over to the couches, deciding to not even try and avoid him. Your arms were crossed protectively in front of your chest, a poor attempt to try and prevent what was probably about to come. 

Draco raised his hands under his chin, propping it up in a habit that he had learned from you long ago. “Why were you there,” he asked slowly, still not turning his head to look at you. It annoyed you, but you would let him have this for now. 

“I was tired of being lied to.” It was the truth, and that was more than he deserved. 

He clenched his jaw and turned to face you, his eyes narrowed. “You could have died. Didn’t you stop to think about that at all?” 

You sat down in the arm chair to his left, arms and now legs crossed in defiance. “I didn’t think that I would be barging in on a duel. It’s not my fault that you and Potter couldn’t keep it in your pants.” 

“This isn’t a joke!” His voice echoed across the common room and you froze. His gaze was level with yours, eyes glaring at you and hands clenched into fists. “You could have died!” 

“You could have too!” 

“That’s different!” 

“How? How is it different Draco.” At some point you had stood up again, a finger pointed in his face in your anger. The sheer familiarity of the situation was hitting. The two of you had been in these kinds of arguments many times before. “See this self-sacrificing bullshit is why we broke up. Because you couldn’t realize that your life was worth just as much as mine!” 

“No, we broke up because you got scared,” he retorted, standing up and matching your stance. “You got scared that I was actually being self-sufficient for once and you couldn’t handle not being in control!” 

You knew he was deflecting. You knew that the two of you were both lashing out, emotions high from the day that you had, but still you recoiled slightly. “Is that really what you think?” 

He just stared at you, stubborn ignorance formed in every fraction of his being. 

You swallowed thickly, straightening your clothes and taking a step back from him. “Alright then. Gad we cleared that up.” You turned around and took but two steps before you moved to face him again. “And for the record? I was scared. But I was scared that you were recklessly risking your own life because you couldn’t handle even the slightest threat to mine. Not because I wasn’t in control.” You paused, clenching your jaw as you searched his face for any type of reaction. There was none. “I guess today just proved that breaking up had been the right thing to do. Goodnight Malfoy.” 

You didn’t stop walking until you made it to your room with the door closed securely behind you. Letting out a breath, you allowed your body to sag against the door. You weren’t even sure if you could call that conversation closure. It felt more like another couples spat if you were honest, but you had meant your words. 

From now on, you didn’t care what Draco did. You didn’t care if he was sneaking around at odd hours of the night, or looking positively zombie-like. He wasn’t your problem anymore, so you were going to stop making him one. You were done with him. For good. 

.

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Taglist: 

@hydrasbitches   @tayyymeek​   

Add yourself to my taglist

#Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x reader #professor snape #Pansy Parkinson #katie bell #angst #jupe writes

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 09 first part

(Masterpost) (More Canary Funsies)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

This episode features so many eternal minutes of zombie shambling that I thought I could fit everything into a single post. HA HA HA HA nope. 

Zombie Temple

The trio do their best to fend off the not-zombies in the temple. Lan Wangji tells Wei Wuxian that he can’t go carving them up because they’re not actually dead, and drops a callback to their very first meeting at the gate of Cloud Recesses, when Wei Wuxian caught his attention with his pillowy lips comment on the not-dead cultivator. 

Lan Wangji: You said it in that golden moment that will be seared into my memory for eternity, where I heard your voice and laid eyes on your angelic face and lost my heart forever, remember? Come on, babe, it was our very first zombie! How baked were you?

Wei Wuxian: I jerk off to the sword-fighting memory, not the zombie memory, you weirdo.

Nie Huaisang’s fear of the definitely not undead has apparently gotten him the rest of the way over his fear of Lan Wangji, because he’s now yelling “Lan-Xiong!” right along with “Wei-Xiong!” as he struggles. Note that although he later mentions that his fan is made of some fancy metal, we don’t see any evidence that he wants to fight with a fan any more than he does with a blade. I don’t hate anyone’s fan-fighting NHS headcanon, but my take is that he just isn’t a physical fighter, and that’s ok. 

This is a good time to remember that our entire experience of the Nie clan so far in this story is 1. Clever but hopelessly combat-unready tiny artiste Nie Huaisang 2. Quietly helpful, absurdly pretty sidekick Meng Yao. 

We don’t know yet that Nie Huasang’s gege and Meng Yao’s sugar daddy is literally the toughest motherfucker in the entire cultivation world. But his friends do! Which makes me love these dynamics even more, because not one of them criticizes Nie Huaisang for being the person he is. 

(more after the cut!)

Never Let Me Go

This scene is where Wei Wuxian gives his tacit consent to being used as the eventual agent of Nie Huaisang’s vengeance....ok not really.

But he does make it clear what Nie Huaisang should do when he’s in a pickle. And NHS doesn’t forget things.

Priorities 

Meanwhile, Lan Wangji isn’t nearly as patient as Wei Wuxian, and he drops a silence spell on Nie Huaisang basically out of annoyance. It’s not like they’re trying to be sneaky. 

Lan Wangji: How about you have an exquisitely crafted ceramic cup of shut the fuck up?

Flute Girl

Wen Qing comes to the rescue by summoning all of the not-zombies, who happen to be her extended family, to come toast some marshmallows. 

She’s another person who unwisely demonstrates, where Wei Wuxian can hear her, the power of flutes over zombies. 

This move doesn’t seem to do anything important but it looks cool. 

Brother Dynamic: Bad. Really Bad. 

Jiang Cheng shows up in the temple and trolls everyone, because this is a great time for childish antics. Wei Wuxian is super happy to see him and runs over to hug him, which earns him a shoulder slam. 

This is a regular part of their body language with each other. Wei Wuxian covers his hurt reaction very, very quickly, with a smile that doesn’t involve very much of his face. 

Ow

Wei Wuxian is so good at pretending his feelings aren’t hurt, he probably convinces himself. 

Then he gives a too-honest answer when Jiang Cheng accuses him of...daring to enjoy himself, basically.

That’s more truth than Jiang Cheng was looking for, and he raises a hand to Wei Wuxian, who hides behind Nie Huaisang. This move is interesting because on one level it’s just clowning; obviously Nie Huaisang can’t protect WWX from anything, and WWX doesn’t need protection from Jiang Cheng. 

WWX can easily beat JC in a fight, as he’s let us know before. On another level, this retreat signals WWX’s harmlessness, his childlike-ness, in a semiotic dance that has been playing out for over a decade between the brothers.  NHS is taking on Jiang Yanli’s role in the choreography, this time.   

All of this troubling hostility doesn’t make Jiang Cheng a bad person. He’s young and he’s still under his parents’ control and subject to their abuse at home. It takes time to develop mindfulness about this stuff and learn to treat people beneath you differently than the way you are treated. 

Jiang Cheng isn’t ready for that yet, any more than he is ready to say out loud that he cares about his brother. 

Leave My Boyfriend Out of It

This interaction is noteworthy for Wei Wuxian defending Lan Wangji to his brother, before Jiang Cheng even has a chance to blame Lan Wangji. 

Wei Wuxian says that following Lan Wangji was his own idea, and then gives LWJ the sweetest, warmest smile.

Lan Wangji also gets a pair of totally unearned, delighted smiles of thanks from his two besties when he lifts the silence spell on Nie Huaisang. 

Being mildly dickish all the time works out fine, I guess, if you only make friends with people whose brothers are legendary grouches.

Grilling Wen Qing

Wei Wuxian finally decides he’s had enough of Wen Qing’s crap, and gets slightly aggressive in questioning her.

He’s not actually roughing her up but he is approaching her as a near-enemy for the first time, rather than as someone who wants to be her friend. Once Wen Qing tells him what’s up and agrees to a sort of temporary alliance, he goes back to being his normal slightly awkward self with her. 

I don’t romance-ship WQ and WWX, except maybe as corpse-mountain era FWB, but I do like their chemistry. And their friendship is really refreshing and interesting, based on sharing goals and working together, not on emotional intimacy. It’s nice to see people with a lot of barriers around their hearts, building a strong, trusting bond without having to actually open up very much.

The idea of perfect sharing between people is a nice one, but it’s pretty alien to many of us who are recovering from trauma, or people who just aren’t wired that way, and it’s good to see other models of friendship and love. 

Wei Wuxian, at Lan Wangji’s direction, parts the Red Sea drops a cage on the other 3 cultivators before going to hunt the dire birdy.  

Jiang Chang is, predictably, pissed off about it, in spite of Wei Wuxian’s “you’re good at this” parting words, and says, according to the subtitles, “you bastard!”

“Bastard” is a pretty specific epithet, in English. In the current century, it’s generally used to mean “asshole,” more or less. But it still does carry the meaning “of illegitimate birth,” and since The Untamed is often concerned with legitimacy it seems pretty strong for JC to use with someone who is rumored to be his own Dad’s by-blow. 

Let’s have a look and see what he really is calling him... 你混蛋 =  Nǐ húndàn = “you bastard” per Google translate. Wow, Jiang Cheng, you really went there, huh. 

Wen Granny

Wen Qing and the others in the golden cage watch as the not-zombies try half-heartedly to get to them. Wen Qing is super sad about it, as opposed to the two guys who are just annoyed (Jiang Cheng) or scared (Nie Huaisang).

The first time I saw this, it was just - oh, Wen Qing sympathizes with this poor random woman, she feels bad about what's happening, this is to show us she has a heart.

Now though --  that's HER granny. Maybe not her bio-grandma but clearly a granny of her clan, who she knows well, who later cares for A-Yuan when he's a child, so may very well have cared for A-Qing and A-Ning when they were small, too. Owie.

Dire Bird Hunting

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian run off to hunt the smoke bird together. They are quickly trapped in cool-looking fog. Kudos to the Director of Photography.

They spend some time being confused and also being peak Wangxian 1.0 as they help each other out. 

Lost in the fog and unable to summon talismans, Wei Wuxian is mainly about checking on Lan Wangji, making sure he’s ok, making sure he’s near.  He doesn’t spare any worry for himself.

(We get a rare instance of seeing an actually glowing sword here, instead of just having a character say “I saw the beams of swords!” to save money on VFX.)

Lan Wangji, meanwhile, understands the mental attack they are under, explains it to Wei Wuxian with only a little snark about Wei Wuxian’s overly busy mind, and teaches him how to handle it.

Lan Wangji is super disciplined in mind, body, and sword - his fight moves don’t change, really, throughout his life, but he gets better and better at execution. Wei Wuxian isn’t exactly undisciplined, but he’s super creative and busts out a new skill in nearly every encounter. Lan Wangji sees this and is learning to make use of it.

After Lan Wangji helps Wei Wuxian overcome the confusion that is blocking his talisman use, he tells him which talisman to use. 

This isn’t a talisman that LWJ uses himself, it’s just that he’s paying very close attention to WWX’s battle moves, and has a great memory, so he knows which ones will work. In a pretty short timespan he’s moved from thinking like a solo swordsman to thinking as part of a team with a broad range of battle skills. Very soon, he’ll be starting to use Wei Wuxian’s talismans himself. 

WWX takes a hit from the flying death chain, but uses it to his advantage, as in so many encounters. He’s not just self-sacrificing--he is definitely that--but he’s also a chess player, knowing how to use a sacrifice or an injury to his advantage. Cue Lan Wangji being worried for the entire rest of his life.

Part Two is here!

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #wangxian #chen qing ling #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #wen qing

[kbuggg3]

Kian Lawley Imagine: “Jealous Much?”

IMAGINE: The fun beach day suddenly gets more interesting when Kian catches a guy flirting with you

Everyone in the 02l house was running around like crazy trying to get together all the stuff they'll need for their beach trip.

"(y/n), didn't you say you were grabbing the towels?"

"Got em! Kian, you got all the snacks?"

"Wait... What? I thought Corey was getting them?"

"Can someone get the sunscreen?"

"Ya. I got it!"

"Hey Seb, grab some waters and a few beers."

"WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE SNACKS!?"

After everyone got what they needed and loaded it into the two separate cars, they were finally off to the boating dock. (y/n) drove her jeep with Kian, her boyfriend, in the passenger seat and Harrison, JC, and Chelsea in the back seat. Corey drove the truck so he could attach the boat to the back. Sebastian was in the front seat next to him and Bobby, Anderson, Franny and Dom were squished together in the back.

After a few minutes of passing the AUX cord and jamming out they all finally arrived to the boating dock. When (y/n) parked her jeep, she rested her head on the steering wheel while everyone got out and got the stuff out of the trunk. "You okay, baby?" she heard a sweet voice say next to her ear.

Already knowing who it is, (y/n) put on a pouty face and looked up with her best puppy dog eyes. "I'm fine. It's just that we got up sooo earlyyyy." Kian frowned and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over it softly.

"I'm sorry. Is there anyway I can help you wake up?"(y/n) smirked slightly and leaned close to his face. "You could kiss me," she shrugged, biting her lip. Kian's eyes flickered down to her lips and he leaned down and kissed her softly.

(y/n) wrapped her arms around Kian's neck, hoping for the kiss to last longer, but Kian almost immediately pulled away causing (y/n) to pout again. "Heyyyy! I wasn't done." Kian chuckled at her reaction and replied. "Well as much as I enjoy doing that, I kinda had another idea in mind."

The moment (y/n) saw the smirk on his face and the evil look in his eyes, she knew he was up to no good. Before she could protest, Kian pulled her out of the jeep and threw her over his shoulder. "Kian! Put me down!" she laughed while lightly hitting his back.

"Not until you wake up."

"What are you even-" (y/n) paused mid sentence when she realized what he was going to do. "Kian, I swear to god if you throw me in the water I'm breaking up with you!" she joked. Kian just smiled even wider, knowing his plan was working, and walked into the water until he was knee deep.

He slid (y/n) down until she was eye level with him, her arms around his neck and her legs now wrapped tightly around his waist as she tried to avoid getting wet at all costs. "Alright baby! You ready?" he asked placing his hands on her ass to keep her from sliding down. "No, Kian!"

"1..."

"I swear if you actually-"

"2..."

"KIAN!"

"3!"

He pretended to swing her forward, acting as if he was going to throw her in but he never actually let go. Instead he laughed until his stomach hurt, earning a punch in the arm from his girlfriend. "I hate you," she said unwrapping her arms from his neck so she can cross them in front of her.

"Well I LoOoOoVe you!" Kian kissed her on the nose causing her to smile and unwrap her legs so she could stand on her own. "Hey, lovebirds, the boats ready to go!" Kian grabbed (y/n)'s hand and they walked to the dock that the boat was parked at.

After helping (y/n) in, he hopped in the boat and sat in the passenger side beside JC, who was going to be driving, and (y/n) went to the front of the boat with Seb, Anderson, Harrison, and Bobby. Franny, Chelsea, Corey, and Dom sat in the back of the boat next to the cooler of snacks and beers "in case they disappear", as they liked to put it.

                                                                            ~~~~

They rode around on the boat and went tubing for a little bit before eventually arriving at the island. They swam in the water, drank, hooked (y/n)'s phone up to the speaker to play music, took pictures for Instagram, and tanned. They stayed at the island for hours on end having a good time and acting like the rowdy teenagers that they were.

After awhile they began to grow hungry, seeing as all their snacks were gone. "I'm starving. Let's go get food," JC said looking over at his friends from under his umbrella.

"I agree. Do you guys remember the Sunset Grill? With the shrimp?"

"Oh my god! The shrimp!"

"We should go there."

"I'm down."

After taking a majority vote, they all packed up their towels, chairs, and umbrellas and got onto the boat. They got into their original seats and Bobby connected (y/n)'s phone to the built in speakers onto the boat. When they arrived at the restaurant they quickly put on some clothes over their bathing suits and were met by a tall, tan boy around their age who greeted them with a pearly white smile.

"Hey guys! My name is Caleb and I will be your waiter for today." Caleb helped tie the boat to the dock and waited patiently as everyone got out. (y/n) was the last one left, but paused as she noticed the boat, although tied to the dock, was getting too far away for her to reach.

"Hey, um, Kian? Can I get some help?" she laughed awkwardly. Kian was too busy talking to JC, Harrison, and Anderson and couldn't here her calling his name. Fortunate for her, Caleb heard the girls plea for help and was quick to be approach her.

He looked at her with his bright blue eyes and brushed the blonde hair out of his face. "Need a hand?" he asked extending his hand out to her. (y/n) gratefully took it with a smile and he helped her step out of the boat and onto the dock safely.

"I'm Caleb," he smiled warmly at her. "(y/n)." Caleb nodded his head before turning to the rest of the group.

"How many in your party?"

"11."

"Awesome! Right this way."

Caleb grabbed some menus and glanced at (y/n) quickly before walking off to show them their table. This act surely did not go unnoticed by Kian.  As they were walking, Kian made his way over to (y/n) putting a protective arm over her shoulders.

They sat down, ordered their drinks, and talked for a little while until Caleb came back asking what they wanted to eat. "I'll just have a cheeseburger," (y/n) stated closing her menu and handing it to the naturally tan boy. "That's my favorite," he smiled as he wrote down her order along with everybody else's.

Kian's eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened slightly. He looked at JC to see his eyes wide and his lips in a small smile as he tried not to laugh at Kian's reaction. "I'll be sure to have your food out ASAP!"

Caleb looked at (y/n) one last time and with a nod of his head, he left. Kian leaned over to the table and whisper shouted at JC.

"What the hell was that? Did you see that?"

"What?"

"You know what!"

JC awkwardly shifted his eye contact from Kian, to (y/n), then back to Kian again. Kian just sighed and rolled his eyes."oH My gOd i LoVe cHeEsBuRgErS! We'Re, LiKe, ToTaLlY iN LoVe!" J

C attempted to stifle a laugh as Kian mocked their waiter in a high pitched voice.

"Dude, he's probably just being friendly. It's kind of his job."

"No. It is not his job! His job is to take our orders and bring us food. His job is NOT to flirt with MY girlfriend!"

Every time he would go to their table to check up on them, he would have a nice conversation with the table and even crack some jokes. Everyone thought he was a pretty cool guy. Everyone except Kian, of course.

Eventually their stomachs were full and it was time to leave. JC, Bobby, and Harrison stayed at the table to wait for their card to be brought back after paying and everyone else went over to the dock next to their boat. When everyone was listening to Dom tell some story about a time he got super drunk, Kian saw Caleb watching and slipped his hand in the back pocket of (y/n)'s jean shorts.

(y/n) bit her lip to hold back a smile and scooted closer to Kian. "What was that for?" Kian furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her. "What do you mean? I can't love my girlfriend?" (y/n) just shrugged with a knowing smile on her face and went back to listening to Dom's story.

Kian looked over towards the restaurant and once again saw Caleb staring. He clenched his jaw and looked away. He had to do something about this. He couldn't just let this random guy drool over his girlfriend!

Kian took his hand out of her pocket, grabbed her arm lightly, and turned (y/n) around to where she was facing him. (y/n) looked up at him with a smirk. "What is it this time?"Kian pulled on her shirt, bringer her closer to him, making the distance between them small.

He leaned down towards her ear and spoke quietly, "Caleb hasn't stopped staring at you since we came here on that damn boat and quiet frankly I'm not a fan of it." (y/n) giggled slightly at the boy. When she looked over towards the restaurant, she indeed saw their waiter staring at her. When they made eye contact he awkwardly smiled and pretended to be sorting menus.

"So if you could kiss me that would be great." They pulled away only slightly and (y/n) smiled.

"You're crazy."

"Crazy about you," Kian winked. (y/n) rolled her eyes at his cheesy comment and the two leaned in, sharing a long kiss. The others in the group stared for a little bit, but then remembered that randomly making out was kinda normal for them, so they went back to what they were doing.

After a few minutes of hanging out in the dock, JC, Bobby, and Harrison received their credit card and loaded everybody back onto the boat. (y/n) got into the boat and tried to make her way to the front with Sebastian, Anderson, Harrison and Bobby. Kian was quick to stop her by hooking a finger on the back of her bathing suit bottoms saying "C'mere baby" as he pulled her back towards him.

She giggled while walking back towards him and watched as Kians hands made their way to tightly grip her waist. He guided her hips as she sat down on his lap and wrapped his arms loosely around her torso, putting his head in the crook of her neck. "Yes?" She questioned.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see you." Kian smiled at his own comment just as JC slipped out his phone, taking a perfect picture of the couple and connecting his phone to Bluetooth. "How bout a little B Marley, huh?" Although not opposed to the idea, (y/n) rolled her eyes at the nickname.

After a minute of searching through Spotify, JC finally found the song he wanted. (y/n) waited and listened for the song and instantly smiled when "Is This Love?" By Bob Marley began to play loudly.

I want to love you, and treat you right. I want to love you, everyday and every night

(y/n) took a deep breath in, smelling the salty air and feeling the wind on her face as the boat glided quickly over the waves.

We'll be together, with a roof right over our heads

Kian held (y/n)'s hand that was resting in her lap and rubbed his thumb up and down soothingly.

We'll share the shelter, of my single bed. We'll share the same room

Everyone stares at the beautiful view in front of them in awe, the sky acting as a canvas with pink and orange colors lighting up the sky.

Is this love? Is this love? Is this love? Is this love that I'm feeling?

Is this love? Is this love? Is this love? Is this love that I'm feeling?

(y/n) heard Kian singing along to the words and she bit her lip to try and hold back a smile. She always loved hearing him sing. Even if it was just singing along to the radio in the funniest voice possible just to make her laugh. She, along with many many others, thought his voice was amazing, but Kian usually only let her hear it.

(y/n) closed her eyes and laid her head back onto his shoulder making Kian look at her. He knew why she was smiling. (y/n) tells him all the time how much she loves his voice, especially when he sings. Because of that, Kian leaned his forehead on her temple as sang softly in her ear so she could hear him better.

As he sang she smiled even more and cuddled into him. When they made eye contact, Kian's eyes would flicker down to (y/n)'s lips as she ran her fingers through his hair.Kian leaned in, capturing his lips into hers as they shared a passionate kiss. "I love you," Kian whispered as they pulled apart. "I love you too."

"Can we just talk about the fact that Kian was soooo jealous when that little waiter kept flirting with (y/n)?" JC said making everyone laugh.

"Oh my God, Kian. You looked sooooo mad!" Franny laughed, almost falling out of her seat with Bobby making another comment.

"He still looks angry!" Kian glared at Bobby and yelled jokingly, "I'm not fucking angry!" Everyone just laughed even harder and (y/n) laid her head on Kian's chest, making him look at her and calm down. "It's ok babyyyy," (y/n) cooed trying to hold back her giggles, making Kian kiss her face all over. "Do you think I'm jealous?" (y/n) looked at his pouting face and giggled. She grabbed his cheeks and gave a him a long kiss on the lips. When she pulled away to where there noses were touching, she whispered,

"Totally."

I freaking LOVE Kian and JC so if you don't watch them you 100% should. They’re legit so funny. Anywho, hope you liked it.

                                                            -Kbug

#kian #kian x reader #kian lawley #knj #kian and jc #you already know what's up

[thedemonstherapist]

Tension Solution

Summary: “I think this tension between us needs resolving. Be that with swords against each other’s necks or in my bed. You decide”. 

Wordcount: ~4,2K

Pairing: Kaeya Alberich x GN! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual innuendos, Small mentions of blood

Author’s Note: Here it is! My Kaeya enemies to fuckers piece. A huge thank you to @gnocchi-ghoul​ for Beta reading this for me! I had such fun writing this, and you all know I’m a sucker for some good tensioned sworfighting, and this smug bastard has been on my mind ever since starting to play the game. I know this is not my usual content, but I write when I want, about who I want, ok? I’ve had so little inspiration over the past months that I’ve got to take chances like these and go with them.

Banner is not mine! If you know who to credit it to, let me know, I couldn’t find it!

There he came again. That stupid coin between his fingers, flung into the air at random intervals. That stupid grin softening his face, cheerful greetings echoing through the noisy hall. Oh, and above all, that tremendously stupid way his eyes find you immediately, just trying to do your work.

You lower your gaze, pressing your pen down onto paper with renewed determination. Jean and her new open doors policy be damned, you couldn’t wait to slam it in his face. Of course it’s the last few minutes of visiting hours that he decides to come back from his commission. Three blissful weeks of calm while he was stationed out near the Liyue border, no comments, no irksome remarks, no-

“Don’t tell me you’re too busy to greet me”. 

You sigh. Kaeya observes you with his arms crossed, casually lent against the doorframe. His sword is still strapped to his back, droplets of water running down the blade, and he clearly hasn’t gone to take a shower yet, covered in dirt, mud and sporadic dried blood. 

“Captain”. You can’t help your displeasured tone. “I see you’re back”. 

“Inspector”. He raises a brow in retaliation. “I sent a notice stating my return three days ago”. 

“Oh, that”. You pick the unintelligible letter from your desk with two fingers, holding it at an arm’s length. “Apparently your messenger didn't go for a swim on the way here. Could you confirm?”

His jaw tightens momentarily, as you note with satisfaction, but it doesn’t deter the grin. “You should be used to my handwriting by now”. 

You place it back on your desk with contempt. “I am not. Hopefully your report to Jean is a little more… readable”. 

He shrugs, beginning to peel off his gloves. “She’s never complained about it”. 

Taking a deep breath, you try to calm yourself down. Kaeya tends to make you irrationally angry, and no, it wasn’t just the absolute nonchalante recklessness he treated his position and commissions with. You couldn’t count the times he’d risked more than his own life in battle, somehow always managing to pull it off in the last second. And of course, that was his surefire way to getting out of trouble, no matter how much Jean grilled him for it afterwards.

“Go clean up”. You try your best to make your dismissal abundant, leaning back over your work. “You’re dripping water on my carpet”. 

“Oh, we’re touchy today, aren’t we?” Kaeya’s grin widens into a smirk, pushing himself off the frame. “Did Fawks hit on you during your patrols again?” 

“That’s none of your business”. You shoot him a glare, tapping your nails impatiently. As if you still had the opportunity to go out on patrols, you’d been holed up in your office pretty much ever since becoming Inspector. You wished you could get out again, your body had been aching for some action for weeks, but he was the last person you’d ever confess that to.

Kaeya hums lightly, and instead of exiting, takes another step into the office. His eyes wandered your shelves with staged disinterest, but you knew he was looking for something to use as ammunition.

“I’m assuming you couldn’t hear me” you state, sarcasm adding a bite to your tone. “I told you to clean up. You look like you haven’t seen soap since leaving Mondstadt”. 

“Oh, Y/N, always so worried about my appearance” he muses, drawing closer to your desk. God, you hated that stupid cat-like expression he bore, so sly and pretentious. “I’d be more worried about yourself, frankly”. 

“I’m not playing these games, Kaeya”, you reply sharply, fingers tightening around your pen. “Go take a damn shower, and stop ruining my carpet. I don’t know why your immediate goal seems to piss me off, but I’d like to maintain some level of professional dignity between us”. 

He rolls his eyes. “By Barbatos, you really are wound up today. I doubt that’s just my fault”. 

“Be delusional, then”. You shake your head. “I don’t think Jean would appreciate another formal complaint, so do her the favour, if not for me, and get out of my office”. 

“Fine”. He turns around, but not before throwing you another glance, and damn it, you know he has one last trick up his sleeve, just by the way he says it. “However, before I forget-”. 

“What?”

“You’re pre-reading my report for Jean. Her orders”. 

---

“... and that bastard didn't even take the time to brief me about the mission outcome, the entire time he was dirtying up my office!” You end your rant with an angry flourish, slamming your hand down on the table. “I don’t know what he intended with that whole interaction, he just likes making my day so much worse!” 

Your friend chuckles, stirring her drink idly, an ocean of calm in comparison to your raging fury. “Man, if we weren’t close, I would never guess Kaeya to be such a pain in the ass. Each time I’ve encountered him he’s been so chivalrous and kind”. 

“He just can’t keep it in his pants”. You cross your arms, sitting back in your chair with a huff. “If you ever end up in his bed, I will personally hunt him down”. 

She laughs. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t put you in that position”. 

“I just don’t understand it”. You run a hand through your hair, glancing around the tavern. It was unusually crowded for a Thursday night, you’d been lucky to get your usual table. “Why he has this stupid grudge against me. We used to be normal colleagues, back when we were both only trainee’s and officers, but then one day the switch flipped and it’s like we can’t stand the sight of each other ever since. The worst thing is, he has every last person in Mondstadt wrapped around his finger! So nobody understands my frustration!”

“First of all, Diluc exists. Second of all, aren’t you higher ranking than him?” she asks, and you regretfully shake your head. 

“No, Captains and Inspectors are on the same level. I personally didn't feel ready to be a leader in combat situations, so I passed on the opportunity. Now I miss active commissions so much, my poor sword is nothing more than an ancient relic at this point”. 

“Surely, you’ll still be sent out?” 

“I don’t have a command, the only times I might be are on extraordinarily dangerous or sizable sightings, or for assistance to Captains. Rue the day I get sent out with Kaeya”. You shudder at the thought. “That would end in total disaster”. 

“So you really have no idea why Kaeya began to dislike you so suddenly?” your friend inquires, tilting her head aside. You shake yours. “And there wasn’t some kind of incident that caused this?” 

“Not that I know of”.

A grin spreads over her face. “Hey, you ever considered that he likes you a little too much for his own good?” 

“That’s some misogynistic bullshit”, you snort. “Guys are rude to people because they like them, yeah right. That’s just trying to normalise shitty behaviour in the name of quote-on-quote love”. 

“I know that”. She gives you an exasperated look. “But… you have to admit that the two of you have some serious chemistry”. 

“What are you even talking about?” you question, downing the rest of your drink. 

“Every time you two interact”. She raises a brow knowingly. “Remember that time you were bickering on patrol through Mondstadt? I swear, even without a vision, I could see sparks between the two of you, and I wasn’t the only one, you got the entire town talking. You get on each other’s nerves because you have some unresolved tension you need to work out, and neither of you wants to admit it”. 

“Shut up”. Your cheeks suddenly feel suspiciously warm, and you firmly decide it’s the alcohol. “Fine, Kaeya’s attractive, but he’s so fucking annoying because he knows that. He messes with me ‘cause he knows how to get in my head, and gets some kind of sadistic pleasure from it”. 

Your friend makes an attempt to interrupt you, but you don’t let her, motioning to her to let you rant. “Let me finish. He was nice enough up until he got that damn ego boost after being promoted, I think, and even then I could still talk to him without the need to stab myself in the eye. He’s just so frustrating, never thinks twice about anything he does, and always gets away with it, plus he has this weird urge to always show off that stupidly toned chest of his and - by the Seven, I hate that idiot smirk of his, and the fact that he’s so damn perfect at his swordsmanship, I can’t even deny how good he is in battle, Jean has said he rivals her, and I despise that he knows he looks good while doing it, he-”

“So, how much longer were you going to let them just talk?” A voice offhandedly asks from behind you, and the blood in your veins turns to ice. Your friend smiles lazily, winking at you. 

“Oh, you know, however long they need. Y/N’s been ranting quite a bit this evening, you really get on their nerves”. 

You whip around, and sure enough, there he is, the cause of this mess. Kaeya has his arms folded, grinning down at you with thinly veiled satisfaction. You’re pretty sure half of the tavern is watching, and your blood turns from freezing to seething within seconds. 

“How long have you been there?” you ask stiffly, glaring at your friend. She pulls an innocent face, leaning back in her seat with performative disinterest. Traitor. 

“Just long enough to hear what I needed to”. Kaeya’s grin is threatening to split his face in half. “You really think I’m that attractive, huh? I never would have guessed”. 

You jump up from your chair, spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Fight me”. 

He actually laughs, a few of the tavern occupants joining in. “What? Are you sure you’re not mixing up a couple words there?”

You clench your jaw, deciding to just go with it. “Fight me. Knights of Favonius training ring, tomorrow morning. I’m sick of your attitude”. 

“Oh?” He cocks a brow at you. “I hope you’re ready after wasting away in that office of yours”. 

“I could beat you blindfolded”, you reply presumptuously, mimicking his stance, unable to ignore the fact that he smells a little too good for your tipsy state. At least he finally took your orders. You hold his stare regardless, unwilling to give in.

“Thank the Seven, you’re working this out at last”, your friend sighs, sipping at her drink. “And here I thought you’d take the sexual tension to the grave”. 

Kaeya’s lip twitches in amusement as he extends one hand. “Tomorrow morning at seven. I’ll try not to kill you then, for that sake alone”.

You give him a dirty look, reluctantly shaking his hand. “Your chance of me doing the same is decreasing with every word that leaves your mouth”. 

“I can live with that”. He suddenly leans closer, and before you can pull away, whispers in your ear, sultry tone leaving the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “You’re going down, darling”. 

Like Hell you are.

---

The training hall is usually relatively empty at this time of day. Some dedicated trainee’s use the morning to get their routine over, but otherwise, not many knights exercise this early. And though at least a few of them must have heard of what happened last night, not many are to be seen. Even if you could live with an audience, you decide this way is perfectly fine, especially in case of the (distinctly undesirable and should-be-impossible outcome) of you losing to him. You’re a bit out of breath from warming up, fixing your shirt before making your way over to the ring.

Kaeya is waiting for you there, clad in athleisure and in the midst of testing out a beginner’s sword. His vision is nowhere to be seen, and you curse him a little for not giving you something more to berate him for. Nevertheless, you straighten up as you approach.

“Good morning”, you greet him nonchalantly, walking over to inspect the racks of weapons. 

A grin flashes across his face as he turns around, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Hello, darling”.

“Sweating already?” You raise a brow at him, deciding to ignore the nickname. “And here I thought I’d have a challenge”. 

Kaeya laughs, rolling out his wrist. “You are cute when you’re acting tough”. Tilting his head aside, he watches you take your pick of one of the swords. The morning light bathes him in a soft glow, falling through the high windows, hair tied up in a messy bun at the back of his head, and- wait. Your cheeks grow hot as you realise what absurd directions your thoughts are heading to. Your friend must have gotten under your skin more than you realised last night. 

Shaking your head a little, you roll your shoulders back and face him head-on. “Whatever makes you feel better. For the rules, as by training code, drawing blood is an immediate end”. 

“No visions, no hits near the head or vital organs, dull blades and stop means stop”, Kaeya counts up calmly, making his way to the center of the ring. His blue eye gleams playfully in the light, and he swings the sword near aimlessly while walking. You grit your teeth at his relaxed manner. He wasn’t taking this seriously at all, huh?

“Don’t worry, Inspector”. He winks as he comes to a halt before you, maintaining the mandated arm’s distance. “I know the rules”. 

“I’d hope so”, you reply, getting into position and watching him do the same. You decide to stir the pot a little, knowing it’s best to get into his head, and feign a smile. “I can’t wait until the rest of the knights hear about how royally I kicked your ass”. 

He laughs lowly, and is immediately on the attack. Anticipating such, after years of observing him in battle, you parry it easily, ducking aside to avoid the next one. You wait until he’s nearly backed you into the corner, ego visibly growing with every move he makes, and take a rolling dive, knocking his legs out from under him with your own. 

He manages to catch himself, and you’re relieved by the split-second of surprise in his expression. You withdraw towards the middle, blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face and, in a rush of adrenalin, smirk at him. “Not so confident now, are we, Captain?”

“You’re not as out of shape as I anticipated”, he counters, slashing his sword through the air as he repositions himself. Brows narrowing playfully, he adds: “It’ll make it more fun to thoroughly take you apart”. 

You don’t give him more time to prepare. Blades crash onto each other as he masterfully deflects your attacks, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get out of breath. Neither of you can land a hit, no matter how feasible it seems. He handles the comparatively bulky sword with enviable ease, and you grow frustrated quickly, unable to break through his defences. In turn, you don’t let him back you into any corner, constantly keeping the playing field level and returning every new strike with your own.

“You know what, I’ve missed this”, Kaeya pants, quick to switch hands as you sidestep him, attempting to land a hit on his blinde side. 

“Huh?” is all you can answer in return, deflecting his counter aimed at your back, and darting aside. 

“Training”. He nearly misses the parry, forced to back up if not to risk a blow to his abdomen. “With you”. He shoots you a brash smile, easily twisting out of your range.

You huff, irritated at the fact that he still has the mind to flirt. “Your silver tongue isn’t getting you out of this one”. 

“I meant it”. And of damn course, his tactic worked, the point of his blade sinking into your shoulder. “Remember when we used to practise together?” 

“Before you became a dick, you mean?” you shoot back, attempting an aggressive strike at his lower thigh. Your body is getting sore, heart pounding against your ribcage, breaths coming out short and strained, but despite it all, you’re enjoying this. In any case, you’d rather die than admit to him that you’re having fun. 

You really needed to get out of your office more.

Kaeya laughs, equally exhausted, before advancing at an alarming speed. “I’ll give you that one, darling”. 

Your blades cross, metal clashing loudly, and you can see an opportunity form as he shortly weakens his hold. Rotating your sword in the opposite direction to try and hook beneath his, you’re so distracted by the possibility of disarming him that you don’t notice the satisfaction that washes over his expression as you do. One swift swipe of his foot and you’re falling backwards, weapon nearly ripped from your hand. 

Your back hits the mat with full force, air knocked out of your lungs, causing you to give a strangled gasp. Kaeya is smirking down at you, but he’s as out of breath as you are and there’s sweat soaking his shoulders. You don’t think before you move, so infuriated by the words you know are about to leave his mouth, fingers tightening around the handle. 

The hit against his shins sends him to the ground, but not sideways as planned, instead straight onto you. You don’t have the time or the mind to roll out of the way, and he tries very hard to catch himself, hands landing on either side of you. You yelp as most of his weight hits you, momentarily forgetting what’s even happening. 

 “Fuck”, Kaeya groans, arms shaking as he tries to brace himself. “You like playing dirty, don’t you?” 

Slowly regaining the ability to breathe after nearly being crushed, your eyes dart to see him dangling over you, legs and lower body resting on your own. If anyone hears of this out of context, you’re moving to the other end of Teyvat. He’s panting, no doubt as shocked as you are, strands of his hair tickling your nose. His face is mere inches away from yours, heat seeping through his clothes onto your skin. 

Decidedly too close.

Your blade kissing his throat is a much better sight. You know you’re technically breaking the rules, but the way his eye widens, corners of his mouth twitching and brows raising to the sky is just too good of a picture. 

“Get off me”. You growl, trying to steady yourself with your other hand. 

His laugh sounds astounded, but contrary to your demand, he does not. Instead, his chin juts forward, pressing the metal into his skin for earnest. There’s no blood, of course, all these swords are dulled to near uselessness, but it does leave you speechless at the amount of reckless pride he seems to possess. 

 Kaeya hums, clearly satisfied at your reaction. “I’ll be honest, this is not how I initially pictured you under me”. 

What a smug son of a-

“Oh, fuck off”. Your knee makes contact with his stomach and he rolls off you with a grunt. You scramble to your feet, grimacing at what you're sure will be a bruised tailbone later. He’s already composed himself, twirling his sword idly as you get a proper grip on your own. Looking you up and down, his grin widens into a smirk.

“Though you do look similar to the imaginary aftermath”. 

“I am going to kill you”, you hiss, red flashing before your eyes as you charge at him. Kaeya begins to laugh once more, but it quickly dies down as your moves become more and more aggressive, driving him out of the ring and towards the wall. The thought of whoever may be around again crosses your mind, but honestly, you can’t care about who may be watching, every last bit of strength you have left is focused on Kaeya and his stupid fucking face and the way he evades your strikes with a precision that only leaves to be desired to every onlooker. It makes you want to actually scream. You finally land two hits on him, arms beginning to shake from exhaustion and overwhelming adrenalin. 

But once more, Kaeya catches you off guard. The switch flips just as his leg hits the wall and you’re just beginning to notice your own smile, sure of your victory. His expression darkens, lip caught in his teeth as his eyes narrow down at you. 

Your blades clash as they did before, and of course he uses your own move against you, managing to perfect it. Your sword goes flying to the ground, and the moment you lose your grip is the moment you’re being slammed against the wall that he was nearly backed up against mere seconds ago. The tip of his sword is digging into the soft skin of your throat, positioned perfectly above your Adam's apple. 

Suddenly, it goes very quiet, the silence only interrupted by your laboured breaths. Maybe it’s the fact that he near literally has a knife to your throat, but you can’t tear your eyes away from him. His hand is pressing on your shoulder, pinning you to the wall, keeping you in place. His leg is slotted between yours, barring you from moving an inch. 

For the first time since you’ve met him, you have nothing to do but to admire him. Sweat is making his hair stick to his skin, an exhausted flush upon his dark cheeks. His body is visibly tense, stare boring into yours with a kind of intensity you’ve only ever seen during active combat. There’s nothing unintentional about the way he’s restraining you, nothing hesitant about the placement of the blade against your skin. His chest is heaving, teeth digging into his lip in constrained effort, fingers digging into your shoulder as if expecting you to fight back.

You don’t. 

Instead, you let out a shaky breath. The adrenalin is still surging through you, but you can’t feel the constant urge to punch him in the gut anymore. Huh. Weird. 

“You won”. Your voice is calmer than it ever has been talking to him, accepting of your defeat. Plus, your body is beginning to realise that whatever just happened hurt, and quite a bit at that. You wince, knowing you’re going to need some ice to get through the rest of the day. 

Kaeya shakes his head determinedly, stare not wavering. “You had me in practically the same position less than a minute ago. You could have flipped me over with ease and won. You didn't. That’s the only reason I got you here”. His grip on your shoulder eases up. “We’re equal”. 

Withdrawing the sword from your neck, he takes a step back, relinquishing his hold on you. You feel strangely dazed, automatically reaching to check for cuts on your neck. “I guess?”

“You okay?” He sounds relatively quiet as well, nearly uneasy, which does not fit the overconfident persona he usually bears. Whatever tension there was before has yielded to something more cautious, like strangers navigating their way across broken ice. 

You nod, reaching to pick up your sword. “Fine”. You pause briefly, debating your words before meeting his eye again. “That was… good exercise. Thanks for fighting me”. 

He laughs a little, and you’re taken aback by how much you don’t feel like reacting. What was going on? At the latest after that laugh you’d usually be back at his throat. 

“Sure”. There’s the typical amusement in his face, but his smile is less egregious and smug. It’s… kind? “I’d have no problem repeating it”. 

You raise your shoulders, unsure of what to do now. “I guess… I wouldn’t either?”

“Good”. He runs a hand through his hair in an effort to fix the mess it’s become. You’re beginning to hear the confidence you’re used to re-enter his words, but it doesn’t appear to bother you. “Friday’s at seven, then. We’ll make it a regular thing”.

“Trying to kill each other?” You surprise yourself with the attempt to ease the tension, and why in the world do you have the urge to smile at the sight of his?

“If that’s how you want to see it”. He shrugs, placing his sword back on the racks. Glancing over his shoulder, he regards you for a long moment. “I think your friend is right”. 

“In what regard?” you ask, in principle fully aware of what that expression means for you. 

Kaeya’s shit-eating grin has made its way back onto his face. “I think this tension needs resolving. Whatever means it takes”. 

You can hear the words in your head before he says them. 

“Be that with swords against each other’s necks or in my bed. You decide”.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanficion #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact kaeya #genshin kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich fanfic #kaeya fanfiction #hope you enjoyed <3

[thran-duils]

I Crave Annihilation (P.3)

Title: I Crave Annihilation (Part Three) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mafia!Dark Tony Stark. Tony works for the reader’s very influential politician father moving guns and drugs. She starts flirting with him and he is returning the vibes. She moves into her own place out of her parent’s house and texts him to come save her from a house party. Smut ensues. Words: 3,069 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, HUGE age difference, angst, violence, infidelity, possessive behavior

Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“He’s here,” your mother whispered in your ear as you rinsed the dishes from the counter.

You had gone immediately into the house instead of into the back yard, Gabriel following you inside. He had held out the food he had brought to her and she thanked him. The two of you got under her skin when you two got together at these things but she loved him deeply. He was one of your best friends still. He had walked off towards the liquor cabinet when your mum approached to whisper to you.

“I know,” you told her, not taking your eyes off the dishes.

“Have you seen him?”

“No. I came straight in here. Jackson went out there though. I’m sure Steve will be all too ready to point out to Tony who he is.”

Your mother looked at you worriedly, “Has Steve been bothering you?”

“No. I just know he’s keeping tabs.”

“’Keeping tabs’…” she muttered, shaking her head. “You cannot let him get back underneath your skin.”

“Mum, he’s always been under my skin. I feel I’ve just been trying to fill a void.” You noticed the way she was looking at you and you shrugged, “It’s why I don’t want to go out there. Because I’ll see him… And…”

She shook her head and said crossly, “I told you… I warned you.”

“Are you really going to blame me for feeling this way? You still ended up with dad.” She faltered and you said, “No, I put that together a long while ago. Dad is twelve years older than you!”

“That’s different.”

You reached forward and turned the water off, to stand up and face her fully. “That’s different? Then why did you bring it up that night when you found us?”

“He’s almost twenty years older than you!”

“And?”

“Don’t you love Jackson?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then why would you even entertain the idea?” she sounded exasperated.

“You and dad are more similar to me and him than you are giving me credit for.”

Your mum snapped, “No, I know that. You just have a chance with Jackson.”

“You seem perfectly fine,” you hissed back at her.

“Money softens the blow, Y/N. It doesn’t solve everything.”

“I’m sorry for you that you’ve been miserable for so long.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“You are sure sounding like it!”

“I just… Jackson is good. Jackson treats you like an equal! Yes, I’m happy with your father but I wish he would also treat me like I was his partner rather than just his wife. Jackson gives you that. Tony wouldn’t!”

You paused before asking, “Is that why you were gone all the time?”

“What?” she asked, giving you a shocked look.

“You were always gone. It was always just me and dad. Or me and the nanny.” She opened her mouth to say something but apparently she could not think of anything and she closed it again. You sighed, “It was always me and dad… you were always gone. On some trip. Just at a spa retreat. I never had you around until suddenly in my teens when you realized I had blossomed.”

“Because I had to protect you.” She sounded so self-righteous.

“And you did for years. From the sidelines. Since I was what, 14?” You straightened up seeing Gabriel was coming back from the other room and said quickly and quietly, “I’m going to steer clear of him as much as I can, mum. If that’s what you’re worried about. I do love Jackson.”

Gabriel said, “Mom, I found your favorite rum! Should we make daiquiris?”

Donning a perfect mask and pulling away from you, your mum said, “That sounds lovely, Gabriel.”

With a wink, Gabriel said, “That’s what I always try to be for you. You’re my favorite.”

“Suck up,” your mother teased, shooting another glance at you before walking away and following him to the blender. “There are strawberries in the fridge, love.”

<><><>

“Well, she’s here,” Steve said, before taking a long drag of his cigarette. “At least somewhere because Jacksons here.” He pointed in the general direction quick. Tony looked Jackson over and simpered. Steve smirked in return and said, “Yeah, that’s the competition.”

“He makes her happy though according to you which is pretty big competition,” Tony replied, bringing his own cigarette up to his lips and taking a long drag.

The two of them shut up as Bucky and Sam came back to the table. Bucky had been in prison with Tony as well as Thor and he had not had to confide to them about the relationship because Steve had been on the outside keeping an eye on Y/N for him. They fell back into conversation sans her for a while.

Then Y/N walked out with another guy. He drank her in slowly. She had aged, obviously. But she was still as gorgeous as ever. His eyes ran up her body, trailing over her short, high waisted shorts. He saw she was looking at him and she quickly looked away, turning her attention to the guy at her side again. Tony cocked his head, recognition coming on.

“Is that…” he said to Steve under his breath. Steve looked at Tony for an explanation and Tony said, “That guy from that bar. That one time.”

“Yep. Gabriel. They’ve been friends since college. You think Jackson is gonna be the problem to get her alone? No, it’s going to be Gabriel.” He stopped for a moment before chuckling and saying louder so Bucky and Sam could hear to not arouse suspicion about their whispering, “And Rebecca is already on them.”

“How do you mean?” Tony asked, watching Rebecca stop on a dime and turn back to stare them whispering between each other.

“They always get into trouble,” Steve explained. “One year, she asked Y/N to help her with the food and she was already too drunk to do it and she paid one of her friend’s to do it because her and Gabriel had already been day drinking. They took Molly another year. Gabriel fell off the table he was dancing on and rolled his ankle. Last year… they took some shrooms and disappeared for hours and Rebecca found them in the far back lying amongst the rocks, still high off their asses watching the stars.” He snorted seeing her point at the two of them threateningly. “Yet, she coddles the shit out of him and loves him to death. Look at them and their matching daiquiris.”

<><><>

He had sunglasses on but the way his head was pointed, you knew he was looking at you. Fuck. He had an undercut now, nice glasses, and his shirt unbuttoned, leaning back in the chair without a care. You made sure you did not linger too long on him before turning your eyes away. But you knew it had already been a couple seconds too long no matter how long it was because as soon as he had you in his sights, and he knew he had you, that was endgame.

Gabriel was there and tugged on your arm. He pulled you towards the covered area with the grills where your dad and Thor were cooking. He looked in his element, fresh out of prison and enjoying doing this again.

“I got some…” Gabriel caught your attention again. He gestured snorting and your eyebrows rose in response and he grinned. “When do you wanna?”

“I don’t know if we should though….” you said trailing off, shooting a quick look and finding Tony still watching you. You should be on your toes tonight… but maybe it would make it that much easier to just brush it off if something did happen…

“What? Come on! This is the perfect time! There’s a lot of people around and it’s not like—”

“What are you two whispering about?” your mum asked, startling the two of you. She saw you two jump too before looking at her and she leveled the two of you with a threatening glare. She was carrying a plate of cut vegetables in one hand, her drink in the other, obviously about to go put them out on one of the tables.

“Nothing, mum,” you and Gabriel said in unison.

“What?” you asked innocently when she was still silent after a couple moments.

“I don’t trust either of you. Not after last year.”

Right. The shrooms. And she had found the two of you lying between two of the rocks in the back part of the garden, giggling, half naked.

“I sincerely apologize for that. Still. Can I send you a third bouquet of orchids?” Gabriel said, giving her a curt bow, smiling sheepishly. He held up his drink at her in surrender.

Your mum’s mouth twitched ever so slightly, holding back a smile. She adored Gabriel but she did mean business. She did not want to babysit again this year. Her finger left her glass and she pointed between the two of you and said, “No funny business this year. Especially you, Y/N. Keep your head on straight.”

You held back a scowl at the comment. Gabriel looked confused for a moment and you said as she walked off, “She’s right. I should just stick to drinks.”

“Bitch, I—”

“I’ll do it with you next weekend, Promise! We should give her a break for one year.”

Gabriel groaned and took a long drink of his daiquiri. “Fine! I’ll go ask Jackson to share his bud. Buzzkill! Both of you!”

<><><>

In your old bedroom that you and Jackson were going to sleep in, you tore your shirt off and your swim suit top, tossing them carelessly on the bed. It was getting cold outside and you were ready to change into your pajamas and a sweatshirt. You heard the door open and close behind you as you reached for your pajama top. Without turning around, you said, “I thought you guys were going to stay in the hot tub for a little bit longer.”

“Your hair is different.”

Whipping around, holding your shirt up against your bare chest, you found Tony standing there, hands in his pockets. He was blocking your way to the door, looking confident as ever. Prison had only given him time to work out, as you could plainly see from his open shirt, and apparently had done nothing for his domineering personality. He was still bold as ever, showing up here in your room knowing you were changing when your husband was outside.

“Tony!” you hissed, mortified. “Get out!”

He smirked at your attempt to shield your nudeness from him. “I haven’t seen it in a very long time, but still, is there really any reason to be modest around me? I mean, I’ve been in every hole—”

“Shut up!” you told him furiously – embarrassed, really –, turning away from him, and throwing your shirt over your head. You heard him move and you turned back around quickly finding him closing the space between the two of you and you stood your ground. “You shouldn’t be in here!”

He cocked his head, his face scrunched in vexation. “So, you’ve only been teasing me all night?”

“’Teasing’? What are you going on about?” you said, trying to play dumb.

“Sweet pea, your sneaky glances and putting yourself in my line of sight did not go unnoticed. You’re not subtle, not to me. We played that game for years if you care to recall. Almost three to be exact. The only thing I regret is not going in for you sooner so we would’ve had more time together in the sack. I had a plethora of memories to dive into while I was incarcerated but shit, I would’ve enjoyed more.” He stepped closer and this time you did take a step back and you did not miss his fleeting amusement. He leaned in closer and said, “I know your games and your little tantalizing behaviors.”

The drunker you had gotten throughout the night, the more you found yourself slipping into your old ways. He was correct about that history between the two of you. That first night you had seen him when you were in the pool and since then, you had always tried to be in his sights and it had paid off for you. Tonight, you had found yourself drawn back, adjusting your swimsuit where you knew he could see and sitting in the chairs where he could keep his eye on you. It had been a conscious decision. You hated yourself for it, how much you craved him and his attention still. You were stuck between the life you currently were leading and being dragged back into your relationship with him. Stealing those glances to see if he was looking had only fueled the fire more because he had been watching you like a hawk. Every time you had looked his way, especially when it had gotten dark and his glasses had come off, you caught him always watching your movement. He had looked hungry, just like he looked now.

What your mother said came back to you then, remembering how Jackson treated you versus how she believed – and you knew deep down – Tony would. You hated you wanted Tony so badly and simultaneously craved the partnership you had with Jackson.

“I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea, but Tony, I’m married now,” you said, mustering more calm in your tone than you actually felt.

Tony looked tickled by that response and you gritted your teeth, knowing he was going to brush you off. And he did. “Yeah, I’m happy he was keeping you well and safe for me. You look amazing. I am beyond impressed.” He raised his hand, his hand ghosting down your side to grip at your waist. You tried to flinch away, but his other hand shot up and held you on your other side, preventing you from moving back. His thumbs caressed as he told you, “But you’re still mine, don’t act like you’ve forgotten.”

“You can’t just order me to divorce my husband!” you told him defensively.

“Who said anything about divorce so soon?” Tony chuckled. It was foreboding the way he said ‘so soon’. It was all too clear where he wanted this to go. “I was just starting out with the courteous approach of inserting myself into the situation. Letting it play out.”

God, you hated his ego but fuck if you were not responding in like. Still, you fought against it and tried to hide it. “’Courteous’. Cute, Tony.” You leaned in and said, “If you want tits and pussy, you can go on the Boulevard. It’s about twenty minutes away.”

You pushed his hands down away from you and started to turn away, to reach for your sweatshirt. But his grasp was tight on your arm, yanking you back roughly. You gasped as your noses brushed, before he let you go back a couple inches. You smelled the bourbon on his breath, something you used to relish in.

“I’m not fucking around, Y/N. You’re coming back to me,” he growled. He pulled away even more and looked at you disappointed. He shook his head slightly and said, “You didn’t even come visit.”

That cut deep, unexpected by you. He actually looked hurt.

“I couldn’t! You know I couldn’t leave the state without—”

His demeanor changed in the blink of an eye, again.

“No, this is where you zip it. Okay? The adult is talking,” Tony snapped, his fingers digging into your arm. He melted you right back down to the naïve girl you had been. “You’ve had your fun. Seven years of it actually while I was rotting away in a cell. I’m glad you got to make house and have good dick. And by glad, I mean I am monumentally fucking pissed off.” The words spit like venom. “I had to sit there day after day thinking about how you just threw it away, so easily. I was so disappointed in you, precious. How you could just leave me there like that, after all I did for you?”

Pitifully, you started, “Tony, you’re scaring—”

“Oh, don’t use that as an excuse! Don’t play victim! It’s not cute, Y/N. Stop wasting both our time. You know you want it as bad as I do. I get you feel guilty about your little husband but he was just a placeholder until I got back.” His eyes flashed and his hand left your arm, wrapping around your waist to hold you close. His eyes ran over your face and he leaned like he was going to kiss you and you blinked, watching him closely. He stopped himself at the last second though, running his tongue along his lips. His hand slipped down to your ass, cupping. “I want you around me so badly. So badly. I’ve dreamt about that cunt for years.” Your heart picked up pace. “I’ve dreamt about having you for so long, precious. Don’t deny me this. Not after everything I went through. Especially without you there for comfort.”

You were quiet, your lips parted in surprise, staring at him. His fingers flexed on your back after a few moments at your silence. His tone was firm when he told you, “You’re getting in that Uber with me. You understand me?”

An Uber? He was going to make you leave here?

“We can’t just leave. My mum—”

“Yeah, your mom is passed out. Or should be soon.”

“What? I--”

“She likes her daiquiris way too much and opioids.” Tony snorted and added with a laugh, “Giving you shit for having sex and she can’t even stay sober.” He got closer  again and said, “And your husband is way too high, he’s gonna pass out soon. I’m sure we can make a story up between now and whenever his ass wakes up. I have a lot of time to make up for, so the longer you stand in front of me like a fish gaping at me, the more time you wasted. I’m already ordering the ride as soon as I can take my hands off you.” He squeezed his hand once more on your ass before telling you, “What you craved in us you won’t find in him. If you did, you wouldn’t still be standing here.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @buttercandy16 @esistmon @flawra16

#tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #mob tony stark #dark marvel fic #dark marvel #my shit

[parvuls]

fic: kintsugi

summary: The day after brunch at Jerry's, Jack and Shitty have a raw, much-needed conversation over the phone. Some issues need to be addressed before they can head down the road to patching things up.

word count: 6k

tags: year 3, post-comic 3.12, phone calls, friendship, canon compliant, apologies, introspection

notes: based on the prompt ‘providence + family’ by @atlasthemayor.

read on ao3

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Jack’s stomach churns strangely when he sees Shitty’s name flash on his caller ID.

It’s a disconcerting feeling, a slight jolt and twinge in his gut, both reminiscent of when anxiety coils low inside him and distinctive in some way. It makes Jack frown and set his heated dinner aside on the coffee table with the hand not holding the buzzing phone. He’s not sure he ever had this foreign reaction to Shitty calling him before, so after a brief moment of puzzlement he decides to write it off as a side effect of the exhaustion weighing him down.

The phone vibrates once more in his palm before Jack slides his thumb across the screen to accept the call. “Hey, man,” he greets, balancing the phone between his cheek and shoulder so he can pick his food up again. Shitty won’t mind the sound of his chewing, probably. “Staying up late to study?”

It’s coming up to half past eleven on Saturday night. Jack dragged himself through the front door and into the dark apartment at around ten forty-five, his muscles sore and his body beat from over twenty minutes of ice time. He dumped his gear bag in the entryway next to his shoes and headed straight into the kitchen without flicking any of the lights on, shoved one of his frozen meal plan boxes of grilled chicken and brown rice into the microwave without pausing.

The yellow glow of the microwave was the sole source of light in the room as Jack strapped an ice pack to his shoulder, still aching from Ericsson’s high-stick, stuck Bitty’s handwritten PB&J note on the fridge, and waited. The only thing he really wanted to do was fall face-first into his bed, text Bitty that he was home, maybe break down the game over the phone if Bitty wasn’t too busy -- but his regimen had taken precedence. He knew he needed to put in some calories and take care of his pain if he wanted to get up for his six a.m. run. By the time his phone started ringing, Jack was mechanically chewing on his food in the living room. His couch was more comfortable than a dining chair, plush upholstery engulfing his tired limbs, and it only distantly occurred to him that there was something sad about eating dinner alone in the dark.

Shitty’s call, when it came, was unexpected.

“Hate to tell you this, but eleven thirty is not late," Shitty replies, the familiar timbre of his voice tinny due to cell reception. It's an effect Jack is closely acquainted with after months of daily phone calls with Bitty, so he knows that's not all there is to it when he notices something else amiss about Shitty’s voice; like the rhythm of his speech is slightly off. He registers it as abnormal, but before he can figure out if he wants to ask about it Shitty carries on talking. “How’s everything going for ya?”

“Okay,” Jack answers plainly, piling rice onto his fork. He doesn't have the energy to think of anything more gripping than the truth. “Eating post-game dinner.”

Shitty pauses on the other side of the line, makes the creases in Jack’s forehead deepen. Something feels weird, but Jack doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it if nothing is really wrong. Sometimes people act in ways that confuse him for any number of reasons, and he’s not always good at telling them apart.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” Shitty says, clearing his throat quietly. “The Red Wings. Great game, brah. Your shoulder doin’ okay?”

Jack’s mouth slows down his chewing on instinct, and he swallows the rice with difficulty. Shitty never just tells Jack great game. Shitty talks about hockey like he’s the narrator in a porn film, with an enthusiasm unmatched by anyone Jack has ever met. Shitty once sang Jack’s praises for half an hour after a game against UND in which Samwell lost 2-0. That, combined with his tone -- something isn’t quite right, Jack thinks. He's more confident in that observation now, but his brain feels slower than usual and he’s too tired to connect any dots.

“Euh, yeah. I’ll be alright. Really have to shake it off and make sure I’m all there on Monday night, eh? We’ve had a good streak, but it’s always about how we play the next game. We’re getting better as a group.”

Jack’s tongue slips into hockey speak naturally before he can do anything to stop it, but instead of chirp him, Shitty makes a vague, throaty noise and doesn’t comment. “Yeah, I get what you mean. You and Mashkov really seem to hit it off out there, heh. Uh, listen -- I know you had to drive back for your practice, but. We didn’t really get the chance to talk much yesterday, and I guess…” Shitty pauses again, and Jack lowers the box to rest against his knee, apprehensive. “Well. D’ya have a moment? Because I’d really fuckin’ like to apologize for some shit.”

Jack’s hand clenches convulsively around his fork, a piece of chicken breast sliding off the tines and falling back into the box with a dull noise.

The early morning and then noon hours of Friday were an emotional blur. From the anxiety spike when Jack stepped off the plane to the car ride on the flooded highway; from the sleep-deprived, tearful conversation in Bitty's narrow bed to the cathartic brunch at Jerry’s with their friends. Jack drove straight home after his nap and stepped out of the car back in Providence to find his phone overflowing with chirping text messages. The chirps haven’t really died down over the weekend, but Jack doesn’t mind them, and he doesn’t think Bitty does either; it feels good to have a subject that’s been burdening them both treated lightheartedly. Trusting their friends with this secret isn't as heavy on Jack's shoulder as he feared it might be.

Shitty is the only one who hasn’t written much in the group chat. He and Jack talked briefly on the lawn outside the Haus after the six of them had returned from brunch, and then they resorted to roughhousing when the mood got too somber. Jack hoped that it’d be enough to put everything behind them, but if he pushes himself to think it through, a part of him has known that this conversation was coming. It wasn’t like Shitty to let things go so easily.

Jack's glad that Shitty can't see his face right now, because he can feel himself grimacing. He hopes his brief silence hasn’t been too revealing. “Shits -- it’s cool, yeah? We’re cool.”

“I don’t think we are, actually,” Shitty argues. His voice is growing strained. “You don’t have to talk, even --”

“C’mon, man, there’s really not much to say. Everything is good now --”

“Jack,” Shitty cuts him off, and the tone of his voice shuts Jack right up. Shitty can get wrapped up in things, can lose himself in long tirades about rights and wrongs and justice, but this tone sounds different than it has through the hundreds of rants Jack has been witness to. Shitty sounds dead serious. Jack blinks, and realizes: this isn’t Shitty being his normal self. He’s genuinely torn up about this. “Just -- will ya let me…? Please.”

“I…” Jack starts, but he doesn’t really know what he wants to say. He’s never been skilled at these kinds of conversations, and the odd feeling he got when he saw Shitty’s name on his screen squeezes even tighter than before, making him feel slightly nauseated.

“It’s -- I --. Jack, what I said in front of everyone during the home opening kegster… and all the other times I... That was some fucked up shit. I fucked up real bad, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Jack tries again, but this time the words feel so wrong in his mouth that he has difficulty shaping his tongue around them. It tastes like an outright lie, although he wasn’t aware he was even lying at all.

Jack hadn’t recognized the churning in his gut until now, but Shitty’s steadfast apology intensifies the feeling and dredges up what Jack has clearly failed to notice. He wants to tell Shitty that there’s no need to apologize, but apparently that’s just not true; it’s only now that he realizes the sharp response he had to Shitty’s call is bitterness. Jack’s feelings actually were hurt by Shitty. Maybe he should be startled by discovering wounded feelings he wasn’t cognizant of for over a month, but if this past summer has taught Jack anything, it’s that sometimes he manages to overlook the most substantial of things.

“-- and it’s not enough to be chill about it now,” Jack blinks out of his thoughts and tunes back into Shitty’s distressed train of words, coming chopped and fast through the ear speaker. “I should’ve -- before, too, I should’ve created a safe enough fuckin’ environment --”

“You were always talking to us about creating safe environments, Shitty,” Jack interrupts him. His voice sounds hollow to his own ears, and he puts his fork in the box and the box back on the coffee table to free his hands. He’s still making sense of his own mental state, and he knows that whatever is going to come stumbling out of his mouth will be barely coherent at best. “It’s not -- it was just that -- you’re always saying it’s important, and then, câlice… It was hard enough, hiding, and then with you as well --.”

Everyone was allowed to be queer, for Shitty. Jack remembers how in sophomore year Shitty marched into the Haus, ecstatic about the five different people who had come out to him that same week, babbling about how great it was and how different Samwell was to Andover. He mentioned sexuality labels Jack had never even heard of, had accepted so effortlessly those borderline strangers who had trusted him with their identities. Shitty has always been the most open-minded person Jack knows, the one to talk endlessly about the inherent toxicity of heteronormativity and to lecture the team about never labeling others without their consent.

Jack’s not always good at pinpointing the root of his own feelings, but the moment he thinks of that thrilled look on Shitty’s face almost three years before, he knows, like a lightbulb going off, why he was hurt. Because it seemed like everyone was allowed to be queer, for Shitty -- except Jack. Like Jack wasn’t queer enough to warrant the same respectful treatment. Like he wasn’t really allowed to be queer at all. Jack had never felt particularly close to his sexuality, but when even Shitty assumed so assuredly that he couldn’t be anything but straight, it stung. He just hasn’t registered it until now.

There’s a split second of tense silence, and then Shitty says, “I didn’t even know you were having a hard time, brah,” the pace of his speech slowed down.

Jack’s eyebrows draw together. His right hand, absentmindedly, pinches the fabric of his suit pants and rubs the smooth texture between his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t -- what does that mean? It’s not like you asked.”

Shitty’s breath comes out in a harsh exhale, crackles in Jack’s ears. Jack can hear springs squeaking and sheets ruffling, the sounds of Shitty dropping heavily onto his bed. “Brah. How was I supposed to ask? You never pick up the damn phone anymore. Shit, man, I know fuck all about your life lately."

The fabric of Jack’s pants stretches in the tight grip of his fingers as he blinks, takes in Shitty’s accusation, and realizes he’s right all in the space of two and a half seconds. He can recall a few missed calls that he never got around to returning, but it didn’t seem so important at the time. He was, and still is, in the midst of his first NHL season, trying so hard not to get so lost in hockey and his own worries that he drowns in it and forgets to be a good boyfriend to Bitty.

It never occurred to him that he was investing so much effort into being a good boyfriend to Bitty that he wound up forgetting to be a good friend to everyone else. He knew Shitty and he weren’t talking as often, that things between them haven’t been great lately, but the truth is he had so many other things to worry about that he let it drift to the margins of his mind.

Jack lets go of his pants, rubs his palm down his thigh to smooth the creases away. His momentary bout of anger deserts him with the release of a slow, purposeful exhale. "You’re right. I’m sorry."

"No, no, shit,” Shitty says immediately, switching back from resigned to guilt-ridden in the matter of nanoseconds. “Don’t -- damn it, don’t apologize, oh shit, I’m victim blaming aren’t I, I totally didn’t mean to put this on you --"

"Shitty --"

There’s the sound of bed springs creaking again and then loud footsteps hitting a floor, which Jack assumes are the background sounds of Shitty rushing up from his bed to pace the length of his room. He’s seen Shitty do it across his small room in the Haus countless times, and it feels strange now, having it happen forty miles away. "It’s just, you know, I tried and you didn’t pick up and I get it, fuck do I get it, remember how in freshman year you forgot to talk to anyone for like a week during the preseason stress?"

Jack cracks a tiny, shaky smile that he knows won’t make it into his voice. His first few months at Samwell were a horrible time, fraught with loneliness and frequent panic attacks, too absorbed in thoughts of the path he was supposed to take to function in the path he ended up taking. His therapist helped with that, later, but before that there was Shitty. Determined to be Jack’s friend for no good reason at all. "Yeah. And you broke into my dorm room to make sure I wasn’t dead."

"So it wasn’t like I was offended you didn’t pick up or some bull,” Shitty hurries to finish, “I know you, I get it --"

But that’s wrong, Jack thinks, frowning deeply. Surely, Shitty must know that. "Shitty."

"What? No, seriously. It’s not the first time it happened, and with the pressure of playing in the league and all, I totally get it -- it’s just --"

"You’re allowed to be offended, Shits." Jack says quietly. His hand reaches up to curl around the phone and tug it away from the crook of his shoulder, but his muscles remain tense even when his shoulder drops down. His other hand is still fisted on top of his thigh and the purple shadows cast by the faint stars outside the windows heighten the grooves of his veins. "I know I -- I know it can get difficult -- with me --"

"No," Shitty interrupts, sounding even more emotional than before, a penitent snowball that keeps on rolling down the hill. Shitty’s capable of rolling on forever, if he thinks something is truly wrong. "No no no, Jack, I didn’t mean --"

"Shut up, Shitty." Jack says firmly. He preserves, reminding himself forcefully that the sentiment he wants to establish is too important to be derailed by Shitty’s atonement. His hands have begun to shake slightly, but he needs to get it out. "I know I’m worthy of love and friendship and all the crap you were about to say. I’m just saying --. You’re allowed to be hurt even if it isn’t new behavior. Just because I -- my anxiety -- y’know. If it hurts you, you’re allowed to be hurt."

The other side of the line goes quiet for a long moment, not even the sound of breathing coming through. Jack closes his eyes, counts to ten, tells himself that it’s Shitty and that the two of them are going to figure it out. Fighting with Shitty has always been mentally hard on Jack, has always felt like shaking the only foundation Jack had to stand on. It didn’t happen often, but Jack tries to remind himself that whenever it did they always came out intact on the other side. Arguing was a healthy way to understand your needs and the needs of the other person, his therapist told him.

When Shitty speaks, he sounds awed. "Christ on a cracker, man. That was fuckin’ wise. That Bits’ influence on you?"

Jack pauses to consider it seriously, taking time to recompose his brain. Being with Bitty -- it has taught him so much, about his own feelings and others' and how to put them into words, the importance of open communication. He told Shitty that the previous day after Jerry's -- feelings could easily not occur to him, even if he felt them very strongly. He coexisted with them without acknowledging their existence a lot of the time, and this phone call is only one example of it. Being with Bitty, having to be aware and give name and give value to his own feelings to make things work between them, has changed the way he interacted with his emotions. Made him understand himself better. He’s not at all sure he would’ve been capable of articulating himself in a conversation like this if not for the progress Bitty and he have made together.

But being aware of his worth as a person, and learning that his disorder didn’t define him but shouldn’t be brushed aside either, that wasn’t Bitty. “No, Shits. That’s your influence on me.”

This silence is even longer than the one before it, and then it’s broken by muffled sniffles on the other side. Jack's heart leaps, panic building in his chest -- but then Shitty says, throat choked up, “I thought -- fuck, Jack, this is gonna sound so motherfucking stupid. But I thought you didn’t, y’know. Need me anymore. I know this is on me too, I’m barely keeping my head above water here and the whole -- fuckin’ Harvard situation, it’s not… but each day we didn't talk and I saw your game scores, or I would see those Falcs vids… it looks like you have this spankin’ fuckin’ brand new life that I know shit about. And you’ve got Mashkov, and St. Martin, and…”

Jack can’t find adequate words for a long moment, and once he opens his mouth he’s surprised to hear his voice is thick, surprised to feel hot tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. “Shitty. Tater is great. And Marty is great, and -- Thirdy, and all of them. But.”

None of them are you, he wants to say, but that sounds too dumb to utter out loud. That’s not how Shitty and he talk to each other, or at least, it’s not how Jack talks to Shitty. Shitty is good at phrasing his feelings in ways Jack can handle, but Jack can’t ever make the right words come out of his mouth.

There’s another pause, his mind blanking, and then he says, “Tater didn’t make me sign a friendship contract.”

Shitty snorts, but it isn’t a happy sound. “Jacko --”

“No. Shits --. Tater didn’t make the effort to be my friend even when I was doing everything I could to push him away. He didn’t drag my ass to the Haus my freshman year after I hadn't talked to anyone but faculty in two weeks. He didn’t argue with Bergey until we were banked together on every roadie and was heartbroken when no one spread rumors about us hooking up.”

That shot goes wide. “Oh fuckity fuck, Jack, I’m a fucking dickhead --”

“Bordel de merde, Shitty, will you fucking listen?” Jack rubs his fingers over the bridge of his nose, feels his skin crease between his brows. “Tater didn’t make me go to Gender in Warfare in Early 20th Century America because he knew it’d end up one of my favorite classes, or learnt my story about the fire extinguisher and the football team by heart, or -- or have been defending me behind my back since the first week he knew me. Tater’s great. I’m -- you know, uh, thankful, for having people on the Falcs. I didn’t think it could be -- after the guys at Samwell, no team would ever be the same.”

“Yeah,” Shitty says, sadly, in the tone of someone who knows exactly what Jack means.

Jack’s throat bobs when he swallows, chest aching. “And they’re great. But Tater -- or Marty, or any of them -- they’re not...”

None of them are you, Jack wants Shitty to hear, gripping his pants in his hand again to balance himself. He doesn’t know how to say it in a way that would make Shitty hear him. None of them could ever be you.

There’s once again silence between them, only interrupted by Shitty’s quiet sniffles and the erratic beating of Jack’s heart. His phone is too warm on his ear, clammy from sweat smearing over the screen, but he can’t bring himself to put Shitty on speaker. It feels like they’re too far apart to have this conversation already, like Shitty should be sitting here on the couch next to Jack in flimsy underwear like he was every time they needed to talk like this over the past four years.

After a long moment, Shitty makes an ambiguous rasping noise and admits, “I was jealous.”

Jack winces. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Yeah, I mean, apology accepted, whatever, just. I was jealous they got to be there for you every day, really be there in the moments I used to live through with you that I now know zilch about. I was used to that being me.” He then adds, much more grimly, “Except apparently I sucked ass at being there for you at all when it counted.”

Jack sighs. They veered off topic to talk about something Jack considers more important, but now they were back to that and he knows in the pit of his stomach that they, both of them, won’t be able to move on until they talk this through. This is a conversation they need to have, even if it would be easier for Jack to not have it at all. “Shitty. I need to tell you something.”

The thing about Shitty is that he has faults like the rest of them, but Jack has always known that he’d drop anything if Jack needed him. He knows because it goes unconditionally both ways. Shitty’s voice goes immediately even and he wastes no time before saying, “I'm listening.”

Jack swallows. It feels -- heavy, on his breastbones. It didn’t before, it didn’t at Jerry's. He doesn’t remember this weight from years ago, when he first talked about it with his parents, and then -- later, too much later -- with his therapist. His chest was so laden with other concerns then that there was no room for anything more, and this burden was only ever an afterthought. At Jerry's he was thinking of Bitty, of Bitty’s happiness and Jack's own happiness with him, and the necessity of the action for their joint happiness. It didn’t leave any space for this weight.

Now he can feel the weight. It’s stupid. Shitty already knows, and besides, it’s Shitty. Jack knows Shitty so well that he can practically predict the exact words he will use, and even if he couldn’t, he knows Shitty would never turn him away. Yet his chest feels tight, like he’s holding in all of his air, and his fingers are again shaking against his thigh. “Shitty, I'm dating Bittle.”

Shitty makes a baffled sound, clearly not expecting this choice of confession. “I -- yeah, dude, I know.”

“I’m dating Bittle,” Jack reiterates determinedly, eager to get it over with. “He’s a guy.”

Shitty goes quiet for a moment, and then he says, voice low, “Okay.”

Jack wasn’t sure he was going to say it, but now that they’re here, this is something he wants Shitty to know. “He’s not the first guy I’ve been with.”

Shitty’s sharp intake of breath at this is audible even over the phone, but other than that he doesn’t react outwardly. Jack's shaking hand lifts up to rub over his chest while he waits for Shitty to say something, and Shitty doesn’t keep him waiting long. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

That’s almost exactly the reaction Jack expected to hear, but for some reason he doesn’t feel settled. “It never came up before.”

“That’s okay, buddy,” Shitty reassures him. Jack’s not sure what Shitty is thinking, if he’s thinking anything at all. This probably isn’t as big a deal to him as it feels like to Jack.

Jack frowns down at the shadows of his socked feet in the dark, thinks it over, and then corrects, “No, actually -- no. It never came up with anyone else. But I did think of telling you. More than once. You were the only one… but I had reasons not to. Or, I thought I did.”

“That’s still cool, brah,” Shitty hurries to interrupt. “You don’t have to --”

“No, because,” Jack sighs, trails off midsentence. He doesn’t want Shitty to make this easy for him, to allow Jack to take the exit he’s being offered. He knows they could stop the discussion right there and Shitty would never say a thing, but he doesn’t want this to hang over their friendship for the rest of time, and he knows that it could if he doesn’t force himself to dig deeper. “Because when you assumed that if I had someone it must’ve been a girlfriend, it hurt. I didn’t realize before -- I thought I was upset because Bitty was hurt, and I hurt him even more with my reaction, and it mattered more at the time. But it hurt. And that’s not entirely fair to you, because you had no reason to think otherwise. Because I didn’t tell you.”

There’s more rustling in the background, and Shitty talks over him before the last word is out of his mouth. “Jack, no, you’re under no obligation to disclose your identity to anyone and it doesn’t give them any right to assume -- I assumed and it was so fucking wrong --”

“Yeah,” Jack agrees, because it was. He’s not trying to argue that it wasn’t. Shitty was wrong, but that’s not the point Jack is trying to make.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” Shitty sounds contrite, and Jack can almost imagine the look on his face now. The small wrinkle in his forehead, the downward slope of his mustache, the sharp angle of his jaw. Shitty always looks older when he feels guilty about something. “So fuckin’ sorry.”

“That’s okay, man. Eh. Well, it's not, but it's forgiven.” And it is, Jack knows. He’s already forgiven Shitty, would have to try so hard not to forgive Shitty. They’ve hurt each other in the past and they’ll most likely hurt each other again in the future, but it’s never done intentionally. Shitty’s friendship is worth all of this crap and always has.

“I guess I just... “ Shitty lowers his voice, and Jack has to press the phone harder into his ear to hear him. “Fuck, I don’t want to excuse my actions, this does not in any way justify the shit I said. But I guess, in my mind, even though I know you should never assume about anyone, I did think that because it’s you… that you’d tell me. If there was ever anything to tell.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack says this time. He’s not sure Shitty knows this, but this is what he was trying to get to before. What Shitty is saying is reasonable even if it isn’t ideal.

“Fuck no. What the fucking fuck are you apologizing for, you idiot --”

“I’m not apologizing for not telling you, Shits,” Jack stops him before it becomes another rant. He’s growing tired of using so many words at once, feeling the toll of the unexpected emotional turmoil he’s dragging his overworked body through. “I know what you said was wrong, and I know I didn’t have to tell you. I’m saying I’m sorry if you were hurt by it. And I'm apologizing if it made you feel like I didn't trust you, or. Or some shit.”

Another pause follows Jack’s words, and he has to stifle the urge to collapse sideways into the couch and shove his face into a cushion until everything goes away. This conversation, as necessary as it is, doesn’t come naturally to either of them. They’ve been talking about their feelings for too long now and it’s starting to get awkward and overwhelming.

“I’m not saying I wasn’t super touched by your previous comment,” Shitty says, suddenly. “Because stereotypical masculinity is complete bullshit and I’m not ashamed to admit I teared the fuck up. But Jack -- Bitty has done some serious work on you. Or, like, you know, healthy relationships and all, you two worked on yourselves with each other to be better and all that, but. Man, I don’t think that’s a distinction you would’ve made six months ago.”

Jack considers it. The idea of someone’s hurt being valid even if the reason for it didn’t make sense probably isn’t a concept he would’ve been able to grasp, or at least would not have paid much thought to. Looking back, he was probably hurt dozens of times by little comments in the Haus, or things he heard around campus, or moments of feeling left out by his team; but when the reason for his hurt wasn’t completely logical it was harder for him to allow himself that pain. He would usually distract himself from it, instead. “Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“But can I just say again -- I'm so fucking sorry for being a heteronormative jackass. I’m sorry for hurting you, I’m sorry for hurting Bits, I’m sorry for --”

Esti de câlice de tabarnak. Jack drops his face into his palm and sighs over the string of Shitty’s rapidly escalating apologies. Jack is fully aware that Shitty is just going to apologize until they’re both old and gray if Jack doesn’t stop him. “Shitty, can you knock it?”

Shitty hesitates, but the flood of his words stops. “I miss you,” is what he says eventually.

Jack drops his hand down, leans his weight on his elbows and blinks at the dark room. Shitty used to tell him that all of the time. When they were apart on school breaks; when they were separated on roadies; when Jack had two lectures and a senior workshop on Wednesday nights and Shitty wouldn’t see him for several consecutive hours. Shitty’s affection was always abundant and inescapable, and Jack didn't know it was something he was lacking until he finally hears it. “I miss you, too, man.”

Shitty lets the gravity of it, the seriousness in Jack's voice settle between them, the earnestness he wouldn’t usually hand over easily when they were back at school. And then he says, “It’s hard as fuck, man. It’s hard to admit that it’s hard, too. It’s hard to see Lards’ pics from kegsters I can’t attend anymore, and it’s hard to find friends in this pretentious shithole full of pretensions dicks, and -- Harvard is fucking hard, Jack. And I hate being away from you guys, but I don’t wanna bring you down with my sad. You assholes are my goddamn family, there’s nothing that’s ever gonna replace that. It sucks knowing that I'm stuck here. I miss you so much it drives me fuckin’ insane.”

Jack knows, instantly and wholeheartedly, what Shitty is talking about. He’s living his dream and he loves the Falcs and he’s sincerely grateful for all of it even on his worst days. But sometimes stepping off the ice after a grueling practice and getting pictures of Bitty, laughing with Holster and Ransom on the ice at Faber -- it aches somewhere deep inside him. Sometimes he lies awake in foreign hotel rooms in foreign cities, and while most nights he longs for nothing more than Bitty’s presence, others he closes his eyes and wishes Shitty was there to crawl into his bed again. Sometimes he puts on his jersey before games and imagines the blue and yellow are red and white. His team from Samwell is his family, too, and sometimes missing them feels like missing an amputated limb.

“I wish we got to see each other more,” Jack squeezes out. His windpipe feels strangled, and for a moment he thinks that if he blinks too hard tears might well up again. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s so tired his body is shutting down, or because he’s been holding on to more emotions than he previously thought. “I didn’t know --. I feel the same way, Shitty, but I didn’t know you felt like that. I’m sorry we didn’t really talk much lately.”

It wasn’t something Jack was consciously aware of, but he more or less assumed that if Shitty was ever struggling he would just reach out for help. Shitty was always the better one of the two of them at communicating his feelings, at saying when he needed something or was going through a rough time. It never occurred to Jack to reach out and ask because he always figured that Shitty would come to him first. It's a startling realization. He really isn’t as good a friend as Shitty deserves.

“‘S not your fault,” Shitty objects, even though in some ways it really is. But Shitty means it, Jack knows, despite the lingering hints of anxiety. Shitty wouldn’t say it if he didn’t honestly believe it wasn’t Jack’s fault.

“Maybe, but you should make time for the things that matter to you, right? I’ll try to be better about that. I wanna be there for you, too.”

Shitty sighs, and the tails of it turn into a breathy, weary laugh. “Fuck, Jacko, this is a fuckin’ sobfest. Shit, man. Yeah. I’ll try, too. We could Skype, even. You know I miss that mug of yours.”

Jack finally pulls the phone away from his ear, wipes the sweat tracks away and switches the call to speakerphone. His calendar app is full of cute little reminders Bitty leaves anonymously, like 06:30 work hard and have fun! or 11:11 someone is thinking of you. He’s developed a habit of checking his calendar often these past six months, counting down the days until he gets to see Bitty next. He’s sure it won’t be easy, especially with the progression of the Falconers’ season, but from now on he’ll have to make every effort to fit more people into his schedule. Bitty makes him happy, but he’s not the only one who does.

Jack scrolls through the events logged into his upcoming week. He’s got a game on Monday and one at home on Wednesday, and then Thursday is American Thanksgiving. Bitty is throwing together a whole meal for the Samwell team. He told Jack that he’s under no obligation to come if practice time doesn’t allow it, but... “Are you going to Hausgiving on Thursday?”

Shitty curses loudly. “Fuck, I fuckin’ wish, but I don’t know if that’s smart. I’ve got this fuckin’ test coming up. But I promised Lar-- uh --”

Jack smirks, even if it’s only to himself in an empty apartment. Lardo texted him after Jerry’s to let him know that the two of them will exchange deets privately like civilized bros, but Shitty still seems to be under the illusion that he’s fooling someone. Like his heart-eyes haven’t been obvious from space -- and Jack is painfully aware that if he noticed, that really says something. “Lardo, eh? Not getting out of that one.”

He can almost see Shitty’s answering furious blush from all those miles away. “Fuck you, Zimmermann, don’t make this about me. What I was sayin’ is, I wanna be there super freakin’ bad -- we all know I will gladly sell my right leg for Bitty’s cooking --”

“And for Lardo’s company,” Jack chirps, incredibly satisfied with this turn of conversation.

“I will fuck you right up, don’t you think I won’t!” Shitty threatens emptily, even though Jack takes him down every single time. “Seriously. Your bro becomes a pro athlete and suddenly he thinks he’s a goddamn comedian. Anyway. For Bitty’s cooking, I will make an effort. You got team stuff?”

“No,” Jack says with finality, swiping his calendar closed. He always feels better when things are put into action. “I think I’m going.”

“For Bitty?” Shitty asks, most likely trying to chirp Jack back.

“Well. Yes,” Jack says, perfectly honest. He’s not in any way ashamed of how much he wants to be near Bitty all of the time. He doesn’t think he can remember ever being less ashamed of anything in his life. “But also for you. Think you can meet me there?”

Shitty’s quiet. And then he says, “For my best friend? I’ll meet you halfway across the universe, Jackabelle.”

After the two of them hang up the call, Jack doesn’t move, his eyes fixed blindly in the direction of the windows across the room. His food is growing cold on the coffee table, but Jack thinks that at this point he might genuinely be too tired to eat. Whatever little energy he had left after the game was spent on this conversation with Shitty. He doesn’t regret it; they needed to say all of those things. Jack needed to hear all of those things, both so he could forgive Shitty for something he didn’t know he was holding onto, and so he could work on being a more considerate friend.

The game plan is solid, though, Jack decides. Thanksgiving dinner at the Haus will bring the opportunity to be completely honest with his friends after months of hiding a big aspect of his life from them. And it’d be fun, too. Ransom would put together actual charts for the seating arrangement, and Holster would draw everyone into a betting pool on the football game results, and Bitty would inevitably prepare insane amounts of food using the frogs as his sous chefs. He would probably insist that they’d hold hands around the table and say one thing each of them wants to give thanks for, as well.

Jack doesn’t mind American Thanksgiving, but he’s never really seen the point of that ritual. He’s known for a long time now what he's truly grateful for.

#omgcp #jackshitty #jackshitty fic #omgcheckplease #pavfics #i decided not to wait for friendship day because i'm not sure i'll be around to post then #but i hope you'll enjoy this anyway? #i wanted to write something about their friendship in early y3 in forever

[blatant-attitude]

I couldn’t think of a good title for this one. It’s not one of my favorites I’ve written— but I can’t find any other area of this mini fic to try to spruce up and make better. I hope you guys enjoy it! ;)

Emily is jealous of Beth; Aaron is oblivious.

She can't tell if the headache is from the hangover lingering in her skull, or from the glaring across the table at the brown-haired woman with the overpowering cheap perfume from the over bubbly smiling-to-early-in-the-fucking-morning smile and laugh making google eyes at her boss.

JJ passes her a Tylenol as the waiter sets down Emily’s order of a hamburger, no onion in front of her. The waiter sets a grilled chicken salad in front of that wanna-be brunette bimbo who has an arm wrapped around Aaron’s own arm. Emily pops the Tylenol with a gulp of her large water before springing up from the table, mumbling something about peeing and washing her hands before she eats.

She can feel the team's curious eyes burn into her back as she disappears down the hallway that contains the bathroom. It's not long before JJ and Garcia are both coming to the bathroom after her. They study her with curious eyes while Emily washes her hands and refuses to acknowledge the two that just walked in.

“Em, honey, are you ok?” JJ asks her tentatively, stepping forwards and placing a hand on Emily’s shoulder. Garcia stands back still, watching with curious eyes.

“No. I'm not ok, JJ, because I am crazy head over heels in love with that man out there and he has another brunette wrapped around his arm, and she's not even that pretty.” Emily responded in petty, eyes welling up with tears. Her hands wipe at her eyes, clearing them of her unshed tears.

“Oh, honey.” Garcia pouted to Emily as she wrapped her in a hug, squeezing her to her chest. “You are going to be just fine, do you want me to shut down all of her credit cards? Or maybe make her nose and forehead look bigger in all of her pictures?” She offers up, which is enough to have Emily letting out a little laugh.

“No, let's not incriminate you in the process. Besides, her looking bad in pictures won't change her looks in real life.” Emily responds, pulling back and wiping her eyes again. “I think I'm going to head home. I'm still tired, and I can't promise I won't say something I might regret come Monday.” She opens the door, not leaving any room for conversation.

Morgan, Reid, and Rossi watch her as she exits and asks the waiter for a box. Aaron twists his head around and looks for a minute before turning back to the woman next to him. Garcia and JJ rejoin the group, giving a simple ‘she-just-isn't-feeling-well’ as an explanation for her sudden departure.

________________

Several days pass by before Morgan begins questioning her about what happened. ‘You weren't actually sick Saturday, were you?’ he begins which makes her roll her eyes.

“Derek, I really don't want to talk about this.” She sighs, wishing they were trapped in this car for another hour with each other. “I was hungover. That’s it.”

“Oh, so it doesn’t have anything to do with Beth and the obvious eyes you’ve been making at Hotch since you got back?” He slings at her, which makes her anger begin to explode.

“Derek Morgan, I told you I did not want to talk about this. If you say one more word I will unleash hell onto you.” She seethes, teeth clenching and brows furrowing.

He remains quiet for the rest of the ride, but she knows her outburst was enough of the answer he needed. Derek Morgan knows that Emily Prentiss is in love with her boss, and said boss has no idea.

________________

The coffee is shit, and so is the weather outside in Seattle is much the same. It’s been stormy, raining constantly, who’s is to be expected of Seattle. She can only assume that Rossi has just come inside from the rain because he steps up next to her soaking wet and begins pouring coffee.

“He is truly oblivious, isn’t he?” He comments as he brings the coffee to his lips, turning and leaning against the counter. Emily follows his gaze from where she stands, letting it land on Aaron hovering above a table and reading a file with JJ and some rookie cop.

“I’m not sure what you're talking about.” Emily denies it, leaving it there. They both let her say it, and they both don’t mention it’s a lie. They let silent understanding settle between them before he gives a silent nod and leaves her in the room to be by herself again.

Emily plasters on an unbothered face once more and heads out to solve the case.

________________

“How did it go with Hotch?” JJ questions when Emily and the man in question arrive back from interviewing a family member. JJ sits down at the desk chair next to Emily in the conference room of whatever town they're in this weekend. Emily just glances up from where her head is bent down into a file, dark hair falling around in a curtain around her as she does.

“It went like it always does. We found things out and we left.” She snapped back to her friend before turning her head back into the file in front of her. JJ just gives a sigh, not budging. She’ll get more information from the brunette soon enough.

It takes two hours before Emily is pulling JJ into a bathroom with frustration plastered across her face. “Why is he so stupid? Am I not being obvious enough? I mean, I don't want him to be unfaithful to his...whatever they’re calling it-- because I know his fidelity means so much to him. Especially after that stunt that blonde bimbo he married pulled on him. I don't know what to do anymore, JJ.”

Emily is upset; that JJ can see. JJ also knows that Emily just needs someone to listen to her so she can get the frustration out. “Feel better?” Emily just glares up at the question, scoffing in amusement. “No, but thank you for listening.”

The two leave the bathroom with curious looks from deputies, and the rest of the team members. JJ brushes it off, but Emily sends glares to her colleagues of the FBI. Hotch returns her glare, face set sternly as it meets hers across the room. Reid glances down, seeming to wish he could disappear with the tension in the room. Morgan and JJ just watch the two, eager to see who’s going to break first. Rossi gives a little chuckle, shaking his head as the two brunettes continue to stare at each other head-on. Emily turns away first, choosing instead to return her mind to her file.

________________

Emily’s morning spent with Derek looking at houses and talking about foundations has her rethinking even buying a house. The case comes in while they’re still looking at homes. They arrive on the scene quickly, and Emily has to force her mind to focus. Why does he have to look so good in a plain t-shirt and some jeans?

When the bomb went off in the bank, the only thought in her head was how she was going to tell him how she felt, because she wasn't sure she would make it through the day if this is how it was going to go. Covered in soot, she worked her way into a room where she could hear a faint scream for help and found an older couple.

By the end of the day, she was disarming a bomb around her best friend's man while still covered in the soot from the first explosion. She clips the wire with the hope that she's got it right, and feels her body break into chills of relief when she does. She leans to the side, feeling her racing heart slow with her panting breaths as she leans back. Body weak with the crushing adrenaline high.

Morgan and Aaron come running up the stairs to where she’s now sitting next to an equally breathless Will. Morgan begins to clip the chains around Will while Aaron offers Emily a hand to pull her up. The slight contact has Emily’s heart rate picking up and her stomach clenching together as she remembers what she’d told herself earlier in the day.

A wedding is (secretly) planned for the next day and everyone is leaving in favor of a shower and sleep before she's got a chance to pull Aaron to the side by herself. She stands in the shower letting the scalding water run down her body, doing what she told Clyde she would do. The conversation plays over and over in her mind, keeping her awake through the night.

“...but um..If I had more help-- say, running the London Gateway Office. You’d get your answer a lot quicker.”

“Yeah, you should fix that.”

“Well, I'm trying.” A job. He’s offering her a job.

“You have always had bad timing.” She thinks of Aaron. Of his new love for this brunette. Of her infatuation with him that he can’t see.

“Oh, come on Emily, don't you miss this?” She does...somewhat.

“I--Yeah. I will.”

Emily zips her dress with the conversation on her mind still. A job running the London office. Even thinking about it has her head spinning so much she’s unsure of when she arrived at the party… wedding.

Emily’s conversation with Derek ends with a sad sigh and Penelope spewing something garbled into her drink as she leaves and Hotch, Jack, and her enter the room. Derek leads Jack and the other woman away to the fountain, leaving her with him. “How are you?” He questions with an easy smile that has her shaking her head with a deep sigh. “That bad, huh?” Easy conversation leads to an agreeable breakfast date where they can talk about it, but Emily knows deep down she won’t go to that date. She’ll say what she needs to say tonight, and that’ll be the end of it.

Easy dancing on the boxed-off yard with the team, being passed through their arms until she lands in Aaron’s arms has her laughter flowing freely. Being held here, in his arms, is what has her realizing that maybe she always knew they weren’t going to last. Maybe that part of her is what made her want to accept the job in London.

“We both know that I won’t be at breakfast in the morning. Clyde Easter offered me a job running the London Office. I've decided to take it. You and I both know that I was always going to leave again. I can't grab onto my life the way it was before Doyle.” Her words are whispered softly against his shoulder as she leans close to him. Soft hands trace to grab his face, turning his eyes to meet hers. “Aaron Hotchner, I love you. I have loved you since I first saw you all those years ago in my mother's home, and I continued to love you all this time. Until the next time.” With a sad smile and a chaste pressed kiss to his lips, she pulls back and leaves the yard.

The rest of the crowd stare in shock. Emily has just kissed Aaron in front of his date. “Aaron?” Emily hears Beth because that's her name, Beth, question in shock as she steps up to him and grabs his arm gently. “Beth, I’m-- I’m so sorry. I've got to go after her.” Aaron’s voice carries across the yard as he jogs after her, following her inside and catching her arm just inside the door.

“Emily, wait! How long? How long have I been blind?” The question has her giving a dry laugh but his hand tightens around her wrist in seriousness. “After your divorce. I knew before then you wouldn’t have gone for anything offered because you are too good of a man. After the divorce, I started flirting then, but it seemed that you were the only one who hadn’t noticed. Then Foyet and Doyle happened, and now here we are. You're with Beth and I’m flying across the Atlantic to take a job with Interpol.” There’s a slight pout to her mouth when she finishes talking.

Aaron feels the pulse speeding up in her wrist where he holds it. His other hand reaches up and cups her sharp jawline. He presses another kiss to her lips, pressing hard enough she feels her lips will bruise. Foreheads rest against each other when he pulls back. “I’m sorry I didn't see it earlier. Maybe we could've had something amazing.” He drops his hands from her, backing away from where she stands and he leaves. Walking back outside to inevitably explain everything to his girlfriend, who stares at the both of them in complete shock.

@florenceremingtonthethird - A tag as promised : )

#aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #hotchniss #mini fic #jealousy

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: Intermingle: part 2

Pairing: dom! yoongi x inexperienced reader ft. Taehyung

Warnings: co-workers to lovers, angst, smut, public sex, dry humping, thigh riding, oral (f) receiving, oral (m) receiving, cum swallowing, fingering, daddy kink, fluff, teasing, protected/ unprotected sex (stay safe always)

Rating: 18 and over

“Fuck daddy yes. Please, just like that!” You yank at Yoongi’s hair, shamelessly grinding against his erection while he tugs and sucks on your nipples. He growls against your soft flesh, the sounds of you reaching your climax seemingly driving him wild. “God, I need you inside of me daddy, please!” You beg. He releases your nipple from his lips, looking up at you with lust in his eyes. He licks his lips, opening his mouth to speak. “Meow! Meow! Meow!” You look at him in confusion. “What?”

*Meow! Meooorrrrwww! *

You stretch your entire body, rolling over to see you have 15 minutes left on your alarm, too bad your cat hadn’t picked up on that notion. “No Frenchie! Go back to bed!” You grumble. She leaps up onto your bed now, kneading into your belly. You whine from under the covers. “I’m gonna give you away you pest.” You threaten, jumping up from the bed causing her to leap to the ground. You stamp into the kitchen and prep her breakfast. She happily noms away allowing you to pet her as she does. You head back to your room to turn off your alarm and get ready for a shower when an idea pops into your head. You grab you phone from the side table and sit down on your bed, removing your pajama top. You pull your hair forward, making sure to cover your breasts so just a bit of nipple shows through, and you snap a couple of selfies. You review them, choosing your favorite and send it to Yoongi with the caption ‘I woke up so wet thinking of you daddy.’ You sit for a moment, biting your lip, waiting for a response and then wonder to yourself if he would even be awake this early, seeing as how he is always late for work. With no response you hop in the shower, emerging fresh and clean. You dress in black dress pants, a white button-down shirt, and black cardigan, keeping it open instead of buttoned up. After applying some makeup and straightening your hair you head out the door. Your phone finally buzzes, and excitement fills your belly only to be crushed by a text from Becca, informing you she will be out the rest of the week. You frown and shove your phone in your bag.

A loud honk startles you, “Excuse me miss, I heard someone was in need of a cleanup crew?” You turn to the voice and smile wide at Yoongi driving slowly beside you as you walk. “Get in beautiful.” You wait for him to stop and hop in. “You missed more than a few buttons today.” He teases. “Oh shush.” He laughs leaning towards you to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “You didn’t answer my text!” You shove him away. “Of course, I did. Surprise!” He waves his hands in the air. “So, you came all the way over here, because of my photo?” You give him a suspicious look. He nods. “Uh, yeah, I did. Do you think I wake this early cause I like to? When I saw the picture, I had to make sure you hadn’t lost you mind completely after last night. Can’t have you revolting you know. First, it’s the shoulders, a little bit of thigh, and then it’s free the nipple.” You laugh out loud at his comment. “I love you,” You giggle, covering your mouth quickly, “I mean, like your humor. Not that I actually love you. It's just an expression that I use. I’m sorry, I’m over explaining.” He gives you a sly smile but says nothing. Your heart races in your chest and you begin to shake your leg nervously. “Wanna grab some coffee before we get to the office?” He asks, resting his hand gently on your shaking leg and giving it a comforting squeeze. You look at him and he winks at you. “Calm down kitten. Daddy’s got you.” You immediately stop shaking your leg, swallowing slowly. “Yeah, sure, coffee sounds nice.” He nods and focuses back on the road. You arrive at the office garage and your nerves kick in. “Maybe we should go up separately, so people don’t think anything.” Yoongi looks over at you puzzled. “What would people think? That one coworker gave another a ride to work?” “You know what I mean Yoongi.” “No, I don’t. Do you not want to be seen with me because that’s the vibe I’m getting?” You scoff at his accusation. “That’s not true.” “Good, so let’s get up there. I think this will be the first time I’m on time in like a year.”

You both arrive upstairs to find the boss standing by your desk. “Ah, Y/N, Yoongi! Good morning. Y/N, I need you to come with me and meet the new guy. He is just a temp tester we will have here until Rebecca comes back; he will be working on the other games we have launching. I’ll need you to show him the ropes, lend him your expertise, show him some of the cool things we’ve been working on with the new game. I’m counting on you.” You nod, following behind the boss to the conference room, Yoongi not far behind. “Taehyung, this is Y/N, and this is Yoongi, he’s in graphics. They are actually on a team together working on the new game.” Your face drops as Taehyung greets you with a smile. “What the fuck?” Yoongi whispers under his breath. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m excited to help out.” “Taehyung here is my soon to be son in law.” You and Yoongi both look at each other and then to Taehyung. “Now I trust you will take good care of him Y/N. Yoongi, you can get to work. Have a good day everyone.” Your boss walks out, leaving the three of you to stare at one another. “Hello Jagi.” “Don’t call her that.” Yoongi all but growls. “Min Yoongi, right? Nice to see you again. I thought I heard him say you could get to work, no?” Taehyung smirks at Yoongi. You turn to face Yoongi, who is staring daggers into Taehyung. “Please, just go. Its ok. I’m fine.” He shrugs and pulls you towards him. Your body tenses. “You know I don’t trust that guy.” He whispers. “I know but let’s not draw unneeded attention to ourselves. You can trust me. Come on Yoongi, don’t tell me your jealous?” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but soon stop once you notice Yoongi’s stern face. “You have absolutely no reason to be jealous Yoongi.” He nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, I’ll see you at lunch yeah?” He looks you over. “Uh, I don’t know. I have to train him and show him what Becca has been working on.” You tell him. “Yeah, and you have to eat.” Yoongi snaps. The jealousy in Yoongi causes you alarm, he always seems so confident, you couldn’t imagine him being threatened by another man. You give him a smile, hoping it will help him feel more comfortable. “Don’t smile at me like that. This isn’t a game. I’ll see you at lunch.” Yoongi declares, giving Taehyung a dirty look before walking off.  

You turn to face Taehyung, “Did I hear that right? Did he say soon to be SON in law?” Taehyung nods. “So, all this time the woman you were fucking behind my back was my boss’ daughter?” “I didn’t know that then Jagi. I only just realized,” You laugh at his words, “You have to believe me.” He urges, moving towards you. “I don’t have to do anything.” “Tell me Jagi, is that Min Yoongi your boyfriend now?” “And if he is?” You cross your arms. “Has he told you then?” “Told me what?” “That he slept with my fiancé?” You heart drops to the pit of your stomach. “He mentioned that he had a one-night stand with the boss’ daughter.” “Yeah, well, imagine my surprise when she threw it my face that she too had an affair. We had a terrible fight, and she says to me that I’m not the only one with prospects. Then she gives me a name, Min Yoongi, and at first, I’m trying to figure out where I know the name from. Well, when it hit me, I was shocked to say the least Jagi.” “Hurts doesn’t it? Getting cheated on?” You spew. “It does. What hurts more though is doubting whether the child your fiancé is carrying is yours. Tell me Jagi, how well do you really know him? I told you I had a bad feeling about him. You shouldn’t trust him.” Tears burn at the back of your eyes and you begin to stutter. “No, you're wrong. It’s your baby.” You say shakily. Taehyung says nothing, instead just shrugs, seemingly unbothered. “Excuse me. I have to go to the restroom.” You run out of the conference room and straight to the bathroom. Once locked in you begin to quietly sob. Surely Yoongi would’ve mentioned impregnating some girl, wouldn’t he? You keep your hand over your mouth to hold back your cries. You soon gather yourself, checking your makeup in the mirror. “I won’t let him do this to me. Not anymore.” You say to yourself in the mirror. You escape the restroom and head to your desk to find Taehyung already seated at Rebecca’s desk. “I didn't mean to upset you. Look, he doesn’t know about us, my father-in-law I mean. I’d like to keep it that way.” You nod. “Sure. I'll keep my mouth shut if you keep yours shut, about Yoongi and I.” He eyes you suspiciously. “So, he is your boyfriend?” “I never said that. Now, Let’s focus on your training.” You clear your throat and turn to your computer, an alert popping up on the screen.

Minyoon93: How’s it going? I figure we go out for lunch today. BBQ place? I'll grill you a nice steak.

You sniffle a bit reading Yoongi's message. Your heart pounding thinking of what Taehyung alleged. “I could definitely go for some BBQ.” Taehyung says, reading over your shoulder. You close the window off. “What are you doing? You are not coming to lunch with us. Go back to your station.” You suck your teeth at him. “Oh, Jagi but I am, you didn’t think I took this position because of you, did you? No, it’s because I intend to make Min Yoongi’s life a living hell. I’m going to make things so bad for him, he won’t make it to launch. So,” He leans in close, hate in his eyes, “write him back and tell him you’d love to join him for lunch. Let’s say around noon.” He smiles, moving back towards Rebecca’s desk. “And if I don’t?” He snorts at your attempt to boldness. “Then I tell your boss all about you and Yoongi and we both know how bad he’s been itching to fire his ass.” “Who are you Kim Taehyung? I feel like I never knew you at all.” Taehyung gives you a thin smile. “I’m sorry Jagi. I wish you weren’t involved but since you are all I can ask is that you stay out of my way.” You immediately feel sick to your stomach, had you truly not known Taehyung at all? You needed to warn Yoongi without potentially ruining his position here at work.

Noon rolls around and Yoongi arrives promptly to pick you up. “Lunch time already? Time flies when you have an amazing teacher training you all day.” Taehyung stretches, smiling brightly at Yoongi. “Sorry friend, you're not invited.” He informs Taehyung, reaching out his hand for you to grab. “Oh, Jagi invited me. Didn't want me to feel left out. This wasn't a date was it?” He chuckles. Yoongi shoots you an annoyed look and starts for the elevator without you. You roll your eyes at Taehyung who wiggles his brows at you, following you to the elevator. “BBQ, right?” Taehyung asks. No one responds but you watch as Yoongi white knuckles the grab bar in the elevator. You all exit, you and Yoongi walking ahead. “It's not what you think, he’s got this vendetta against you. We need to find time to talk alone.” You whisper to Yoongi. “You ruined any chance of that by inviting him.” Yoongi whispers back. “Secrets?” Taehyung asks, shoving between the two of you. “Just asking Yoongi if he's finished with my notes on the new levels.” You offer. Taehyung nods, opening the door to the restaurant. “So, how long have you two been dating?” Taehyung asks once you've been seated. Yoongi chuckles, clearly pissed off. “We aren't dating.” You cut in, getting a look of disdain from Yoongi. You realize your mistaken and go to reach for his hand, but he pulls it under the table. “How long are you temping for?” Yoongi asks Taehyung. “Through launch. Rebecca being out throws a wrench in things for my father-in-law, so I was asked to help out.” “I didn't know you gamed. You look like one of those stock guys.” Taehyung laughs at Yoongi’s assumption. “Yeah, I get that a lot. You, on the other hand, look like a gamer. Shaggy hair, rocker clothes, you look like you don't really put much effort into anything but sleeping and gaming. I, on the other hand, love gaming, gaming is how I met Y/N. I guess we have that in common.” “We do have that in common. Although don't let my look fool you. I put all my effort into everything I do. Right kitten?” You look up at Yoongi and can feel your face turn red. You clear your throat and begin to stutter. You tuck your hair behind your ear, happy to see the waitress arrive. Taehyung does the honor of ordering, while Yoongi starts the grill. “So, tell me friend, what's the real reason you took this position? I know it isn't because you wanted to be helpful to your father-in-law.” Yoongi leans back in his seat.

Taehyung gives Yoongi a wide smile. “You’re right. I could care less about this stupid launch. I'm here because of you.” Yoongi scoffs, “Because of me? And why exactly is that?” “Did you know?” Yoongi's brow furrows and he can't help but stifle a chuckle. “Know what exactly?” “Did you know she was pregnant when you fucked her?” Your eyes shoot open as Taehyung stares pure hatred at Yoongi. You look between both men, waiting nervously for an answer. Yoongi sighs, crossing his arms, looking over to you then back to Taehyung. “Yes.” He says plainly. You gag on your own saliva, covering your gasp with your hand. “You fucking asshole!” Taehyung jumps over the table to grab at Yoongi. You shout as he knocks over the beverages. Yoongi shoves Taehyung back into his seat. “She knew you were cheating,” Yoongi shouts, “She slept me with to get back at you.” “I should kill you.” Taehyung seethes. “Yoongi, how could you? She was pregnant with another man's child.” You whimper, tears forming. “She wasn't far along and anyway she told me after we were done. Look, I never said I was Saint ok. I didn't know Taehyung was her fiancé or your ex. I don't owe any of you anything.” You let a tear fall. “You're right. You don't owe me anything.” “I told you he was no good Jagi.” Taehyung comforts you by taking your hand. “That's rich coming from the cheating ex.” “You may not owe her anything Yoongi, but you owe me everything and everything I will have. It's going to bring me such pleasure watching you lose it all. Come Jagi, let’s get out of here.” You stand with Taehyung, Yoongi jumping up. “You’re not leaving with him, Y/N.” “Will you stop her? Please, I dare you to try.” Taehyung taunts. “I don't owe you anything Yoongi.” You spat, leaving the restaurant with Taehyung, not looking back when you hear a fist collide with a wall.

You hadn't bothered to talk to Taehyung since lunch and he didn't bother you, instead working quietly at Rebecca’s desk. You hadn't noticed either, if Yoongi walked in, too immersed in your levels to pay attention, your heart still breaking over his words at lunch. ‘I don't owe any of you anything.’ Sure, you guys weren't anything official, but his lack of empathy was what truly hurt you. How could he be so cold?

Minyoon93: We need to talk kitten. Please.

You look over your shoulder to find Taehyung focused on his computer screen, happy your headphones were on to keep the alert from sounding out loud in the small space you both shared.

Y/L/N/Birth year: I’m not interested honestly, besides what happened to not owing anyone anything?

Minyoon93: I felt cornered, I’m sorry, please, please let's talk.

Y/L/N/Birth year: I can't right now but I’ll stop by later with my notes.

Minyoon93: I'll be waiting.

“Jagi.” Taehyung's voice causes you to jump. “What?” You spin around after closing the chat window quickly. “I'm done with these levels you gave me if you want me to move on I can.” You simply nod, having gave Taehyung other games to work on. “Hey,” He rolls towards you, “I'm sorry about lunch. I know you liked that guy but it's better to find out early that he's a scum bag. Just between us, you didn't sleep with him, did you?” “That's none of your business. Just focus on your work.” You snap. Taehyung smirks at you causing your blood to boil, knowing he knows the answer to his question simply from your body language. After all these years he could still read you like a book. “I’m glad Jagi. He doesn’t deserve to know you intimately.” You snarl at him with anger in your eyes. “I never said we weren’t intimate. We just haven’t slept together. Did you think you’d be the only man in my life forever Kim Taehyung?” You stand grabbing your notes from your desk. “I’m going to drop these off. I’ll be back.” Taehyung stands with you. “I’ll come along.” He offers. “No! Thank you.” You throw your hand up causing him to take his seat. You release a proud huff and walk off towards Yoongi’s desk. You stand behind him for a moment and chuckle to yourself as you watch his leg shake frantically whilst he chews at his fingernails. “Nervous?” You whisper. He looks over towards you, dropping his hand from his mouth, and standing. He goes to reach for you but stops himself, looking around instead. “I’m sorry about lunch. I shouldn’t have said what I said. You deserve an explanation. I don’t want us to start things off on a bad foundation. I’m not a bad guy. If you just give me a chance to show you.” You lift your hand, pressing a finger to his lips to quiet him. “Now isn’t a good time for this. There’s too much going on and too many people around. Let’s talk later. You can drive me home.” He nods at you, pressing his lips into your finger. You hand him your notepad. “Levels 11 through 20 are done.” You say with a large grin. “You’re awesome. I’ll go over these now.” He takes the notepad and drops it on his desk. You turn to walk off but Yoongi grabs your hand, tugging you back. “No one's looking, kiss me, please. I want to feel your lips against mine.” You feel your face flush, darting your head around to see if indeed no one was looking. “I’m still mad at you.” You whisper, leaning towards him. “I know kitten, I know.” You gently press your lips to his, instantly swept up in his commanding mouth. You moan softly causing him to bite on your lip as you part. “I have to go. We’ll talk later.” You lick your lips, walking off.

At 5pm Yoongi arrives at your desk with notes in hand, “All done.” You look up at him with a small grin. “Wow. That was fast! I think one quick look at everything, and we may be ready to present to the boss for review week.” Yoongi nods, looking over at Taehyung who is clearly immersed in your conversation. “You guys make a great team!” Taehyung chimes in after a moment of silence. “Yeah well, it's time to go so, are you ready?” Yoongi asks you cautiously, side eyeing Taehyung. You nod, straightening out your desk before standing to leave. “Have a goodnight you two.” Taehyung smiles, waving you both off. You both get into the elevator and you can feel the tension building between you and Yoongi. “That was odd, no?” You ask. “It was. I don’t trust him. He’s up to something. I don’t think we should touch or talk much until we are out of the building.” Yoongi whispers. You nod, following behind him to his car. You both sit in silence for a while as he drives you home. “So, you wanted the chance to explain yourself.” You start. Yoongi sighs. “What I did with Taehyung’s fiancé, that was stupid. I truly had no clue who she was to him or you or any of this. She was beautiful and she flirted with me. I had already taken her to my place when she told me she had a boyfriend. I wanted to stop everything right then and there, but she was adamant about getting him back for cheating on her. She said she found things in his phone and she was really hurt. I guess I felt bad which is horrible to say and so I slept with her. It was after we, well you know, that she told me she was pregnant. She was only a few weeks then. She had just found out, she was emotional, embarrassed. I was so angry at her for not telling me before, not truly giving me an opportunity to say no in the matter. She said she knew I wouldn’t sleep with her if I knew. Look, I’m sorry. I get it if you don’t want to continue to see me or whatever. Just know my feelings for you haven’t changed.” You swallow hard, thinking about everything he just said. You wanted to be mad, hell you couldn’t help the fact that you were jealous, but in this moment, you could tell he was being honest, and you wanted nothing more than to forgive him. However, you had questions, so many questions. “You can ask me whatever you want kitten. I’m an open book for you.” He replies as if reading your mind. “Did you use protection?” He smirks at the question. “Of course, I did. I always use protection.” You nod. “Did you like it?” You immediately slap your forehead the minute the question leaves your mouth. He full on laughs now. “It's ok, don’t be embarrassed. Its normal to feel jealous. I’d be lying if I said Taehyung being around didn’t make me jealous.” You look over at him in confusion. “Really?” “Hell yeah really. He’s extremely handsome, and he’s literally the only man to have made love to you. Of course, I’m jealous.” You smile to yourself. “You don’t need to be jealous. I think your handsome, sexy even.” He smirks. “Thank you, kitten. To answer your question, full disclosure, yes, I enjoyed it but what man doesn’t really enjoy sleeping with a beautiful girl? Besides, it’s not how I enjoy being with you. It's different being with you. You make me feel like I can love again you know. Like there is more out there for me. Anyway, you don’t have to be jealous of anyone from my past. None of that matters for me. All I can think about is you, us.”

He pulls into your parking garage and parks, looking over at you. “Any other questions? Anything you want to just know?” “Do you want to come up? We can make up.” You lick your lips suggestively with a shrug. He chuckles, pressing his folded hands into his crotch. “I do but I won’t. Not yet kitten. It's not right just yet.” You reach your hand over, under his linked fingers, and palm his growing erection. He groans quietly and you feel your pussy moisten. “I want to make you feel good. What’s not right about that? I want to suck your cock daddy, please.” He sucks in a breath at your brazen comment. “Damn kitten, you shouldn’t tease me like that.” “I’m not teasing. God you don’t know how often I dream about you; how bad I want you? Do you wanna know what I dreamt about just last night?” You whisper, cupping Yoongi’s balls and giving them a good squeeze. You lean in and kiss his open pout softly, “Do you want me to show you daddy?” You moan into his mouth. He raises his hand into your hair and grips tightly, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You mewl at his desperation, reaching to undo his belt. He stops you, causing you to whimper. “Not yet baby but soon I promise. I want all of you, but it has to be right. When you’re ready to be mine completely.” You sit back in your seat and pout. “Don’t do that baby. You know how I find it irresistible.” He leans over and kisses you again, the same thought passing through your head; Be BRAVE.

You spring forward, sure not to break the kiss, climbing over the gear shift and into Yoongi’s lap. He moans as you dig your hands into his hair, tugging on his soft shaggy locks. He grips your waist tightly, dragging you along his erection. “This time we’re both gonna cum.” You tease, catching his bottom lip in your teeth and tugging. He groans at your sudden rough behavior, even you are surprised at yourself, but you needed him so badly. The thought of him leaving right now, jealously over another woman, and all the stress of having Taehyung around was slowly building up inside you and all you wanted was this man and the sweet release you knew he could bring you. You grind down shamelessly over and over in his lap, moaning out like a true kitten in heat. You feel yourself moisten under his heated gaze, his cheeks flushed, his hands only gripping tighter and tighter on your hips. “You need to know now; I’m not going to cum Kitten.” He pants. You smirk, unbuttoning your shirt to reveal your sheer bra. He looks over your breast, licking his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples pressing against their soft barrier. “You sure about that daddy?” You mewl, releasing one of your tits, tugging and twirling your bud in your hand. “Fuck.” He whispers, tossing his head back against the headrest. You feel his cock twitch beneath you and it only motivates you to grind harder against him. “You’re going to cum!” You almost threaten. He gives you a slick smile, leaning forward to plant kisses along your neck. Once he reaches your ear, he whispers softly to you, “Don’t test me kitten. You’re not in charge here.” You whimper at the feel of him bite down on your earlobe, slowly making his way back down your neck, collar bone, and to your exposed breast. He bites the bare flesh hard causing you to cry out. He soon suckles at the spot, creating a dark purple mark. “Yoongiiii, don’t.” You pout. “Mm, but you look so sexy with my mark on you. I’m going to have so much fun leaving marks all over you.” He teases, licking at your nipple through hooded eye lids. You groan at the sight, gasping at the feel of Yoongi shifting below you to press his thigh between your legs. “How about instead of stopping this all together, daddy lets you fuck yourself on his thigh? Let me see your gorgeous fucked out face.” He pants from between your cleavage, slowly rubbing his button nose between your mounds.

You lean back slightly, shoving your breast further into his face, feeling safe wrapped in his arms as you grind against his clenched thigh. Your clit burns with need as you press her firmly against him, grinding unabashedly once again. He soon begins panting with you, watching you closely as you bring yourself closer and closer to climax. Your core soon burns with your impending orgasm. You rock harder against him, feeling the car shake with your every motion. You notice the windows have fogged over, your belly tightening and your skin goosing. “That’s it baby, cum for daddy.” You throw your head back, hit with the hot waves of your climax. Your cunt trembles with every gasp and you can feel you’ve soaked through your dress pants. You slowly stop your movements and lower your head to meet Yoongi’s gaze. “You. Are. So. Fucking. Beautiful.” He declares, taking you by the mouth into a powerful kiss. “I want more. I want you.” You whisper into his mouth, tugging at his belt. He smirks. “Soon kitten. Very soon. I promise.” He kisses you on the cheek softly when a hard knock on the window causes you both to jump. You yank your shirt closed, leaping towards the passenger seat. “It’s ok kitten. Calm down.” You nod, frantically buttoning your shirt. Yoongi rolls down the window to find the parking attendant standing beside him. “Sir, do you live here?” “Uh, no, I was just dropping off my girlfriend who does live here.” “Alright well, there’s no loitering. So, I have to ask you to leave.” Yoongi nods, hitting the button to pull the window back up. “Girlfriend huh?” You smile. “Didn’t know what else to say. No pressure. I should get going though. I can pick you up in the morning. We can drive in to work together.” “I’d like that.” You nod, leaning over to kiss him again. “I’ll see you in the morning.” You go to leave but turn to Yoongi again. “We have to be careful at work. I’m afraid for you, for us. Taehyung isn’t going to let things go quietly. We should try to keep the peace.” He nods. “I know baby and I agree but let’s not worry about that. Let’s just get through this launch and soon he will be out of our hair. It's going to be ok. I promise.” You nod at Yoongi’s confidence, leaning in to kiss him goodbye once more. He rubs his fingers along your cheek gently and you exit the car and head up to your apartment.

The following morning, you’re beaming as you head downstairs to meet Yoongi. He’s parked out front, patiently waiting for you. “Morning.” You greet, hopping into the car. “Morning kitten!” He beams, leaning over to kiss you. He points to the cup holders between you and you smile wide at the sight of fresh coffee. “You’re too sweet but I think it was my turn to get the coffee this morning.” He shakes his head. “I'll never let you pay for anything again.” You blush a bit at his comment, hiding behind your coffee cup as you sip. “You look great by the way.” You take note of his dangling earrings, ripped blue jeans, black button down, and red and black bomber. He looks down at himself and shrugs. “You look better baby. God, I love those fucking cardigans.” You roll your eyes at him, yanking at the collar of your bright yellow buttoned up cardigan to reveal you’re not wearing a shirt underneath. He sucks in a breath before licking his lips. “Every day is a surprise with you Kitten. I gotta say I am enjoying discovering all your pretty layers. Never a dull moment.” You giggle now. “So, how was your evening? You know after you left me?” He smiles wide at your question, revealing his gums. “Didn't I tell you if you want to ask me something, you’re just going to have to come right out and ask it?” He gives you a sinful smile now. You feel your cheeks flush and you shrug. “Say what you need to say kitten.” You take a deep breath and release a slow sigh. “Did you make yourself cum thinking of me last night?” You whisper. “Did you want me to?” “You can't answer my question with a question.” You whine. He looks you over and you do your best to avoid eye contact. He grabs your chin now, forcing you to make eye contact with him. “I didn't,” He smirks, leaning to whisper in your ear, “I'm saving it all for your greedy cunt.” He straightens up, checking his mirrors before driving while you sit in shock, your pussy tightening with need. You begin to stutter but can't find the words. “Let's get going before we end up being late.” You swallow hard and just nod, collecting your thoughts. “We should maybe do something this weekend. I mean, outside the office, like normal people.” You clear your throat, nervously awaiting his response. “So, like a date?” He looks at you briefly, to wink and then back at the road. “Yeah, like a date. You can meet my cat.” “Oh, I’ve met your cat baby.” You suck your teeth, swatting at his arm, soliciting a cute chuckle from him. “I’m kidding baby, of course we can do something this weekend. Anything you want.” “Good, I’ll look into some things and let you know over lunch.” “You got it kitten.”

“Good morning you two.” Taehyung greets from Rebecca’s desk as you both approach. “I’ll see you at noon.” Yoongi whispers, tugging at your pinky before walking off to his desk. “Morning Tae. How was your evening?” You inquire, taking your seat. “Informative and yours?” You look at him now with suspicion in your eyes. “What’s going on Taehyung? You’ve been, I don’t know, too nice.” He purses his lips slightly and shrugs. “I don’t know what you mean Jagi. I’m sorry you feel that way.” “Don't bullshit me ok! You came in all guns blazing about how you were going to ruin Yoongi’s life and now suddenly, its great teamwork and good mornings? What's going on?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “You really need to calm down Jagi. You’re too wound up. I don’t ever recall you being this way when we were together.” He runs his fingers down your arm and you quickly swat his hand away. “Don't touch me.” He nods. “We should get to work. Lot’s to do today.” He turns to his computer, covering his ears with his headphones.

Y/L/N/Birth year: Taehyung is definitely up to something. In other news, I looked up and reserved a slot for us at the art museum. Not sure if you're into that stuff but I figure it would be fun. Saturday at noon, I know you're not an early bird. Let me know what you think.

Minyoon93: Hold onto your seat Kitten cause I have a huge surprise for you...I love art!! Ha-ha, I can't wait to spend the day with you. Sounds great to me! In other news (imagining your cute voice saying this), don’t stress the ex!! We can worry about him another time. He isn't significant. Lunch on me today. ;-*

Your heart beamed reading Yoongi’s message and you tried to remember the last time it was that you felt this enamored with someone. “Jagi,” Taehyung’s voice crawled up your spine like a snake, “I am all done with these levels also. What would you like me to start on next?” You turn to him and rummage through the items on Rebecca’s desk. “Peter is the graphics guy working with Rebecca on these levels, you can walk over your notes to him and then start on this next.” You hand him another thumb drive with a different game. He nods with a smile. “Is it ok to wait till the end of the day to drop it off? I want to give everything to him all at once.” “Sure. Whatever you’d like.” You smile and turn back to your desk, unable to shake the nagging feeling that something is wrong.

At just about 10am, you receive an email from the boss about a ‘Launch Team Lunch’ at noon. “There go my lunch plans.” You whisper to yourself. At just before noon, you make your way to the conference room, where there is a huge spread of sushi and salad for the team. “Hey there gorgeous.” Yoongi whispers in your ear. You turn to face him, and he winks at you. “Guess we will have to settle for seeing each other after work.” You whisper to him. He nods, grabbing some food and following you to the table to sit down. Your boss soon enters. “Welcome team! I am happy to announce that many of you have finished the levels that you have been working on and I am beyond proud of the work we have all come together to accomplish. With that being said, please take this lunch as just a token of my appreciation. Monday is final review, Wednesday is submission day, and Friday will be a fabulous launch party. Everyone is invited!” Everyone in the conference room erupts into applause at the news. “I am very excited to get this game out to the public and the higher ups are excited to close this deal! Y/N! Yoongi! Amazing teamwork, you two were the first two to get everything done so I am most proud of the two of you. I expected nothing less. Yoongi, please stay after work today for your annual review. That’s all people, enjoy lunch and let's get this game to launch!” Everyone claps again as the boss exits the room. “Should I be concerned about this review?” You lean over and ask Yoongi. He shakes his head, shoving a roll in his mouth. “Same thing every year. Work on your lateness, be more respectful of your workplace, keep up the good work. Its fine kitten. Don’t worry.” He swallows with a nod. You nod with him but again can't shake this feeling. “How will you get home?” He breaks through your thoughts, wiping his mouth. You chuckle, “Uh, public transportation, same way I did before you started driving me.” “Alright, well, I’ll call you later after I’m done here and pick you up tomorrow for our date.” “Sounds like a plan.” “Wanna sneak out? Go to my car? We have some time left and I can go for some dessert.” He licks his lips, looking up at you from under his bangs. “What are you thinking? The coffee shop.” You say brightly, sitting up. He smiles at you and shakes his head. “Come. Let’s go.” He gets up and walks out, you following behind him. You both move quickly out of the office and to the elevators, making your way through the garage to Yoongi’s car. You walk over to passenger side and furrow your brow at Yoongi who makes his way behind you. “What are you doing?” He raises his eyebrows, opening the back door and taking you by the hand to lead you to the back seat. You can’t help but laugh as he helps you take a seat, looking around before he climbs in beside you. “Yoongi, what are we doing? I thought you wanted to grab dessert.” He tilts his head at you as realization crosses your face. “Lie back baby.” He whispers. You slide back slightly and lie across the back seat. Yoongi looks over your body, turning to lean on his knees, grabbing your right leg and crossing it to the other side of his body. “Yoongi.” You swallow hard, feeling yourself clench around nothing. “Shh, I got you baby.” He says, gripping your thigh to pull your body down towards his. You squeal a bit as he covers your body with his, wrapping his lips around yours.

You moan wrapping your arms around his neck while shoving your tongue in his mouth. He slides his hand up and gently squeezes your breast before making his way back down your body, his hands playfully exploring your body, landing on the button of your dress pants. He unbuttons them with ease, tugging down the zipper, and pushing his hand into them to squeeze your thick mound. You groan, thrusting forward, desperate for friction. He soon lifts his hand up slightly to tuck his hand into your panties, gliding his middle finger along your slit. “Damn kitten. I haven’t even touched you yet and already you’re soaked.” He licks at your earlobe. “God, you don’t know how bad I want you.” You tremble under his touch. He chuckles against your ear, making his way to your neck, using his slender fingers to part your lips to coat his tips in your arousal. He pulls his fingers from your pants and shoves them in his mouth. “Delicious.” He pants, lifting off you to tug your pants and panties off. You gasp at the cold seat touching your ass. He continues to yank until the garments are off completely, sinking between your legs. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi! People will see us.” You try lifting your head until you feel Yoongi glide his tongue through your slit. “Oh fuck!” You cry out. Yoongi grips your thighs, latching on to your needy clit and slurping luridly on it. You cry out curses amazed at how quickly you can foresee this ending. He soon wiggles his head, using his nose to dig deeper into your cunt. You moan and groan as he bobs his head up and down your inner and outer folds, nibbling and suckling until he finds your entrance.

Your back arches as he growls, quickly entering you with his tongue, fucking you with rapid thrusts. You slowly begin to grind against his face, spreading your legs wide with the desperate need to have your clit massaged. Yoongi picks up on your cues and begins to suck your labia into his mouth, slowly making his way back up to your swollen bud. He looks up at you as he wraps his mouth around your clit again. You cry out under his gaze, the sweet feeling of figure eights activating all your nerve ending. He pants against your sex switching now between figure eights and suckling, sending your senses to over drive as you feel your walls clench and your belly tighten. “I’m gonna cum soon daddy. It feels so fucking good.” He smirks against your pussy, bringing a hand over to slowly dip his first two fingers in and out of your entrance while still servicing your clit. Your thighs begin to shake with the feeling of that coil deep inside you twisting tightly. “Daddy.” You pant over and over, your eyes rolling back when you feel him enter you fully with his fingers, curling them to meet your g-spot. Your coil soon shatters, a scream escaping your throat, your body trembling uncontrollably with the most intense orgasm coursing through you. Yoongi continues to rub and kiss your cunt until your body stops trembling, only lifting his head when you’ve seemed to calm. “How’s that for more?” He smiles, licking your arousal from his face. “That was amazing.” You lull, giggling with your hands over your face. He grabs your pants and assist you in putting them on in the tight space. You soon lean over to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

“When do I get to repay the favor?” You ask, reaching down between his thighs. He catches your hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “Soon baby.” He says, looking to his watch. “Why won't you let me do anything to you?” He looks at you confused. “You do so much to me baby.” “I mean fuck you. Suck you off. Jerk you off anything.” He laughs wide, his face dropping when he realizes you’re not joking around. “Oh kitten, come on. I just want to enjoy you. Besides, why do we need to rush? You really do, do so much to me and for me that’s enough.” You scoff. Exiting the car. Yoongi soon follows behind you. “Kitten, please, don’t be upset.” “You don’t want me to touch you. Why?” You poke his chest now. “I do, believe me I do. I want all of you. Do you think I don’t want to be inside of you already? I just want it to be right.” “You’re hiding something, and I am sick to death of people hiding things from me.” You start to stomp off, stopping for a minute when you hear something clatter in the distance. “What was that?” You whisper. “What,” Yoongi asks, looking around, “I didn’t hear anything.” You roll your eyes and continue to the elevators. “Kitten, I promise, it’s not what you think. Please, trust me ok. I would never hurt you or hide anything from you on purpose.” You shrug and look him over. “Whatever.” He sighs, pinching his nose as the elevator doors open and you both enter. He swallows hard, looking up at the cameras, “I promise kitten. It's nothing bad. I really like you. Please, don’t be upset with me. Say you’re not mad or else I’m going to kiss you right here and now in this elevator and I don’t care who sees.” You look at him with narrowed eyes. He lifts his head to the cameras again then to you, raising his brows. You sigh. “That’s blackmail you know.” He shrugs. “Fine. I’m not mad. I do trust you. It's just…waiting sucks.” He nods and smiles just as the elevator opens on your floor. “The wait is almost over. I’ll call you tonight kitten.” You nod at him, heading to your desk.

You sigh to yourself, noticing Taehyung missing from his desk, wondering if he is in the conference room grabbing food for himself. You look over your cubicle to see if you catch a glimpse of him down the hall. “What are we looking for?” His voice creeps from behind you. You yelp at his unexpected pop up. “Where were you?” You question, holding your chest. “Grabbing lunch.” He smiles, holding up a delivery bag. He walks past you and plops down in Rebecca’s seat, unloading his lunch. You eye him suspiciously before taking your own seat and continuing your last minute projects.

Minyoon93: Get home safe Kitten.

Y/L/N/Birth year: You too. Can’t wait to have naughty phone sex later. LOL.

Minyoon93: O_O I’ll be sure to make this thing brief.

You log off soon after and head home. By 7:30pm you’ve showered, ate, fed Frenchie, and are on your bed waiting for Yoongi’s call.

*8:00pm*

*8:45pm*

*10:20pm*

“Alright, what the hell?” You mumble, picking up the phone and calling Yoongi instead. It rings and ring until, “You have reached the voice-mail box of Min Yoongi…” *BEEP* “Hey its me. Um, I guess your meeting ran late or something and I’m sure you’re exhausted. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. I guess around 10ish. We can grab coffee. My treat! Um, have a goodnight and I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh, sorry, I said that already. Hope you’re OK. I’m sure you are. OK. Goodnight. Bye.” You sigh deeply, hanging up the phone, lying back in bed with a heavy feeling in your chest. Would he really not call if he said he was going to? Oh well, he would surely explain in the morning.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP *

You rise early to get in a shower and get pretty for your first date in forever. After checking your phone, you see no missed calls but either way its no big deal to you. By 10am, with no call or sign of Yoongi you decide to call again. “You have reached the voice-mail box of Min Yoongi….” *BEEP* “Hey sleepy head! I hope you set an alarm. I don’t want to miss our time slot so I think I’ll just head over to the museum and just meet you there. When you get this just go straight to the museum. See you soon. Bye.”

11:45am and still no sign of Yoongi, you clear your throat of the giant lump forming as you make one final attempt at reaching out. “You have reached the voice-mail box of Min Yoongi…” *BEEP* “You know if you didn’t want to come on the date you could’ve just told me instead of standing me up. Anyway, sorry to, I don’t know why I’m apologizing. Goodbye Yoongi.” You hang up and walk up to a couple making their way towards the entrance. “Excuse me! Did you guys get tickets yet?” “Not yet.” The young lady says. “Well, you’re in luck. I won’t make it in. Enjoy.” You hand over your tickets and smile wide as they thank you and walk off.

*Mreooowwwwww*

Frenchie greets you as you walk through your front door, tears streaming down your face. You plop down on your couch unable to stop the sobs that escape your throat. Frenchie hops up on the couch beside you, rubbing her body against your side to comfort you. Soon your phone buzzes and you shoot forward, yanking it out of your pocket. You suck your teeth as it lights up with the name Kim Taehyung. “What do you want?” You seethe into the phone. “Hello to you too! I just wanted to check in and see if you wanted to grab lunch.” You rub fresh tears from your eyes, silent on your end. “Jagi? You there?” “Where’s your wife?” You hear Taehyung chuckle. “Fiancé and she is at her parents' home. I told you we fought. She’s been taking time away. Anyway, it's just a lunch among friends. What do you say?” “I’m not in the mood but thank you.” *MREOOWWW* “Is that Frenchie? I’d love to see her. I could come by, bring mandu. What do you say?” You take a deep breath, mulling the idea over in your head. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” “Oh, come on. What do you have other plans? I’ll be by in about an hour. See you soon Jagi!” He hangs up before you can continue to protest.

In exactly one hour, he arrives with food in hand.  “Hi Jagi. You look nice. Did you go out?” He observes you in one glance as he enters. “I went for a walk this morning.” He drops the bag on the table and slides out of his coat, looking around the apartment, his eyes lighting up when he sees Frenchie hop up on the counter. “Hello my love.” He mews, walking over to her. Her eyes shrink as she hops on her hind legs, front paws in the air.... *HISSSSSSSSS*…. She drops down to the ground and scurries off to your bedroom. “What on earth was that?” He looks over at your bedroom in confusion. “You know she's temperamental. Besides, it's been a while since she last saw you. Just come eat.” You grumble, already helping yourself to a mouthful. Taehyung takes a seat across from you and reaches down to grab your foot from the ground. You flinch instinctively but he holds on tightly, slowly beginning to rub your foot. “Don't,” You whine, “It's inappropriate.” “Because of Yoongi?” He asks causing your heart to jump at the sound of Yoongi’s name. “Because of your soon to be wife!” You shout, yanking your foot from his grasp. “Its never stopped us before.” He smirks suggestively. You scoff, sitting up straighter in your seat. “What happened to wanting to do right by her?” He shakes his head. “You really know how to ruin a moment.” He says, focusing on his plate. You stand and head into the kitchen to grab water, taking a moment to calm your nerves, when you feel Taehyung press his chest against your back. He nuzzles into your hair, running his hand down your arm, slowly trailing kisses down your neck. You release a low sigh, exposing more of your neck for him, losing yourself in the moment. “Yoongi.” You whisper, feeling Taehyung’s body stiffen, his kisses stopping. He spins you to face him and you swallow hard reality hitting you. “He’s never going to touch you again Jagi. Not while I’m around. He doesn’t know you like I do. You’re caught under his spell, his ridiculous charm, but it’s all a façade. Let me show you that I can be all you want and need.” He kisses your lips softly, moving to your earlobe and placing a soft kiss there. “I can be your daddy.” You heart seizes in your chest. “What did you say?” You pull away from him. “What,” He replies puzzled, “Is something wrong?” You shove him away fully. “You need to leave Taehyung. I’m sorry but you have to go.” He shoves his hands in his pocket looking you over, giving a small nod. As he pulls on his jacket, he smiles at you, moving toward you to run his thumb along your bottom lip. “Your mine Jagi. Always and forever. I’ll see you Monday.” He turns and leaves not waiting for you to walk him out.

“Hello! Where have you been? I've been worried sick about you. Why didn't you call?” “I'm so sorry kitten…. I…. We…. just….” “What? I can't hear you. You're coming in and out. Yoongi? Hello?”

*BEEP BEEP BEEP *

You wake to your alarm with a gasp, snatching your phone from your side table to see no missed calls. You hop out of bed with a fire under your ass so great that you are showered and ready to go in 45 minutes. You opt for a skirt today with a low-cut tank top assisted by your best push up bra and a cardigan on top, open for dramatics. You arrive at work promptly at 9am and head straight to the conference room for your final submission to the boss. Your palms are sweaty as you anticipate Yoongi’s arrival. The door opens behind you and your boss walks in, assistant in tow. “Good morning Y/N, I see Yoongi is late but what's new?” You give a tight smile, your leg shaking frantically. At 9:15am, Yoongi strolls in and your cunt nearly bursts at the sight of him. He's wearing skintight black jeans and a white button down that's clinging to his damp chest, even his hair is damp, and you can't help noticing the bags under his eyes. He walks past you, sure to not make eye contact and takes a seat. “Yoongi, we just spoke about lateness.” Your boss scolds. “I apologize.” Yoongi grumbles. You suck your teeth and chuckle at his apology causing both Yoongi and your boss to look at you. “Something funny?” Yoongi snaps. “Just your blatant disregard for the people around you. Other than that, nope nothing.” You snarl. “You missed some buttons on that cardigan mother Teresa.” He clips, turning to face your boss. “Alright enough you two! Now, I’ve reviewed your work and it's amazing. All the kinks are out, and it's been approved by upper management. You guys have been greenlighted. So, you no longer have to work together. I am sure that makes you both happy. Great job to you both! I was very impressed by your dynamic so I may call on you two again to team up in the future. Now, get to work on the other projects you were working on and I will see you both at the launch party. Have a great day!” Your boss applauds you both as he walks out of the room, his assistant in tow. Yoongi sighs, standing to leave, as he walks toward the door you jump up and block his way. “Excuse me." He says dryly, eyeing your cleavage before looking away.

Your eyes shoot open at his disregard for your feelings. “You bastard!” You watch him swallow hard, but he says nothing. “I called you! I waited for you! I went to the museum like an idiot thinking you’d show! I was worried sick about you, and you come in today like what, like you don’t even know me? You owe me an explanation Min Yoongi!” You shout. His eye sink and cheeks flush. “I’m sorry but I shouldn’t have agreed to the date. Its better this way. Clean break.” Your breathing quickens and you begin to stutter. “I, clean break for who? I… I don’t understand. We, the car, and you, all those things you said. How could you do this to me? I let you touch me in ways no man has ever!” “Yeah well, there was a reason I never let you touch me ok and I just think it's better if we end things now before they get out of hand. Don’t make things harder than they need to be.” He snaps. You stutter, stumbling back a bit, reaching for a chair to steady yourself. His face softens and he moves toward you, taking you by the arm. “Hey, ok, wait. Take a deep breath, just relax ok.” You can’t help yourself; you lean towards him and fall into his arms. He tenses at first but slowly hugs you tightly, stroking your hair. “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? I know you don’t mean this Yoongi. I know you care about me, about us.” You whisper into his chest.

“I’m sorry kitten but I don’t. I lied to you ok. I, I just wanted to fuck you.” You jump back, staring at what feels like a stranger. “Liar! If that was true, we would've fucked that first day, but we never did.” You cry, not bothering to stop the tears from falling. “Why do I need to lie? You practically threw yourself at me that day and I mean I’m a man. Why would I say no? Things were moving slow and I wanted to respect that, besides we had to make the most of working together but once I saw how caught up you got on me, well, honestly, I didn’t really want to get caught up in a relationship if you catch my drift. It was fun while it lasted kitten.” He scratches at the back of his neck, looking down at the ground to avoid eye contact. ‘Perfect,’ you think to yourself as you cock your hand back and slap him hard across the face. Shock spreads across his face quickly as your handprint forms on his fair complexion. His rubs his cheek, nodding, and looking up at you with tears burning in his eyes. “Feel better now?” “I’d feel better to kick you right in the balls you piece of shit! I should've never let you touch me! You’re a pig Min Yoongi. You took advantage of me when you knew all along you had no intention of moving things further. I opened myself up to you. You should be ashamed of yourself! You’re just the same as Kim Taehyung. Lying snakes, the both of you.” You shout. “One day you'll know that's not true.” He responds, walking past you now, leaving you to cry alone.

“Morning Jagi. You ok? You look, drab?” You stare daggers at Taehyung as you enter your cubicle. You sit down at your desk, putting on your headphones and drowning him out. You spend the rest of the day this way. At the end of the night, you hop into the elevator to go home, sighing with relief as the doors begin to close. A hand catches the door before it can close completely and Yoongi walks in. He nods at you briefly and focuses on his phone. The elevator goes to close once more as another hand catches it. Taehyung enters and the two men give each other hateful looks. This time the elevator makes its way down. “So, Jagi, maybe I can stop by again to see you and Frenchie. I had fun this weekend with you. I missed spending time with you.” You cringe at his remark as you catch Yoongi look over at you both from the corner of his eye. You swallow nervously not sure how to respond. “Maybe.” You reply weakly. Yoongi scoffs, scrolling through his phone again. Taehyung looks over at Yoongi and stares at him suspiciously. “Can I help you?” Yoongi asks, never looking up from his phone. “Why are you leaving so early? Hot date?” Taehyung inquires and you feel your heart thrash in your chest. “No why? You offering,” Yoongi looks up now at Taehyung and then over at you, “Or is this a thing again?” Your eyes pop open. “No way! Taehyung is married.” You reply in shock. Yoongi nods, not breaking his gaze. “This is us Jagi.” Taehyung interjects as the elevator reaches the lobby. You nod, still looking at Yoongi as you exit.

“You should really stay away from that guy. Besides I hear he’s fooling around with a woman in graphics.” Taehyung says while opening the lobby door. “Who told you that?” “My father in law. He says he saw them canoodling at his desk, all giggles and whispers. I told he’s no good Jagi.” “You know your father in law is a liar. I wouldn’t go believing all the things he says. I have to go. Have a goodnight.” You hurry off down the street, pulling your phone out and dialing Yoongi’s phone. It rings and your heart pounds. “You have reached the voicemail box of Min Yoongi.” *BEEP* “You know if you were fooling around with someone else you could’ve told me. What’s her name? Did she know about me? I wish I never did those things with you. I hate you Min Yoongi!” You hang up and release an anguished shout.

The following day Taehyung convinces you to go to lunch with him. As he goes on and on about work and the launch and how much he is going to miss working with you, you feel your mind wander. You sit silently trying to recall all your moments with Yoongi, wondering what you missed, had it all been a lie? “Jagi.” You turn to face Taehyung with a hum and he leans in and plants a kiss on your lips. Your eyes pop open and you shove him away. “What are you doing?” “Were you even listening? I said I miss you and I still love you.” You begin to stutter, feeling your face flush, looking around for a waitress to come save you from this moment. As you scan the room you lock eyes with Yoongi, who’s staring at you from the register, food in hand. He looks almost defeated as he turns and walks out of the restaurant. “I... I don’t feel the same Taehyung. How can you even say these things, you’re getting married!” “I know but that doesn’t mean we have to stop seeing each other does it?” You cover your mouth to keep from gagging. “Oh, Taehyung. You are so pathetic for thinking that I could ever be someone’s second choice. This is done, for good. We can keep things professional but that’s it.” He shakes his head hard. “That’s not how this works Jagi. You are mine! Forever!” Your brow furrows at his reaction. “I belong to no one! Goodbye Kim Taehyung. I will see you back at the office.” You get up to leave and Taehyung jumps up shouting, “Hey! I’ll give you time to cool off, but I’d steer clear of pissing me off Jagi. I promise you’ll regret it.” You look around at the patrons all staring at you and leave.

Thursday: POV: MIN YOONGI:

Yoongi shuffles in his seat, staring over the conference room table at Y/N. He groans under his breath staring at her soft mounds poke out the top of her tank top with every deep breath she pulls in. Every day this week she’s worn less and less. He rests his interlocked hands in his lap to hide his growing cock as it twitches in his jeans. She looks over at him through her peripheral vision and Yoongi can’t help but sit taller. She sits forward a bit and peels her cardigan off, exposing her lean arms. Yoongi sighs, unsure of how much more of this he can take. He knows she’s teasing him, wanting a reaction and boy if she only knew how he truly felt. How badly he just wanted to hop over this table and claim her mouth, just the thought of her gagging on his cock sent shivers down his spine, he was so tired of waiting. He had planned to make Saturday so special, it killed him to watch her cry on Monday as he lied about his feelings. Crushed him to know she was spending time with Taehyung.  Taehyung, that bastard, the one who started all this trouble, the reason for all this grief. Yoongi’s eyes scanned the room, stopping on Taehyung who lingered in the back of the conference room. He growled to himself, wishing his looks could kill right now as he stared pure death at Taehyung. Taehyung immediately feels Yoongi’s hatred, looking over and locking eyes with him. He gives Yoongi a smug grin before turning away. The same grin he gave Yoongi that night that changed it all for Him and Y/N. If only he could tell her the truth. He was doing this all for her.

Last Friday: POV: MIN YOONGI:

“Yoongi as you know you are an integral part of the team and we are happy to have you working here at the company! I have no real complaints about your work. I just need you to work on your lateness. As a part of said team you need to show up on time, all the time. The people who are here on time don’t like watching you stroll in like you own the place, got it? So, if you do me any favors this year, let that be it. Other than that, I have been speaking with upper management and we want to offer you a new position here, head of graphics, an increase in pay of 25%. I know it's a lot to ask but I hope you’ll say yes.” Yoongi’s eyes shoot open and he leans forward, clearing his throat. “Wow, I am in shock sir. I honestly didn’t think you liked me.” The boss laughs loudly, slamming his hand on the table. “This isn't personal Yoongi. I like that you make me money and you're one of the best graphics guys around. You think I'd let you go off to some other company over petty nonsense or rumors? Look, take some time to mull it over. We can talk about it at launch. I have nothing else to cover. Do you have any questions for me?” “Uh no sir. Thank you.” Yoongi nods. “Alright then, have a great weekend!” The boss stands, tapping Yoongi on the shoulder on the way out. Yoongi sits for a moment alone, smiling wide at the offer he’s been given. He can't wait to call Y/N and tell her. He pulls his phone out of his pocket just as the conference room door opens.

“Good news?” Taehyung asks, walking in and taking a seat across from Yoongi. Yoongi sighs, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “As a matter of fact, it was.” Yoongi replies, standing now to leave. “Uh, before you go. I think we should talk.” Taehyung kicks his feet up on the conference room table. “And what would we ever need to talk about?” “Y/N.” Taehyung replies plainly. Yoongi scoffs, leaning on his hip and scratching his forehead. “When are you going to get it through your head? She doesn’t want to be with you. She’s moved on. Get over it, don’t you have someone to go home to?” Yoongi shakes his head in annoyance and turns to walk out again. “I hacked your computer. You wouldn’t believe what I found on there.” Yoongi freezes at Taehyung’s statement, turning to face him. “You're talking shit.” Yoongi drawls. “You sure about that.... daddy?” Yoongi’s face drops and he leans over the table. “Don't fuck with me Taehyung.” “On the contrary, don’t fuck with ME,” Taehyung drops his feet down off the table and sits upright, “Even better don’t fuck with my girl.” Yoongi laughs out loud. “Your girl? You're delusional and I'm done entertaining you.” Yoongi walks off, only stopping dead at the sound of Y/N’s soft moans, “I need your hands on me, right here, in my tight hole. I want to cum on your fingers. Please.... daddy.” Yoongi feels his blood boil. “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch.” Yoongi warns, racing to reach Taehyung who scurries to the other side. “It's intriguing to me that you would remove these from the main interface but keep them on your personal hard drive. I mean, I understand why of course. Even I rubbed one out a few times watching her come undone.” He laughs, running away from Yoongi as he tries to reach for Taehyung again, “I know what you’re going to say, it was your personal computer and I had no right, but you had it right there on your desk for any ole body to just grab. I couldn’t resist. Tell me friend how does she taste? It's been a while. Is she still as sweet as I remember?”

Yoongi growls, running at full speed, catching Taehyung by the throat. “I dare you to talk about her like that again.” He says through clenched teeth. Taehyung laughs, straining to speak “I don’t think you understand your position in this situation friend. I’m the one with the power here not you. Now, if you don’t want me to release that video or anything else to everyone in this office, including my father-in-law, you best let me go.” Yoongi squeezes harder before releasing Taehyung, who drops to the ground coughing. “What do you want for them? Money?” Yoongi asks. “No, I don’t want your money. I want her. So, what I want from you Yoongi, is to stop seeing her.” “Not gonna happen.” “Then I release everything, including your hot and heavy backseat session this afternoon.” Yoongi cocks back to punch Taehyung, who ducks down, walking backwards while speaking once more, “Or, you can break her heart now, walk away, and never see her again. It’s your choice.” “How could you ever say you love her and be willing to do this to her?” Yoongi asks, dropping his fist. “I’m doing this because I love her and because you don’t deserve her. So, do we have a deal?” Taehyung ask, putting his hand out for Yoongi to shake. Yoongi could feel the sting of tears in the back of his eyes. He didn’t want to give her up, but he cared about her too much to allow her life to be ruined because of his carelessness. “Promise not to hurt her or release the videos and we have a deal.” He whispers, shaking Taehyungs hand, sealing his fate.

Thursday: POV: MIN YOONGI:

The meeting was over, and everyone was filing out one by one. Yoongi sprung up quickly to follow behind Y/N like a loyal puppy as she made her way over to the employee lounge. Yoongi popped a K-cup into the Keurig to make it seem as if he had reason to be in the lounge as well, watching her out the corner of his eye as she heated her morning coffee in the microwave. “What?” She snaps causing Yoongi to freeze in his spot. His brows shoot up towards the sky as he cautiously turns with a shrug. “What?” He throws back. “You keep staring at me. Why? What is it? If you have something to say just say it.” She spat at him. He had a million things to say, he just couldn’t say them. She shook her head at him as the microwave beeped. “Coward.” She says under her breath. “Tease.” He replies under his, unable to help himself. “Excuse me?” “You heard me. I know what you’re doing. Taehyung would be really upset to know you’re dressing like this to get a rise out of me.” She laughs out loud and it’s the sweetest thing Yoongi thinks he’s ever heard. “Fuck Taehyung and fuck you too.” She says with a sip of her coffee, heading for the exit. “Promise.” Yoongi grumbles. She scoffs, walking straight over to Yoongi, pressing her full breast into his chest. He bites down on his lip, gripping the counter behind him to keep himself from ravaging her right there. “You had your chance Min Yoongi and you ruined it. To think I was ready to lay it out for you raw in the back seat of your car. Silly me.” She whispers, pressing her body into his harder. Yoongi groans, leaning forward, so turned on by her, so desperately in need of her lips around his. She pouts at him, a sly smile creeping across her face before she licks his bottom lip. She soon digs her hands in his hair pulling him into a deep kiss, taking command of his mouth. She bites and sucks at his lips before suckling and swirling her tongue around his like a woman mad. When she breaks the kiss he leans forward, mouth open desperately trying to catch her tongue against his again, but she simply walks away with a giggle. “Enjoy your blue balls…. Daddy.” Yoongi can’t help but chuckle, feeling his pants tighten around his cock. She was going to be the end of him but if it meant he could have her then he was more than eager for his demise.

*LAUNCH DAY*

You stood before your mirror dressed in the skimpiest outfit you could find, a red mini dress with drape neck front. You unfortunately couldn’t wear a bra because the dress had your entire back exposed, but it didn’t bother you much. It was the exact look you were going for. You put on black strappy heels and to add just an extra bit of fuck you to your look you put on Yoongi’s diamond crusted choker. You look yourself over once more, nodding at the way the dress hugs your curves. “This is it.” You say to Frenchie, who is lapping at her nether regions with no shame. You add a bit of lip gloss and hail a cab.

You arrive at the event space, heading inside quickly to avoid the camera’s snapping photos outside. You grab a glass of champagne from one of the waiters walking about and move about the party in search of a familiar face. Your heart begins slamming against its cage at the sight of Yoongi leaning against the windows, drinking you in. How long had he been there, you wondered, watching you? He looked amazing in all black with gold and silver designs glittering from his bomber jacket. You moaned to yourself, wishing you could walk over and latch onto his pout. You release a sigh and turn so your back side is facing him, looking over your shoulder briefly to see his sly smile. You bite your lip to keep from laughing out loud and walk off. “Y/N,” Your boss shouts greeting you with a smile, “My goodness, you are quite the sight tonight! Come we are all gathering in the back for a quick huddle.” “Sure.” You walk towards the back and light up at the sight of Rebecca in full on mermaid dress. She squeals when she sees you. “Oh my god! You look fabulous! I said be brave not shameful!” She laughs hugging you. “How are the kids? Is everything ok?” “Yes, thank goodness! How are you? I need to know everything. I saw Taehyung hanging about. What the hell is that about?” You roll your eyes. “Girl it is a long story to say the least. We need a weekend to fill in the blanks. I am just happy you're back. I missed you so much!” She hugs you again tightly. “And what about Hades over there?” She giggles. You look over to see Yoongi staring at you again. “I don't know,” You shrug, “It was good until it wasn’t. I am terrible at dating and picking guys it seems.” “Oh shush. It's not you, its them! It's too bad it didn’t work out with him. He looks like he eats pussy well.” Your eyes pop open and you both burst out laughing. “Be quiet! I'm sure he can hear you!” “Who cares?”

“Alright! Gather around everyone! I just want to take a moment to say how happy and proud I am that we were all able to come together and make this launch happen on such short notice! It truly speaks to the type of team we are and how well we all work together. Of all the gaming companies in all the world, I’ve got the best one! So, enjoy tonight, get drunk, get laid, just don’t let me hear about on Monday! Hear, Hear!” Your boss finishes his speech with a raise of his glass, and everyone hoots and hollers in response taking sips from their cups. You excuse yourself and tell Rebecca you are heading to the restroom, feeling a grab on the back of your arm. You turn to face Yoongi. “You look amazing.” “Thanks. You look good too.” He smiles and gives a nod before looking around. “Looking for someone?” You chime in, bringing his focus back to you. “No, you, always you. Tell me, did you dress like this for me or Taehyung?” He lifts his hand up to run his fingertips along the choker around your neck. “For myself.” You say with attitude, slapping his hand away. He nods. “So, you're over me then huh? Are you and Taehyung back together?” Your heart drops watching the sadness spread across his face. “You are truly an enigma Min Yoongi. You dumped me remember? What even is this? Guilt? Ego? I honestly can't do this with you. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the restroom.” You turn and walk off. You push the door for the restroom and feel someone shove you in. “What the hell?” You spin and are met by Yoongi’s desperate lips. You melt into him, moaning into the kiss. He pulls away, looking you over, “What if I could fix everything? What if I had a solution to all our problems? All I need is to know that you still have feelings for me, that things haven't changed between us. Tell me kitten, do you still want me?” “Yoongi, you hurt me. All those things you said, they were awful....” “Do you? Yes or no?” He demands, cutting you off. You stutter a bit, feeling his arms tighten around you in the safest hug you’ve ever felt. “Yoongi. Of course, I still have feelings for you. I don’t think I ever stopped.” A small smile spreads across his face. “I’m gonna fix it baby. I’ll make it right. I promise. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I can make it better.” He kisses you again and you swear you feel all his emotion in this one kiss. He pulls away and hurries out of the bathroom. “Wait! What do you mean?” You yell but he is already gone.

You do your business and exit the restroom in search of Yoongi. “Have you seen Yoongi?” You ask passersby, making your way through the party. You finally catch up to Rebecca “Have you seen Yoongi?” You ask her. “Yeah, for a minute,” she looks around, “He grabbed the boss and walked off. Not sure where though. Is everything ok?” “Yeah, just something he said to me about fixing things. I just wanted to know what he meant.” She hums in contemplation. “Well don’t just stand here girl get your man.” You blink at her for a moment until she snaps her fingers in front of your face, urging you to go. You hurry along and bump right into the boss who looks lost in thought. “Oh, Y/N, sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” “That’s alright. Have you seen Yoongi?” “Unfortunately, I have, he just quit.” “What?” You shout. “Yes, and I am very unhappy. If you’ll excuse me. I have to go find Taehyung.” He walks off like a man on a mission. “Taehyung?” You whisper to yourself, quietly following behind your boss. He spots Taehyung in the crowd, grabbing him by the back of the arm and leading him into the kitchen area. You sneak in behind a waiter, crouching down behind a counter, to snoop in on your boss and Taehyung. “Is it true? Are you blackmailing Yoongi?” The boss growls.

Taehyung’s brow furrows as he searches your bosses face for a bluff. “I’m not sure of what he told you sir, but he’s been breaking company policy by having interoffice relations with…” “I don’t give a fuck what he’s doing, and you shouldn’t either!” Your boss shouts, a gasp escaping your lips. “Do you have any idea what blackmail can do to a company like ours? You think people give a fuck about two consenting adults fucking after hours? Have you lost your mind? Your concern should be my daughter who has been staying with me and my wife for over a month while you worry yourself with Y/N and Min Yoongi! Is it true she is your ex?” He questions now, pacing a bit. Your heart slams heavily in your chest. “Is it? Answer me goddammit!” He shouts causing Taehyungs jaw to clench. “Yes.” Your boss growls into the space, his voice echoing back. “So, lets add conflict of interest to the list of shit you’ve dropped in my lap. You’re fired do you hear me. Your only concern from here on out is my daughter and the child she carries. If I ever hear about you or Y/N or Min Yoongi I swear to god, I’ll end you. Now delete any content you have pertaining to the two of them and put this thing to bed. Do you understand me?” “I don’t love her anymore, your daughter, or maybe I never did.” Taehyung responds lifting his head high. Your boss nods, running his hand through his hair before grabbing Taehyung by the collar tightly, pulling him close to his face. “I don’t give a shit if you love her or not. You will marry my daughter and be a good and loyal husband. My grandchild will not be a bastard nor my daughter a harlot. You were in love enough to do the deed, now seal the deal you coward. I expect my daughter home by Monday. Am I understood?” Taehyung nods and your boss releases him, marching off.

“Did you enjoy the show Jagi?” Taehyung says, fixing his suit, looking over in the direction of where you are hiding. You pop up quickly and just stare at him. “You left your wife? And what did he mean content? Were you keeping things on me?” You feel your face flush at the thought of what he could have. “I told you we had a fight and she left. I also told you I loved you still. I thought I was over you but seeing you with him, well, it drove me mad. How could you let him touch you like that? Keep videos of what you two do together. Let him taint you like some whore.” “How dare you,” You say, moving towards him, “You are a horrible excuse for a man. I would rather be his whore than your dirty little secret.” You turn to leave but he grabs your arm, yanking you back. “Let me go.” You shout. “I won’t let him have you. You’re mine or no ones.” He warns, gripping your arm tightly. “Hey asshole!” Rebecca shouts, causing you and Taehyung to look up. She clocks him dead in the nose, breaking it. The blood immediately begins to stream down his face. He pinches his bridge trying to stop it. “You fucking bitch.” He shouts. “Touch my friend again and I’ll have my ex arrest you for assault and stalking. You can expect a restraining order from her lawyer bitch!” She spits at him, wrapping her arm around you and leading you out of the kitchen area. “Thanks for that,” You sniffle, “but I don’t think he is ever going to leave me alone.” “Don’t worry about him. He has a family and reputation to think about. I’ll call my ex and have him file a restraining order. We’ll take care of Kim Taefuckface! For now, go home, take some time off, you need to rest! I'll call you a cab.” You nod and lean your head on her shoulder while she waits with you.

You sit in the cab and allow the emotions of the night to hit you, tears streaming down your face. “You alright?” The cab driver asks. “Yeah, I’m fine thanks. Stress.” You reply, wiping your tears. You enter your building, greeting the doorman quickly as you pass to hop in the elevator. You sigh deeply thinking of how your life got so twisted. “Maybe I will take the week off.” You whisper to yourself staring at the ascending numbers in the elevator. The doors open on your floor and you get off turning the corner on your floor to find Yoongi sitting on the floor outside your apartment. He looks so tiny sitting there, chewing his thumb, not noticing you until you clear your throat. He turns to face you thumb still on his lips. “How did you?” He springs to his feet, swallowing, wiping his hands on his thighs. “I quit.” “I heard, about everything. You kept the videos? Taehyung tried to blackmail you. How could you keep this from me?” He sighs. “It was the only way to keep Taehyung from hurting you. With me out of the way, out of the company, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. Little did I know that I’d be so fired up when I spoke with the boss that I would tell him everything. Turns out he was on my side, practically begged me to stay. I’m sorry I kept the videos, that was selfish of me. It was plain stupid.” “Videos aside Yoongi, why didn’t you just tell me what was going on? I could’ve helped you; we could’ve managed this together.” “Come on kitten, would you have really been able to handle it if Taehyung leaked our sex tapes to the office? It was better if you didn’t know. Maybe I didn’t handle it the right way, but I knew I would do anything to protect you.” “Even if it means not having a job anymore?” You snap. He shrugs. “I can get a job anywhere. You, you’re one of a kind. You make me feel rich kitten, not what lines my pocket.” Your face flushes and you stutter over your words. Yoongi chuckles, moving closer to you. “It's just you and me now baby,” He whispers in your ear, pulling you into his body, “Just say you’ll be mine.” “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend Min Yoongi? I thought you didn’t do girlfriends.” He smiles against your ear. “You make me better. I’d do anything for you.” He kisses your neck softly, rubbing his fingertips up and down your bare back. “Do you wanna come in?” You whisper. “Only if I can spend the night.” He whispers, kissing you hard. “Of course, my boyfriend can spend the night.” He growls, biting your shoulder before scooping you up by the ass and carrying you to your door. You giggle loudly, trying to cover your exposed ass with your hand. “Where are your keys kitten?” “In my purse.” You dangle your purse in front of him. He pouts, dropping you to your feet so you can unlock the door.

You both enter the apartment and Frenchie jumps onto the counter immediately. “Meow!” She wails. Yoongi smiles, walking towards her. “Careful, she’s testy.” You warn, dropping your bag and keys on the table. You turn to find Yoongi scratching Frenchie under her chin, soft purrs escaping from her chest. You chuckle at the sight. “She hates everyone. She never lets people touch her.” “Well, she has good taste, like her mother.” He tells you, leaning down now to plant tiny kisses on her nose. You full on laugh now, covering your mouth in shock. “If she bites your face off, I am not liable.” He laughs at your comment, whispering sweet nothings to Frenchie. “Do you want a drink? I have water, beer, or juice.” You offer. “I’m good.” You nod, grabbing a water for yourself and heading over to the couch to remove your heels. “Make yourself comfortable.” You say, unhooking the straps. He plants a heavy kiss on Frenchie’s head before turning to slide out of his jacket. He plops down next to you on the couch, tapping his lap for you to give him your foot. You oblige and he unhooks your shoes for you. “Thank you.” You smile at him, wiggling your toes. Frenchie jumps up on the couch beside him. “Looks like you got competition kitten.” He smiles towards you.

“Don’t worry she will tire of you eventually. Even I bore her at times, and I’m the one that feeds her.” He nods, rubbing your feet gently. “Maybe we should go to the other room.” He suggests. You laugh. “Why?” “I don’t want her to see all the naughty things I’m about to do to her mother.” His explains, standing up and reaching for your hand. “Oh, um.” You stutter. “Fuck it turns me on when you do that.” He almost growls, pulling you up from the couch. He plants a soft kiss on your lips, taking your ass in his large hands. He lifts you off your feet and begins walking you towards your bedroom, sure to never break your locked lips. You begin to wriggle free once in the bedroom, feeling him try to lower you onto the bed. “Something wrong kitten.” He whispers over your lips. “It's my turn to make you feel good.” He chuckles softly, lowering you to your feet. “Ok baby. What do you have in mind?” He gives you a sly grin, cocking his head to the side. You feel your face flush. Your belly tingling with your need, excitement overcoming you. He had usually denied you the chance to please him but now he stood before you, eyes lit up, waiting for you to make a move. You swallow hard, pushing him back towards the bed until he’s seated. You grab the thin straps of your dress and slowly bring them down, exposing your bare breast, your nipples standing at attention when the cold air hits them. Yoongi swallows hard watching your dress drop to the floor; You stand before him in nothing but your thong, tugging at your aching nipples. “You’re so sexy kitten, do you know that?” He praises, palming himself through his pants. You move toward him, capturing his lips with yours. He grips your ass tightly with one hand, kneading at the tender flesh of your breast with the other. He releases a deep moan at the feel of you dig your fingers into his hair and tug his head back. You trail kisses along his jaw and down his long neck, suckling on the smooth skin until small red marks form.

He sucks in a breath, bringing one of his large hands down onto your ass with a loud slap. You gasp at the sting that burns through your body, clenching around nothing. “Does my little kitten like that?” He asks breathlessly, rubbing the area softly. You nod quickly, licking your lips, watching desire spread across his face. “Tell me what you want baby. I want you so bad, my cock is so hard for you.” He pants, palming at his erection once again. You moan lustfully, dropping your hand to take over rubbing at his trapped member. He leans back on his arms, watching you tug at his belt, unzipping his pants. He smiles seductively, lifting his hips off the bed just enough for you to pull his pants and underwear down to free his cock. You gasp at the sight of his large member, taking a moment to drink it in. It’s the fattest, longest dick you’ve ever seen, curling up to rest above his belly button. The prominent veins bulging with every breath he takes, his fat swollen tip spilling pre-cum onto his belly. You bite your lip wondering if it’ll fit in your mouth let alone your cunt. “You don’t have to do anything baby. I know it can be intimidating and I don’t want to overwhelm you. We can just take care of you tonight.” He replies at the sight of your apprehension. “No, I want to. It’s just…. big.” He laughs at your comment, grabbing his cock tightly, pumping it up and down, in long languid strokes. Your mouth waters at the sight. You watch him carefully before moving your hands up to take his cock from him, taking over the painfully slow strokes. He moans softly, thrusting up into your closed fist, causing more and more of his lustful pre-cum to spill from his tip. He soon yanks off his button down with ease, pulling at your nipple to illicit a yelp from your lips.

You lower one of your hands, looking up at Yoongi for a sign that its ok. He nods, sucking in a breath as you cup his balls, kneading them in your palm. The sight of his swollen tip dripping down your hand has your pussy gushing. “Can I...” You lick your lips as you continue to caress his heavy sack. Yoongi watches you under hooded lids as you drop your head, capturing one of his balls in your mouth. “Oh, fuck!” He cries out. You feel your thong stick to your folds as you rub your thighs together, taking the other ball into your mouth and moaning around it. Yoongi pants desperately into the room, head back as you slurp and tongue at his scrotum. Completely turned on by Yoongi’s lustful display, you move up and begin to lap at the precum that has made its way down your fingers. Yoongi drops his head down to look at you, a small growl escaping as you take his entire head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his engorged tip. He releases a relived sigh when you push up on your knees, taking more of him into your throat. “Fuck kitten. You don’t know how good this feels.” You hum around his cock, bobbing up and down, hollowing out your cheeks as you arrive back up to his tip. You slowly lower your head onto his thick length again, this time trying to swallow back more of him causing yourself to gag. “Yeah baby, just like that.” He encourages, gripping the sheets. You drop down lower almost reaching his pubic area, gagging freely on his cock, tears forming at your eyes. Yoongi’s eyes roll back, his pants filling the room. You soon come up for air, wiping at your swollen mouth quickly before swallowing him down again. You bob up and down again, not taking him as deep this time, instead using your hands to pump the area not in your mouth. You moan around him, feeling his hands grip your hair, curses quietly escaping his lips. “Fuck kitten, you should stop now or else I’m gonna cum down your tight little throat.” You lift your head off his cock, looking up at him, “Do it daddy, gag me with your cock, fuck my throat, cum for me please. Treat me like your sexy little slut.” You beg lustfully. “You don’t know what you're saying.” He pants. “I’m saying I want daddy to take control of me, all of me. I don’t want to be your little kitten tonight but your sexy. Little. Whore.” He curses under his breath, grabbing a fist full of your hair and guiding you back to his throbbing member.

You moan in approval, relaxing your jaw. He groans deeply, gripping your hair tighter as he works you up and down his length. He begins to hitch his hips upward, your uncontrollable drool aiding the tip of his cock past your uvula and into your throat with ease. You grip his thighs tightly gagging freely on his cock, drool dripping down his balls. “Such a good cock sleeve for daddy.” He praises, fucking into your mouth faster. He grips your hair super tight now, to keep your head from moving as he lunges his cock in and out of your mouth, fucking your face with ease. “Oh kitten, oh fuck, such a good girl for daddy. Uh, fuck baby, I’m cumming. I'm cumming.” Your eyes widen as his warm seed shoots down your throat, filling your mouth to the brim. You gag a bit, attempting to swallow back his load, feeling a bit of it seep past your lips. He growls quietly, thrusting through his high. He soon pulls you off his still rock-hard cock and into a sloppy kiss. “That was so fucking hot baby. Let me repay the favor.” “No, I’m so wet. I need you inside of me.” You stand now, peeling off your thong, reaching out for Yoongi’s body to mount him. He digs in his pocket and pulls out a condom. You whine watching him stick the wrapper in his mouth to tear it open, his reddened cock rubbing at your hovering folds. He rolls the condom down his member slowly and you know now he’s teasing you. “Please, hurry up.” You mewl. He smirks when he’s done and you grunt loudly, grabbing his cock tightly and spreading your legs wide, lowering yourself onto his cock. “Such a greedy cock whore.” Your mouths drop open as his tip pushes into your entrance.

You suck in a breath, feeling the sting of his shaft stretch your cunt. “Ah, fuck,” You whimper, biting your lip trying to push down further onto his thick length, “I can’t, it won’t fit. You’re too big.” He chuckles softly, kneading the flesh of your breast. He kisses the juncture between your neck and shoulder gently, moving up to your ear. “Lie back baby. Daddy’s got you.” You pout dismounting him, lying back on the bed as you’re told. He lowers himself between your thighs, gliding his tongue along your slit before twirling it around your sensitive bud. You cry out at the feeling. He rolls his tongue ever so slowly along your clit, building your climax. You feel your coil twisting and begin to grind against his face. He smirks into your cunt, lowering himself down further to enter you with his tongue. You gasp, gripping his hair, to guide him. He thrust in and out of your entrance with ease as your slick soon trails down to the bed. Seemingly satisfied, Yoongi brings his lips back up to your clit, rolling his tongue once again. You widen your legs, moaning loudly into the room, yanking on his dark messy locks. He brings up his hand and enters you with two fingers, spreading his fingers in a wide scissor motion to prep you for his cock. You gasp at the sensation, feeling your body tremble with your oncoming orgasm. “Daddy, please don't stop, please.” You cry out, focused on his meticulous scissor motion and slow roll of the tongue. “God, Yoongi, feels so fucking good.” Yoongi curls his fingers up, rubbing at the soft flesh deep inside you, your eyes roll back as your back arches, your orgasm washing over you in hot waves. Yoongi groans, still lapping at your core until your body plops down onto the bed, dropping down from your high. He raises his head, your slick glistening on his lips and nose. He crawls up your body, hovering above you, eyes blown with lust. “Clean your mess off my face whore.” He demands. “Yes daddy.” You reply meekly, picking your head up off the mattress to lick your cum from his lips. You moan lustfully with each lap, swallowing down your sweet nectar.

“That’s enough.” He growls, catching your lips in a hard kiss. You melt back into the mattress, spreading your legs wide enough for Yoongi to watch himself rub his tip through your folds, your body trembling uncontrollably. “Just relax baby. Deep breath.” You nod at his comforting tone. He takes you by the hips, lining up his cock with your entrance. You nod at him, feeling your pussy drench itself in anticipation of his large member. Your mouth falls open as his tip breaches your cunt, this time with ease. He continues to roll his hips forward, gliding in with the help of your slickness and stretching you to the brim. He hisses at the feel of your walls clamp around him, massaging and clenching with every thrust. “You’re so tight baby, so fucking amazing. You feel so good around my cock. Take me so well. You’re made for me.” He groans in your ear, the sound of both of your moans filling the room. You grip tightly on his ass, pulling him deeper inside of you, wondering why you were ever nervous in the first place. This was perfect, he was perfect. He smiles seductively, looking down at you, wrapping his large hands around yours, “And you thought I wasn’t gonna fit?” You giggle at his comment, leaning up to kiss him gently. “Fuck me,” You pant, “please, like those other girls. I want to be everything you want and more.” He shakes his head, “You’re more than I could ever want. I don’t deserve you, I’m just happy you chose me.” “Don’t go easy on me because you think I can’t handle it. I want you, all of you.” “Oh, I know kitten, I’m quite enjoying you fucking yourself on my cock.” You look down, realizing Yoongi had stopped moving, that you were the one keeping the pace. “Oh kitten, don’t stop, it feels good when you milk my cock.” You moan lustfully, rolling your hips again. Yoongi watches the show more intently this time, adjusting his hips so your clit is gliding along his shaft. “Fuck me daddy. Fuck me hard. Make me scream.” Yoongi moans from deep within his chest. “Oh baby, you really don’t know what you’re asking.” “Don’t treat me like some porcelain doll. I may, as you say, dress like one but I’m no nun. Now fuck me! Show me what this fat cock can do.” You shout, dropping your hand down between your bodies to tug on his full balls. “Shit kitten, you have no idea what you’re in for.” “All talk and no action.” You tease, licking up his face. He scoffs briefly, pulling out of you and flipping you over in one fell swoop, knocking the wind out of you. He uses his knees to part your legs, pulling your hips so your ass is high in the air. He drops his large open hand down on the thick flesh of your bottom, the sting burning through your body. You cry out as he comes down two more times. “Yoongi.” You pant. He grabs a handful of your hair, tugging your head back to whisper in your ear. “No no whore. Its daddy from here on out. Call me by my name again and I’ll paint this gorgeous ass red, understand?” You nod frantically, feeling your core heat, you juices flowing freely. “Good girl. No warning this time baby.” He whispers into your ear, taking both of your arms behind your back before slamming his cock into your soaked cunt. You scream out into your bedroom. Yoongi holds wrist together in one hand, gripping your hip in the other, fucking into your pussy like a madman. Your body shivers beneath him, your cunt clenching, juices leaking and coating his cock, aiding him further into you. “Oh, god! Yes. Fuck me daddy, fuck me so good.” Yoongi groans, slamming into you harder, his breathing becoming labored. He pulls out if you with a growl, pushing you down onto your left side. “Hold your leg up.” He pants, pushing your right leg up into your chest. Yoongi slaps your full ass before pushing the flesh of your right cheek up to expose your battered cunt to him. He effortlessly enters you, gripping and caressing at your plump glute while rotating his hips upwards, fucking into your pussy gently. He drops his head back, cursing quietly to himself. You watch him carefully, drinking in his lean body, how his hair sticks to his sweaty forehead. You moan at the sight of him bite his lip when you clench down on his cock. He’s never been hotter than in this moment.

“I want to ride you.” You whimper, breaking his focus, he tilts his head down to look at you. His dark eyes flooded with lust. “Beg me.” “What?” “Beg daddy to let you ride his cock.” You smile slightly, gripping your own ass cheek now to spread yourself further apart for him. “Please daddy, please, may I ride your cock?” He bites his lip, still fucking into you. “Please daddy, I want to make you cum. Cum in my pussy.” You mewl. He hums, leaning forward to take your mouth in a sloppy kiss before pulling out of you. You move over so he can lie back on the bed. You mount him, hovering over his erection. “Can we take this off?” Yoongi eyes you suspiciously, watching you tug at the base of the condom. “I want to feel all of you. I want you to have all of me, like no one ever has. Not even Taehyung. I want you to coat my walls full of your desire for me.” Yoongi pants hard, his cheeks flushed. He swallows hard, “I’ve never done that before. It isn’t something I do.” He replies. “I understand.” You grasp him at the root and begin to lower yourself onto him slowly. “Wait,” He stops you, “It’s me and you baby. I trust you.” He drops his hand between you both and removes the latex from his member. You descend again, dropping your head back at the newfound closeness. He digs his fingers into your hips, mouth agape as you descend to the root. You start with a slow steady pace, savoring every ridge of Yoongi’s glorious cock, that is, until Yoongi leans forward, wrapping his arm around your waist, thrusting upwards, fucking into you with a rapid pace. He whimpers a bit, biting his lip to hold back any further cries from falling from his lips. He rests his forehead against your collar bone, thrusting up harder and faster, his breath hitching in his throat. You moan out loud, a cry escaping, when his tip hits your cervix, jumping up a bit. Yoongi pulls you back down to meet his thrust, not wanting to separate from you in this moment. You feel your body ignite and your pussy clench hard around him. “Fuck baby, do that again, feels so fucking good. You feel so amazing. Fucking heaven. I can feel your fucking walls trembling. Cum on my cock baby.” “My god.” You wail, your eyes rolling as you feel a great warmth start at the top of your head and burn down to your toes. Your whole-body tingles and you lean forward, pushing Yoongi onto his back, resting your hands on his chest, lifting your hips ravenously to continue to chase this high. The sounds of your ass slapping against Yoongi's thighs fill your ears right before your animal like groan. “Fuck kitten, don’t stop, I’m cumming. God, I’m fucking cumming.” Your breath quickens and you grip Yoongi's chest harder, riding him faster. He cries out unabashedly, gripping your ass to aid your body up and down his length. Your climax slowly pours over your whole body at the feeling of Yoongi’s cock twitching inside you, his release warming your walls, filling you to the brim. Tears form in your eyes at the euphoric feeling that washes over you. Yoongi sits up slowly and plants kisses over the tears that fall. “I love you Yoongi,” You cry into the nape of his neck, “I know its too soon but I know what love feels like and this is it.” He wraps your legs around his waist, pulling you closer to him. “I love you too Y/N. Its never too soon or too late. What’s meant to be will be. I knew the moment I was ready to give up everything for you.” You pull away from him to look in his eyes. “Really?” He nods, kissing you softly. “What now? I got you fired.” You look away, wiping your tears. “I quit baby. I did NOT get fired. Now we move forward. You and me, everything else is just background noise. I've never been happier.” You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.

The following morning, you wake to an empty room. You look around wondering if it was all a dream. Fortunately for you, the deep throb between your legs tells you it wasn't. Not to mention the smell of bacon in the air. You get up and wrap your robe around your body, walking out to the kitchen. You smile to see Yoongi on the phone cooking while Frenchie sits counter top watching him. “Yes sir. Thank you sir. Of course, I completely understand. Not a problem. OK. Take care, see you Monday.” Your brow furrows watching Yoongi toss his phone on the counter. “Good morning kitten.” “Good morning. Did I just hear you say, ‘See you Monday?’” He nods, putting a piece of bacon in his mouth. “The boss called, told me my offer still stands, apologized for all the nonsense. Head of graphics. Has a nice ring to it huh?” You squeal, running into his arms and kissing him firmly. “That's amazing. I thought I was going to have to support your ass.” He laughs out loud, kissing you again. “One condition, you and I cant work on projects together anymore.” You shrug at the news. “As long as I have you in my bed at night, I don't care about any office intermingling.” His brows shoot up and he turns the stove off, sliding his hands up your thighs. “Yoongi, I have to feed Frenchie.” He kisses into the crook of your neck. “Daddy took care of that already. Daddy is going to take care of everything from now on,” You giggle now as Yoongi lifts you off your feet, walking you to the bedroom, “that means we skip to the part where we get to intermingle.”

Tag List: 

@thatbish27 @thatoneweirdgurl17 @140503at-dawn @agooddeedinawearyworld @xduygu-arsx​

#bts smut #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi smut

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

My Best Friend’s Brother (Virgil/Remus/Janus/Patton fic part 2/2)

Part 1

Word count: 2193

Rating: teen

Pairings: Virgil/Remus/Janus/Patton (intrumoxeit?), logince

Warnings: minor swearing, suggestive language (mostly from Remus), minor contortion

~~~START~~~

“WAKE UP, THOT!” Roman startles awake as his door hits the wall with a loud bang. Remus stands in the doorway grinning at him.

“Remus, what the fuck?” Roman groans. He wants to pull the covers over his head and just ignore his brother, but if he does that, he won’t have the slight advantage of being able to see whatever Remus is about to do. So he settles for just glaring. 

“We’re going out to breakfast with all of our boyfriends!” Remus declares. “You’re going to be nice to my boyfriends, and I won’t make unsolicited comments about your boyfriend’s ass, dick, or mouth!”

“I hate you,” Roman groans. 

“Love you too, Roro!” Remus clutches a hand over his heart before turning to leave. “Get dressed or I’ll drag you there in your pjs!” He calls behind him. 

Roman throws his pillow through the open door, but Remus is already gone. Instead of chasing his brother down, Roman gets dressed because Remus will drag him out in his pajamas otherwise. 

There’s two texts on his phone when he pulls it off the charger.

From Crofters Slut @ 6:15am: Virgil Knight is a student in our year. He won that art competition last year that Remus was in. I’m surprised you don’t know who he is. 

Even with the hint, Roman has no idea who Virgil is. He vaguely remembers the art competition, but mostly, he remembers being salty that his piece hadn’t even qualified for it, and then being salty again when Remus didn’t win. There is absolutely nothing in his memory about who won, what they looked like, or what piece they’d entered. 

The second text is:

From Padre Puffball @ 7:54am: Hi Roman! I hope you slept well. I was hoping that you’d be willing to get breakfast today? You, me, Logan, Remus, Janus, and Virgil? Please? I know you don’t like Janus and Virgil, and you’re not happy that I’m dating your brother, but I really like them, and I think you would too if you’d just give them a chance (maybe not as much as I like them, but enough to be friends?) I’ll text the others too, but I do hope you come! Love Patton 💖🐶

And honestly, even if Remus wasn’t going to forcefully drag him to this breakfast, there’s no way Roman could ever say ‘no’ to Patton. So when Remus comes back, Roman is fully dressed, and in the process of applying his eyeliner. 

“C’mon, princess, let’s go!” Remus insists, but he does resist the urge to pull on Roman’s arm and ruin his makeup and possibly cause Roman to stab the pencil into his eye. 

“I have to finish this first! Logan’s going to be there and a prince has got to slay!” Roman replies. 

Remus rolls his eyes. “You just got back from spending two months sharing a room with him! He’s definitely seen you without makeup before.”

“Noooo, I woke up earlier than him specifically so he’d never see me without my makeup!” 

“Roro, you are the most pathetic thot I’ve ever met. And I’m including myself. How early did you have to wake up to be up before him?”

“...four-thirty am,” Roman admits slowly, refusing to meet his brother’s eyes in the mirror. 

“Excuse me while I go barf!” Remus giggles. “You woke up, at ass o’clock in the morning, so that Nerdy Wolverine wouldn’t see you without your makeup?”

“Yeah, well I’ll bet you showered daily while I was gone!” Roman shoots back. “In fact, you’re smelling pretty fresh over there. Did you perhaps shower already this morning?”

“I’ll admit to nothing!” Remus screeches. “Hurry up, we have to pick up Jan.”

“I have to be in a car with that freak!?” 

“If you ever call any of my boyfriends ‘freaks’ again, I’ll rip off your nipples and shove them so far up your nose they’ll lodge inside your brain!” Remus yells, angrier than Roman’s ever seen him. “Assuming you even have a brain.”

“Why you-!”

They pull up to Janus’ house forty-five minutes late. 

“I don’t know why I trusted you to pick me up on time,” Janus comments as he slides into the backseat. “You’re always so punctual.”

“Hi JJ!” Remus greets chipperly, completely ignoring Janus’ annoyance. “I told Roman to sit in the back but he refused.”

“I was here first!” Roman insists stubbornly. 

“He also called you freak,” Remus tattles. 

“I didn’t mean-!” Roman turns to Janus quickly while he tries to explain himself, but Janus just smirks. 

“Well I suppose being able to do this makes me a little bit of a freak.”

Remus doesn’t even have to look to know that Jan dislocated his shoulder and twisted his arm around his head unnaturally, Roman scream tells him everything he needs to know. Remus has to pull off to the side of the road because he’s laughing so hard. 

It takes them almost fifteen minutes to get to the cafe, which is longer than it should take to get there from Janus’ house, but Remus had needed time to calm down from his laughing fit. Roman hadn’t spoken the entire drive over, and Jan was looking pretty satisfied with himself. 

So, coming into the cafe over an hour late, it’s not that hard to find his boyfriends and the Dork (hehe, whale penis). They’re in one of the semi-circle booths with Patton sitting between Virgil and Logan. It looks like Virgil and Logan are in the middle of a conversation, which is good, until, ya know, Roman has to go and ruin it. 

“EMO NIGHTMARE!?” Roman screeches at the top of his lungs. It causes the whole cafe to come to a screeching halt as everyone stops to stare at them. Virgil stiffens, shoulders coming up to his ears and he quickly throws his hood over his head. Logan sends Roman an unimpressed look. 

“Wonderful. Excellent. Thank you, Roman,” Janus mutters, already making his way over to the others. 

“Indoor voices, Roro.” Remus nudges his brother as he passes. 

“You’re dating Emo Nightmare!?” Roman hisses, quietly enough that Remus is the only one who can hear him. “Actually, back up. You know Emo Nightmare? Emo Nightmare has friends?”

“His name is Virgil, Roman,” Remus says, not bothering to dignify Roman’s questions with an answer. “And you promised to be nice.”

“I was startled,” Roman answers petulantly. 

Remus doesn’t dignify that with an answer either, instead he ignores Roman and goes to join his boyfriends at the table. Janus has already reached the table, and has his arm wrapped protectively around Virgil’s shoulders. Remus slides into the booth next to Janus, leaving the space next to Logan open for Roman. 

“You’re late,” Logan informs them once Roman’s taken his seat. 

“Only by like an hour,” Remus replies cheerfully, grabbing a menu and perusing the breakfast options. 

“We already ordered,” Patton informs him gently. “You’re getting the breakfast sausage platter, Janus is getting a veggie omelet, and Roman’s getting pancakes with a side of eggs.”

“The sausages look like dicks!” Remus said, quietly enough that only the table next to them send him weird glances. 

Virgil snorts from under his hood, so Remus counts it as a win. 

“Charming,” Logan says, years of being friends with Roman have rendered Remus’s antics to little more than background noise. 

“So, Nerdy Wolverine, why Roman?” Remus asks, after all, that’s what this breakfast is for, right? Grilling Logan on why he has such bad taste in men? “He’s sooooooo… ugly.”

“WE HAVE THE SAME FACE!”

“BUT I WEAR IT SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU!”

“Stop yelling!” Virgil hisses, finally leaving the safety of his hood. “We’re in public!”

“Besides,” Patton chimes in. “That’s mean! You’re both very handsome!”

“At least I don’t have a fuzzy caterpillar on my face,” Roman mutters petulantly, but any further argument is thankfully cut off by the waiter bringing out their food. 

“Thank you!” Patton calls as the waiter leaves

“Well,” Logan sighs. “After that little display I have no idea why I like Roman.”

“What!? No! Logan!” Roman whines. Logan just rolls his eyes and kisses Roman on the cheek, effectively placating him. 

“I am more surprised by you, Patton,” Logan continues, raising an eyebrow at his friend. “When we left, you were still afraid to be within thirty yards of Janus. I’m surprised you got over your fear so completely in such a short amount of time.”

“Logan!” Patton yelps, hiding his blush in Virgil’s shoulders. It doesn’t work out too well since Virgil’s shoulders are shaking from laughter. 

“Patton, I’m so insulted that you’d be afraid of me,” Janus drawls. “I was trying so hard to seem nice and approachable.”

“I’m so sorry Janus!” Patton apologizes from his place hiding in Virgil’s shoulder. 

“Don't apologize, Pat,” Virgil assures him, patting the side of his head awkwardly. “He wants people to be afraid of him. He was so happy when he realized he got a scar from flgmmn!”

Janus clamps a gloved-hand over Virgil’s mouth quickly, pulling his head against his chest to stop his struggling. 

“Nothing!” Janus hisses quickly. “Absolutely nothing. Nothing to see here!”

Virgil bats his hands at Janus’ head, but the angle makes it hard to land any solid hit. 

Remus laughs, and Patton just grabs one of Virgil’s hands and kisses it apologetically, neither of them try to help him. 

“Janus won’t let Virgil tell anyone how he got his scar,” Remus explains between giggles. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Janus says dismissively as Virgil goes limp. “Are you trying to bite my hand?”

“Kinky!”

The rest of breakfast continues… somewhat normally, of course Janus has Virgil pinned the entire time, and as a result, neither of them end up finishing their food. Roman’s determination to pout lasts all of twenty minutes, but then Janus started quoting Shakespeare and well… maybe Janus isn’t so bad after all. 

“Romeo and Juliet isn't a love story,” Janus argues, he’s still covering Virgil’s mouth even though it’s been half an hour, and Virgil has long since stopped struggling. “It’s about two stupid kids that make dumb decisions and get the people around them killed.”

“You take that back!” Roman gasps, clutching his chest as though he’s been stabbed. “Romeo and Juliet is a story about star-crossed lovers and overcoming life’s obstacles!”

“What obstacles did they overcome Roman? They both died in the end.”

“Sorry to interrupt, kiddos,” Patton butts in before their argument can get any more heated. “But Jan, do you think you can let Virgil go now? He hasn’t eaten yet.”

Janus glances down at Virgil consideringly and the emo just gives him his most innocent expression. “Fine.”

Janus releases Virgil but continues to watch him suspiciously. In turn, Virgil just starts shoveling omelet into his mouth. After a moment, Janus seems satisfied and returns to his argument. 

“And their own deaths could have been avoided if Romeo had just-”

“JANUS FELL OFF HIS BIKE!” Virgil blurts out suddenly. 

“TRAITOR!”

This starts a scuffle between the two that has Remus cackling like a madman. 

They get kicked out of the restaurant.

Well… Janus, Virgil, and Remus get kicked out of the restaurant, Patton, Roman, and Logan get told that they can stay if they don’t cause anymore scenes. 

In the end they only stay long enough for Roman to pay for everyone’s food (because he’s a gentleman… and because he’s rich, but mostly because he’s a gentleman), and Patton to get the rest of Virgil and Janus’ omelets in a to-go box. 

Remus and Janus are clearly having some sort of argument when Roman and the others make it outside, but the only part Roman manages to catch is Remus saying “calm down Peewee Herman!”

“Patton is officially my favorite boyfriend,” Janus pouts, maneuvering himself so that Patton is in between him and their other two boyfriends. Patton doesn't seem to mind, planting a kiss on Janus cheek that majorly undermines his edgy facade. “You two are dead to me.”

“Only on the inside,” Virgil responds sagely. 

“You love us Janny!” Remus crows, outmaneuvering Janus’ human wall by pulling both Patton and Janus into a bone-crushing hug. 

A funny feeling develops in Roman’s stomach as he watches the four of them interact. They all clearly like each other, and Patton seems so genuinely happy trapped between Remus and Janus. Maybe Roman overreacted last night. 

“Well?” Logan asks quietly, slipping his hand easily into Roman’s. 

“I was wrong,” Roman answers, finally dragging his gaze away from his brother, his best friend, and their boyfriends to look Logan in the eye. Logan is giving him that soft smile that makes Roman’s heart thud. “They’re cute together.”

“Patton seems happy,” Logan agrees. “Though I do believe that, objectively, we’re the cuter couple.”

“Yeah,” Roman agrees as Janus lets out an indignant squawk. 

Turning around, Roman finds the Virgil had obviously tried to join the group hug and ended up toppling them over, leaving Janus on the ground with Virgil sprawled over his back, Remus and Patton lying in a heap next to them, all of them laughing.

“Objectively.”

~~~END~~~

Whoo! Finally finished the second part, I’ll probs post this on AO3 tomorrow

There will be more in this universe (currently working on a Virgil!centric one that deals a little bit more with them getting together

Taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @the-sunshine-dims @taylorxoxo22 @oatmealoatmealoatmealoatmealoatm @captain-otis-dante @007ardra @fandomfan315 @sophiexteresa @smolemopotato @contemplativespectrum @theyluna-womoon @queer-chair @your-gay-enby-highness @sanderssides-angst @idont-freaking-know @marshymoop @imlovethomassanders @sourshadowling @frogsandcookies @aricana8 @cute-and-angsty-princess

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts dark sides #virgil sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #thursday writes #logince #patton x virgil x remus x janus #anceit #intruceit #intruxiety #intruality #moxiety #mociet #intrumoxeit #patton x dark sides au

[pixieungerstories]

Quarantine -3

It would have been nice to have something other than the word of a shadow to go on.  I stared at the ceiling.  I wished I had a cat or a dog or - hell - a pet hamster.  Some other living thing in the house.  I had no idea what Nick was but I wasn’t entirely sure he counted as a living thing.

“Humans who don’t sleep start to hallucinate,”  I muttered to myself.  Maybe if I actually got some shut eye, I would wake up and this would all be a dream.  “Fuck it.”  I got undressed and crawled under the covers.  I settled under the covers, then realized I was facing the closet, so I rolled over.  Having the door in my blind spot wasn’t necessarily better.

“Nick?”  I wasn’t really expecting an answer.  “Can you move the bed to another room?”

“I can.  I don’t want to.  I like having you where I can see you.”

I nodded.  “I’ll go sit in the kitchen until dawn.”

“Go! To! Sleep!”

I jumped then started to shake.  “Yelling at me isn’t going to help me sleep,” I muttered.

The bedroom door slammed shut.  Rattling the door knob and pulling as hard as I could didn’t make it budge.  “Please don’t do this,” I whimpered, then I screamed as something brushed my face.

The door opened suddenly enough that I unbalanced and fell on my ass, but a moment later I was running down the stairs and out the front door.  I was at the gate before I knew what I was doing.

The cops were still right there.

“You need to go back inside ma’am!” the closest one called.  After that they were all looking at me.  

I paced for a moment, uncomfortably aware how odd I was behaving.  I needed to get out of here.  I needed a smoke.  I needed to stop acting weird before they decided I had killed my neighbours.

Oh god.  I was trapped in a house with a creature that probably killed the looters.

I didn’t want to face the idea that Nick was a killer.

“Ma’am!  Go inside!”

“I saw what happened on the news,” I explained.  “It’s giving me nightmares and I’ve been stuck in that house for more than a month.  I wasn’t expecting to be quarantined in a construction site.”

“Be that as it may, you need to go back inside,” the patrolman called.

“I’m more than six feet away from you.  Can’t I just stay out here near some other people and the street lights? Please?”

“You aren’t exactly dressed for the weather,” he pointed out.  

I crossed my arms over my chest as I realized I was standing on my lawn in my night dress.  I should go in and at least get my robe.  It was in the room with Nick’s closet.

I thought about just confessing to something so that I could go with them.  Prison wouldn’t have Nick.  Maybe I just needed a hospital.  No.  That was a death sentence these days.

He was driving me off.  He had flat out told me that he was good at that.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“No!” I snapped.  “I’m scared.”

He gave me a pitying look but still insisted, “You need to go inside now.  You will be safe in your house.”

I snorted, and swatted at the bugs that had found me.

“Go inside,” he said gently.  “The last thing you need is to catch something from the mosquitos.”

I nodded slowly and headed back in to sit in the kitchen.  Maybe he would let me make a pot of coffee.  When I got inside the lights in the kitchen was on and the bed was set up on the main floor.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You’re welcome.  This is temporary.  You will sleep upstairs when the walls are repaired.

The next morning I got a phone call ordering me out into the garden as a forklift delivered a load of drywall.  It was left in the middle of the floor next to my bed.  I looked at it.   Nick’s voice was too close to my ear, “Someone will come hang in tomorrow.”

“How did you pay for this?”

“You have an excellent credit rating and you aren’t spending much of your money.”

“Great.  Did they say how long it would take?”

There was no answer to that.

“I guess drywallers wear masks all the time anyway,”  I mused.   “At least there will be some other people around.”

“Yes.”

I didn’t have walls the next day.  In fact things were worse as the last of the lath and plaster was taken down.  They found hundreds of razor blades in the wall in the bathroom.  The construction guys assured me that it was normal to find all kinds of weird things in the walls of old houses, but they still looked uncomfortable that it was razor blades and that some of them were more bloody than you would expect from a mere shaving accident.  I spent the night picking them up with tweezers and dropping them into a jar for safe disposal.  Nick didn’t say a word and the lights stayed on that night.

One half the team turned up the next day.  No one commented on why that was.

I ordered a hammock and a grill for the backyard.  I got the hammock but someone had changed the grill to a chiminea when I wasn’t looking.  It was nice, but I couldn’t cook on it.  My order had also been edited to include a bunch of bug repellant candles and some sunscreen.  I tried to figure out if that was something a shadow creature would actually do or was this another sign that I was losing my mind.

Either way, I worked on the concrete table out back at the very limit of the wifi during the day and concentrated on fixing up the yard after official work hours.

One of the drywallers sold me a patio umbrella.

I also got the lecture that just because the walls were up didn’t mean that it was safe to use the shower.  

“You still have to get a membrane installed and your tiles up and sealed,” the guy explained.

I nodded, “You don’t happen to know a tile guy that is still working?”

He frowned, “I’ll ask around.  Do you have tiles yet?”

“No,” I admitted.

“That might be the hard part.  You can still find a few guys willing to come out, but all the factories are shut down.”

“Shit.”

He gave me a look of sympathy.  “Yeah.  There are stories of people doing penny walls or using their grandma’s china to tile just so they have a working bathroom.”

“I don’t have either of those things,” I said sadly.

He nodded, “I’ll ask around.  It isn’t a big project and people might have some leftovers.”

Given how protective Nick was of the house I should have expected his warning.    I was still unimpressed to see “no ugly tile” written on the drywall in the morning.  Still, he could have used the last of my lipstick and instead had found a pencil somewhere.  I tried to ignore it as I brushed my teeth.  I didn’t even have a mirror over the sink.  Grumbling around the toothbrush I realized, “Fuck.  I’m the only person who could buy a haunted house where the ghost had been watching too much HGTV.”

That earned me a creepy house shaking laugh and proof that he hadn’t just left.

“It’s your fault,” he purred in my ear.  “You are the one who fell asleep all those nights with decorating shows playing on repeat on your computer.”

I sighed. “Yeah, it was,” I agreed sadly.  “If I hadn’t would you be haunting me right now?”

“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the value in what you are doing and I wouldn’t have spent a week keeping you alive when you got sick.  Perhaps you would have been haunting me.”

I frowned, “I wasn’t sick for a week!  It was only a couple of days!”

“You should check your calendar.  It was a couple of days of you being sick and a week of me forcing you to breathe.”

“There is no way I lost a week without noticing!”

He didn’t say anything.  When I checked my calendar there were nearly two weeks missing.  I told myself it didn’t mean anything.  Nick used my computer, he could have just deleted the information.  I could just call work or Penny or someone and ask how long I was away for.

I kind of didn’t want to.  What if he was telling the truth?

I took my coffee and toast and ate breakfast outside, once again wishing for a cigarette.  Nick had never left the house, as far as I knew, and I didn’t want to talk to him just then.  This was ridiculous!  Shadow monsters didn’t … do that!  They didn’t … exist.  I was just …  this wasn’t happening!

I was out of coffee and the coldness of the concrete bench was soaking through my night shirt and into my ass.  I had left the folded towel I used as a cushion inside overnight so it wouldn’t get damp.  Now I was cold and damp instead.  Fuck.

When I made it back to the kitchen, my laptop was open and had apparently been searching for bathroom tiles.  ‘Fine.  Whatever.  Pick something nice that I can afford.”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to do, but contacting a local stained glass artist wasn’t it.  I really wasn’t expecting her to check if it was OK if my boyfriend picked out the design since it was my credit card that was paying for it.

I was afraid to ask, but I had to know, “What did he pick?”

Nancy cleared her throat, “Well, originally he wanted a reproduction of a stained glass window from Maison Schott in France.  But when we talked about how complicated it would be for a tiler to install that, he settled on a simpler rose on trellis pattern.”

  I set down the phone to close my eyes and scrub my face.  “Do you like what he picked out?”  She seemed a little taken aback by the question.  “Yes?  It’s a little modern for your age of house, but it’s a nice piece and will be easy to install.  It mostly uses different textured white glass, so it would be in keeping with a white bathroom. I can have it ready next week.  I’m not exactly over run with work right now.”  She paused before she added, “I’ll send you some sketches and if there is anything you need changed, just let me know.  I could really use the income, to be honest.”

“Yeah.  I understand that.  I guess I’m just doing my part to keep the economy running.”

“I really appreciate that.   The whole ‘buy local’ movement ended when we weren’t allowed to leave our houses,”  Nancy pointed out.

“Ok.  Send me the sketches and the quote and I’ll get back to you in the next couple of days.”

I lay in bed that night and looked at the newly drywalled dining room ceiling.  “What are you doing, Nick?”

“Making a home for you,” he whispered.

“Can I even afford this?  You don’t have a secret money vault hidden in the walls with the razor blades, do you?”

There was a long moment of silence, then he whispered, “You could sell the wine instead of drinking it.”

I froze.  “Just because it’s old doesn’t mean that it’s valuable,” I pointed out.

Something caressed my calf as he purred his reply, “But it is.”

I closed my eyes and let my body melt into the mattress.   My breath caught in my throat as the touch moved up my leg.  As soon as I made the noise, the contact vanished.  I groaned.

“What are you doing?”

“Breaking the rules,” he grumbled from across the room.

I needed to know, “Why were there razor blades in the walls?”

“There was a slot in the back of the medicine cabinet for used razor blades to be dropped between the wall boards so that they were safe and wouldn’t hurt anyone in the trash.  That was perfectly normal at one point in history,” he explained.

I considered this, “Why were there bloody razor blades in the walls?”

He didn’t answer that one.  “Why haven’t you used your little toy since I cleaned it for you?”

Now it was my turn to be silent.

“You liked that toy,” he prompted.  “I liked watching you enjoy yourself.  Good for everyone.”

“That’s really creepy.  Can’t you just watch porn like a normal person?”

“Porn isn’t as satisfying,” he replied.  Then he added, “For either of us.  And I am not a normal person.”

“I noticed.”

“Would we have fucked by now if I was?”  he just sounded curious.  The vocal leer from a moment ago was gone.

“I would have had you arrested by now if you were.”

The low chuckle rumbled through the house at that.  I closed my eyes and he stroked my face.  “Let me watch,” he purred.  “I can feel how badly you want.”

That made my eyes snap open.  “What?”

“I can taste your fear, but also your pleasure.  I enjoyed watching you cum in a way that humans can not understand.  And I am very aware of your frustration.”

“What happens to my soul if a shadow … creature watches me play with myself?”

“It gets to live in a house with a happier guardian?” he suggested.

“A guardian?  Is that what you are?”

“Guardian sounds better than monster or eldritch god but that’s just semantics.”

“I’m pretty sure there is a difference,” I pointed out.

“Perhaps the difference is what I’m doing at the time.  And right now, I am guarding this house, taking care of you and hoping you will take care of yourself.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” I joked.   “I’m too damn tired!”  I thought for a moment, “I need more rules, Nick.”

“Like what?” he asked in a breathy hissing rasp that sounded pretty much like how I imagined a death rattle would sound.

“Well, there’s that,” I pointed out.  “Now I’m scared and I can’t see you so this is going to be another night of sitting up until I fall down.”

“You need to rest,” he murmured in a more normal voice for him.   It wasn’t human sounding, but it wasn’t deliberately scary.

I had already set up and was fumbling for a light switch. I shrieked when he caught my hand.  “Ugh! Look, either I get to sleep or you get to scare me, but you have to pick one.  And I can’t see when you are going to touch me, so it’s scary every time.  That’s why I asked you not to.  But if you can’t do that, can you at least tell me when it’s coming?”

“Would that really make it better if you knew I was going to lick my way up your back?”

“It would if I knew you would listen when I tell you not to.  This is about trust, Nick.  I don’t trust you.  I am already very aware of how vulnerable I am here.  You could easily lock me in the basement and wait for me to starve to death.  You could smother me with my pillow.  Hell, you could slice open an artery and hide the razor blade in the walls.”  I stopped abruptly, wondering if I was just giving him ideas.  “I can’t stop you and I can’t leave and I can’t trust you not to lock me in the bedroom because you think that will help me sleep.”  He let go of my hand.  I turned on the light and looked around the empty house.  “My head hurts and I don’t want to be afraid any more.”

“I have never done anything to hurt you, but I can see how I have done things that are frightening.”  It sounded like a whisper on the very edge of hearing.  “Turn out the light, lay down and I will rub your back until you can sleep.  I will do my very best not to be scary.”

I turned on my laptop as a source of light and sound before I turned off the light switch.  “I can’t believe I am saying this, but if you want this to be less scary for me, find me a nightlight.  I haven’t needed one since I was ten, but, congratulations, I do now.”

I felt the bed dip.  It didn’t always do that.  “I’m going to rub your back now,” he whispered. “You can tell me to stop.”

“Ok,” I acknowledge.

It wasn’t a massage; it was more like a person petting a cat.  He started at the top of my head and stroked back to my waist, then stopped and started again.  It was vaguely soothing and I was really exhausted by then.  At some point in the night I woke to see a huge black shape hunched over my keyboard.

In the morning I had emails confirming my order of six cartoon animal night lights from IKEA and one from an auction house saying they would be happy to broker the sale of my wine and that they would send an expert to confirm its authenticity.  

I wondered how you forge wine.

#quarantine #oh my god they were quarantined #shadow monster

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Bachelor

A birthday gift for @bellafarallones. Part 3 of the TAZ Amnesty Bachelor AU (sternclay and indruck were the first two) AKA what Vincent was up to. Apollo is from my Amnesty Super Hero fic

The entire United States to choose from and this is the best the producers could find? He’s going to win this thing with his eyes closed. Then it’s a hop, skip, and jump to some endorsement deals, his own spin-off, and then a prime time hosting slot. 

Oh, and a marriage. But that should be easy; any guy would count themselves lucky to have him.

God, that pool will be great for Instagram shots. Luckily the producers knew their biggest draw when they saw him and agreed to let Indrid continue his work as Apollo’s personal photographer and assistant. He may be a disappointment to the Cold name, but he’s good with a camera and has no interest in being recorded for the show. And if, god forbid, Apollo comes down with a cold during filming, someone will be there to bring him Day-Quil. After all, if he lets anyone see Apollo in a vulnerable state, Apollo will just have to send their father an email about Indrid’s latest failure. 

“It’s times like this we should be grateful for our genes. I know I am.” He glances at his twin, pausing his gaze on his silver hair and tattoos.

“You dye yours too. And I think there are more than a few handsome men here, so don’t get cocky.” His attention shifts for a moment as a man dressed like Smokey the Bear passes them.

“Oh come on, even with those pretentious glasses you can see I’m a cut above.”

“If you say so. And if you want to do shots of you in your suit, we need to start soon, so kindly find your room so we can get on with it.”

--------------------------------------------------

Not only is this easy, it’s fun. The cameras love him, and most of his fellow contestants yield to him after one remark. He’s been watching Vincent, the bachelor for this season, closely during group interactions, and it’s clear he’s already developing favorites. Annoyingly, two in particular--Joseph and Duck--are more inclined to push back at him. But it doesn’t matter; everyone has weaknesses. He’ll find theirs soon. 

Tonight is his first formal date with Vincent. They’re at an Italian place with good lighting, and Vincent is perfectly nice to look at in his lavender dress shirt and silver tie. Apollo’s done his research; Vincent is ten years his senior, took an early retirement from a position in the department of defense and now runs two consulting businesses; one for banks and museums and one for domestic violence shelters, health clinics, and other places where doing good draws enemies. The first business subsidizes the second. Vincent enjoys tennis and running, has no Instagram presence, and is an only child. 

Apollo has his plan of attack; the trouble is, Vincent isn’t interested in sitting there and being flattered (though he does blush when Apollo says the tie makes the grey in his hair look all the more distinguished). He wants to know about Apollo. 

“When you’re not taking photos, what do you like to do?”

He doesn’t correct him about who takes the pictures, smiles, “I, ah, I go to the gym.”

“I have to say it shows.” Vincent winks. It’s so corny, but Apollo can’t find it in him to hate it, “any sports, or just things like weights and cardio?”

‘

“No, but I played football in high school. I was star running back.”

“I played my freshman year, but baseball suited me better. So when you're not ‘pumping iron’, what do you do for fun?”

There is no answer that won’t make him look too shallow or too...no, he can’t even think about that option. Damn it, he must have a normal hobby. He hedges with the truth and hopes the editors cut it for time. 

“I like movies. I, ah, I’ve been working my way through the Criterion Collection of the birth of cinema  and it’s fascinating. Did you know there was a silent film heartthrob who predates Valentino?”

“Sessue Hayakawa?” 

“You know about him?” He leans forward.

“I read a biography of him last year that was riveting. I still have it if you’d like to borrow it.”

“Yes, yes absolutely. We, we could even watch some of his films together, and the ones they inspired, you know they, they…” 

Fuck, he’s acting like Indrid, bumping the table and yammering about things that will get him nowhere. He sits back, grabs his wine and sips to cover his error. 

“I’d like that.” Is all Vincent says as they’re entrees arrive. 

“Enough about me. I was reading about your business and, ah, well, how do you even do something like that?”

Vincent describes his process, how he picks clients and what he considers when evaluating a space. Apollo fully intends to zone out with a smile. 

He hangs on every word. All too soon, Vincent is asking for dessert. 

“Is your meal okay?”

Apollo looks at the plate of spaghetti carbonara he’s been poking at, not wanting to be caught in an ugly expression while eating, “Yes, it’s delicious.”

Dessert arrives in the shape of a chocolate lava cake with sparklers, a detail which delights Vincent. It’s such a ridiculous thing to smile over. Apollo smiles back, and let’s his date feed him a bite of cake. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Was the beach trip self-serving on Vincent’s part? Indeed. Has it also given him valuable intel? Yes, yes it has.

He now knows who’s going home next; Nico is such a fraternity-bred asshole that he should have sent him packing weeks ago. Honestly, all his comments about Barclay this morning were awful. Barclay is masculine and sweet in a way Vincent adores. He even helped Joseph during the cliff dive, which bumps him even higher in Vincent’s eyes. 

Joseph stealthily knocking Nico’s hat from his head with a frisbee was also a high point; goodness, Joseph reminds him of men he used to work with who he never, ever, admitted his feelings for (they were often his subordinates, and he prided himself on keeping a safe department). 

Then there’s Duck. Vincent would like an award for not spending the morning asking to rub sunblock on those arms. He’s been treated to a closer view of them the last half-hour, Duck sitting next to him in a Hawaiin shirt that shows off his biceps. The ranger just now excused himself (“gotta give the other fellas a chance to impress”) to go keep Indrid company during dinner. Polite and friendly to the core, that’s his favorite bear. 

And then there’s-

“Hiiii Vincent.” Apollo slides into the spot closest to him on the restaurant deck. 

Were Vincent choosing for an evening, Apollo would edge out even Duck. He suspects getting the younger man under some comfortable sheets to praise and fuss over him would be very nice indeed. Apollo may posture and insist to the others that he’s the dominant one in the bedroom, but this isn’t Vincent’s first go around; he knows someone who longs to be spoiled and submissive when he sees one.

But he’s here to choose his husband, not a hook-up. 

He initially assumed he’d send Apollo home after their first formal date. He knows these shows sometimes attract people who want their fifteen minutes of fame, and Apollo is one of them. But then his meticulously built image cracked, just a little, as they talked, and Vincent is so taken by what he saw that he can’t bring himself to send him home yet.

The older man slides the younger one an oyster, “try one, they’re local.”

There’s no appealing way to eat an oyster on camera, but Apollo lifts a shell and downs one. He does an excellent job masking his grimace.

“Another? Or would you like one of the grilled scallops instead?”

He watches him run a calculus. Then he slides his sunglasses down, “Scallop, please.”

Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

-------------------------

“Indrid, Vincent hates me!”

Indrid blinks at him.

“One of the other contestants got them to show him a bunch of footage of me putting the other men in their place and now he hates me.” Genuine panic rises in his chest as Indrid gives him absolutely no expression to work from. 

“What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to him, tell him that I’m not-”

“What you actually are? Vincent is here to choose a spouse; he has a right to not choose you.”

“Fix. It.” Apollo snarls.

His twin stands, regarding him from across the rug, “I will speak to Vincent, on one condition; you do not go after Duck ever again.”

“Traitor, you should be on my side, not his.”

Indrid shrugs, sits back down and picks up his book. 

“I’ll, I’ll tell father you’re sabotaging me.”

“You think he’ll like to hear you’re being out done by his inferior son?”

“....Damn it. Fine, fine. I’ll leave Newton alone. Now go.”

His brother has the audacity to grin at him, “I will, right after I finish this chapter.”

---------------------------------------------

He’s sitting with Duck and Joseph, asking their opinion, when Indrid enters the living room.

“Did Apollo send you?” Vincent picks lint from his cardigan. 

“Yes. He’s asking me to intercede on his behalf since he thinks you hate him.”

“Oh dear, I don’t hate him. I just said I was disappointed in him.”

“Ah” Indrid perches on the arm of Duck’s chair, “That’s our father’s code for ‘I hate you.”

“Jesus.” Duck mutters.

“I suspected he was exaggerating. That’s why I agreed to talk to you; I’ve learned it’s best to verify anything  he tells me. In truth, I can’t do much for him.  If it’s not obvious, he takes after our father and our father is...not a good man. We each survive him in our own way; Apollo chose to mold himself into what he demanded we be. That does not excuse him. But perhaps it puts him into perspective.”

Vincent knows he’s not sending Apollo home this week; it’s still Nico’s turn. And his heart that taps his chest to ask, “Do you think he could change?”

Indrid says nothing. Duck is keeping his mouth shut, but his frown suggests his answer.

“This is not to defend him but” Joseph looks at Indrid, “you grew up under the same conditions and chose not to replicate them. That suggests it’s possible.”

“I just didn’t want to end up like him.” Indrid murmurs.

“And ‘possible’ don’t mean probable.” Duck adds.

Vincent rubs his temples, “You’re right. All of you. I...I think I need some time to decide how many chances to be the person I think he can be I ought to give him.”

---------------------------------------

Apollo isn’t sure what to expect. The last time Vincent asked to see him, it was to scold him. Three guys have gone home since then, and he’s been fighting back his impulses to torment and gloat, focusing instead on  making Vincent like him instead of undermining the competition. 

The door opens on a room with a bed, lots of candles, and…

“Is that whale song?”

“Yes. I picked a ‘soothing’ playlist to fit the mood.” Vincent is in linen pants and a button up short sleeve, pats the bed with a smile, “I thought a nice massage might do you good. Non-sexual, of course” he tips his head at the camera.

Apollo isn’t shy. His thirst traps are legendary. But he lays on his stomach the instant he’s down to his underwear. Vincent hums as he starts on his shoulders, checking in now and then about pressure. It would be nice if Apollo’s skin weren’t starving for gentle touches. He keeps letting out pathetic sounds, almost like chirps, as Vincent rubs him down. 

Then the worst thing happens; he gets hard. At first he tries just keeping his hips still but no, just Vincent’s touch is enough. So he tenses in hopes of not giving it away.

“Is it too hard?”

“No, I’m fine.”

The hands leave his skin and he whines like a kicked dog. 

“Would you gentlemen let us do the rest in private? I’m sure the viewers get the point.”

There’s shuffling feet and shutting doors, and then a gentle hand rolling him onto his back.

“Apollo, what’s really--oh. That explains it.” 

He scrambles to sit up, tucking his knees to his chest, “I’m sorry, you said you didn’t want it to be sexual, I didn’t do this on purpose, I swear-”

The bed squeaks along with him as Vincent sits, “Sweetheart, I’m not going to get angry with you for this. If, um, if it helps to know, the feeling is very much mutual.”

It should feel like a triumph, but his cheeks burn and he hides his face against his knees. 

“Does that bother you?”

“No! No, not at all. I wouldn’t be wooing you on T.V if I didn’t think you were attractive. Blech, I sound like one of Indrid’s romance novels. Not, not that there’s anything wrong with Indrid...liking...silly things.”

Vincent cups his face and he leans into it, wants to glue his cheek there, “Apollo, I’ve noticed you’re trying to be less...unkind since our little talk.”

“I’m trying. It’s just so very, very hard.”

“I’ve also noticed you’re letting your persona go now and then. That means a lot to me. I’m not interested in the man you think you should be; I’m interested in the man you might become, the man you are when you stop trying to be better than everyone. I like that man, I’d like to get to know him more.”

Apollo shivers as Vincent kisses his forehead, “I’ll do my best.”

-----------------------

“The nerve of Joseph to say things like that to me!”

Indrid doesn’t look up, “It’s a genuine concern; Vincent is older, there will likely come a time when you’ll be the one caring for him. Are you certain you’ll have the patience for that? Be willing to put your needs and wants on hold for the sake of someone else?”

That’s really what would happen? He, he could do it for Vincent, he’s certain. But could he? What if it’s hard, without glory or gain, does that make it foolish?

He chases those thoughts in dizzying circles for fifteen minutes until they crash into the solution.

“I solved it! I don't have to worry about taking care of Vincent as he ages because he'll divorce me once I reach thirty-two.”

“That is the bleakest possible conclusion.” Indrid flips his sketchbook closed. 

“Just let me have this!”

“I hate that I even have to say this but Vincent is not our father.”

“Father said he was doing what any sensible man would do.”

Indrid levels him with an unusually firm stare, “Do you not want Vincent just because he’s over thirty-two?”

“Of course not! He’s great! I, brother for goodness sake just tell me how to care for him.”

“I literally cannot do that. You have to figure it out for yourself what care looks like for you.”

He’s about to repeat his demand when his phone rings. 

“Hi, Vincent.”

“I'm so sorry, but I have to break our date tonight. I was out for a run and twisted my ankle. I just got back from the doctor; he says I sprained it, so I might be on bed rest a few days.”

Perfect. 

“Oh no, I’m glad it’s not too serious. Would, ah, would it be alright if I came to see you?”

They agree on a time. Then he remembers the problem that preceded the phone call.

“What do I do?”

“What do you want to do for him? Or, if your positions were reversed, him to do for you?” Indrid asks flatly. 

“Call you so he doesn’t see me looking frail.”

“assume I am dead and thus no longer dealing with your nonsense”

“That’s not fair.”

Indrid flops on the bed, “I'm dead, Vincent is the only one who is coming to take care of you, what do you want him to do?”

“Tell me it’s okay and spend time with me and…”

Indrid grins, “And?”

“And watch PBS in bed.”

“It’s a start. Now please get out of my room.”

An hour later he pokes his head into Vincent’s bedroom; the older man is reclining, reading a John Grisham paperback in a robe that makes him look very suave

“How are you feeling?” He sits next to him, rubs his knee. .

 “Oh, I'm fine, just feel a little silly. It used to be I could twist an ankle and come up fine. Aging is quite the adventure.”

“I, um, I'm glad it wasn't too bad. I, I don't like the thought of you getting hurt. Bot that you'd be bad if you did! I accept that we are all very fragile beings trying not to die.

(Too dark, Cold,  pull it back).

“I mean, um, is there anything I can do to help?”

“I'd be happy to have you stay awhile.” Vincent takes his hand, let’s him lean on his shoulder as they talk. They’re midway through a discussion of famous film disasters when a small burst of black and red lands on the windowsill. He doesn’t catch his excitement in time and Vincent asks him what made him perk up. 

With a courage he did not know he possessed, he points to the bird.

“Oh! How beautiful. What kind is it?”

“Scarlet Tanager” he mumbles, “they’re not common here.”

“Do you know a lot about birds?”

He nods. 

“There are some feeders just on that balcony. And I think the binoculars a friend gave me last Christmas are still in the closet, if you’d like to use them.”

“I would” he stands, heart bubbling with terrifying warmth, “thank you, da--ah, dear.”

Mischief sweeps across Vincent’s face, “Is this where you tell me you’ve had lots of older boyfriends?”

“No. I, ah, I’ve made out some but I never dated.”

“Not even a highschool sweetheart?”

“My father made it so no teenager wanted to go near our house. Or us.” The binoculars are magnificent, the best money can buy, “I always wished I had a date to homecoming. It looked so fun, asking someone or getting asked and then having matching outfits and going out to dinner and taking pictures together. I even picked out an outfit just in case someone asked.  I think Indrid snuck out to meet his burnout--, um, meet his friends. I just sat in my room.”

“You could have asked someone yourself, couldn’t you?” Vincent makes room for him on the bed once more. 

 “And risk getting rejected in front of the whole school? No thank you.” He stares at the binoculars, afraid of what he might see if he turns, “I'm sorry, you don't need to hear all this. I’m supposed to be here taking care of you.”

Vincent opens his arms, pulling Apollo into a hug, “You know care can go two ways at once, right?”

“Not really” he mumbles into silver silk.

“Oh, sweetheart.” A kiss on his cheek, hands running soothingly up his sides, and those weak, silly noises slipping from his mouth. 

“I want it to be, I’ll be so good, I’ll take care of you, just please...please say you’d do the same?”

“Of course. That’s what love is.”

He tucks his face against Vincent’s neck, “Will you make fun of me if I say I’m frightened?”

“Never.”

“I don’t know how to do so much of this. I don’t know how much of me can change.”

“Are you willing to try?” Vincent kisses the shell of his ear.

“For you? Yes.”

-------------------------------------------

“I choose…” Vincent looks between Apollo and Jonathan. Apollo cannot wait to spring into his arms. 

“I choose neither.”

“What!” Ned yells off camera.

“I’m sorry to both of you but I simply can’t. Jonathan, you’re a very nice man, but our connection is ultimately lacking. Apollo” Vincent meets his eyes and he forces his gaze to stay placid, “I care for you more than words can say. I know you’ve worked so very hard to change. I also know that people can easily revert to their old, cruel ways under pressure or difficulty. Marriage often involves those things, and I’m not sure you can be the man I need you to be. With those misgivings,  it wouldn’t be fair to propose to either of you. I hope you understand.”

They both say the do, shake hands, give hugs. And he does, he truly does understand. He understands that Vincent made the choice he had to, that even though he got better he is still a rotten, cruel creature who doesn’t deserve him. He was taught he deserved the world; some good that did him. It lost him the only person who might make the world a less miserable place. 

“Apollo!” Vincent jogs after him, catches up to him in an empty hall, “Apollo I-”

His heart is breaking; his old ways twine like vipers around it, “I, I’m glad you didn’t choose me you, you boring, pathetic man. No wonder you have to pay people to go on dates with you! I don’t need anyone, least of all you!”

Vincent steps back, face falling as Apollo storms off. The last thing he hears is, “And here I thought I made the wrong choice.”

---------------------

He deletes his Instagram. Gets a job as a personal shopper. Goes to therapy because he will not let Indrid outshine him when it comes to unlearning how they were raised. 

It helps. Three months after the disastrous finale (for him, not for the network) he’s feeling, if not better, like he might actually try dating someone soon. He also writes two apology letters; one to Indrid and one to Vincent. Then he tears them both up and just tells Indrid that he’s trying to be less of an asshole and that he’s sorry for all the time he was one. He leaves Vincent alone; if he doesn’t want to see him, the least he can do is respect that.

It’s migration season, so he’s hiding in his favorite, super-secret birdwatching spot. It’s near a pond, so lots of birds come to drink and bathe, and he’s seen several on his list. 

Branches crack, sending nearby jays into a flap. Damn it, he’s never seen someone else here; the only person he ever told about it was-

“Hi, Apollo.”

“Vincent!” He almost falls off his stump, “how, why?”

“I’d been meaning to explore this spot ever since you spoke about it. But I, um, was also hoping I might see you in the process. Pathetic, as you might say.”

“I did, didn’t I.” Apollo stares up at him, clutching his binoculars so hard they might become disparate spyglasses, “Vincent, I am so, so, so very sorry for how I acted when we last saw each other. I was hurt, all I want is to make someone else hurt more so I stop feeling so vulnerable and powerless. I, I’ve been working on it in, in” he winces “therapy. You said once that you wanted to meet the man I might be. I realized I wanted to meet him to, to be him, not to win some show or even to get you to like me but just because I don’t want to be the other Apollo anymore.”

Vincent sits next to him, “You don’t give up, do you?”

“I, I just want to un-fuck what I can. I, how have you been?”

“Doing lots of thinking. I still know I made the right call not proposing during the finale. And that I’m ready to start dating again.”

“I hope whoever you go out with knows how lucky they are.” He says without any motive but the truth.

Vincent plucks a late-blooming wildflower and offers it to him, “It’s not a rose, but then again, this isn’t a proposal. It’s just a date, if you still want one.”

“So badly.” 

The older man leans in, kissing him softly as his spine turns to soup, “I’m looking forward to meeting the, um, latest version of you.” He snickers at his own phrasing.

Apollo pulls him into a second kiss, “Me too.”

#bachelor au

[fangirlovestuff]

A Very Colin Christmas - Colin Shea x reader

Ch.4 - A Holy Jolly Christmas

ch.1  ch.2  ch.3

a/n - hey lovely people!! here’s the fourth chapter, and a reminder that tomorrow there’s no chapter and friday will be the last one, so happy Christmas eve eve to those who celebrate, enjoy!<3

Summary: Slowly but surely, you discover why Colin was so apprehensive about having his family over, and also realize something you should’ve realized long ago...

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: curse words, angst if you squint

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, it was the morning of Christmas eve, and you figured you should do some grocery shopping before stores close down for the holidays, so you put on your clothes and headed out of the apartment, locking the door behind you and turning around to –

"Good morning," Eleanor was standing in the threshold of Colin's apartment, the morning newspaper in her hand.

"Good morning," you answered with a smile you hoped didn't look too fake.

"Who lives there?" she asked.

"Just, uh… my friend," you shifted uncomfortably. "I um, this morning I got a text to… come help her, and now we're done and it's still pretty early so I figured I wouldn't bother you. I was just going home to change."

"Alright, we'll see you later I assume," she stated.

"Of course," you smiled awkwardly and went down the stairs as quickly as you could. Once you were out of the building you started heading to the shop, and as you were walking you pulled out your phone to call Colin. He didn't answer, and you sighed in frustration before putting your phone back in your bag. You hoped he had enough sense to handle it on his own.

While you were shopping, there were some interesting developments at Colin's.

"Colin," Eleanor barged into his room and opened the curtain. "I think your girlfriend is cheating on you."

It took his foggy brain a second to register her words. "What?"

"I don't think you can trust her," she crossed her hands on her chest.

"Good morning to you too," he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Colin, I'm being serious, I-"

"I know mom, let me just wake up for a few minutes and we can talk about it, alright?"

"Fine," she said, her lips drawn into a thin line and left the room. Colin sighed groggily and went to get dressed and brush his teeth. He didn't know what the fuck his mom was talking about, but he sure as hell was going to stall as much as he could without knowing.

When he went into the kitchen, she was there. Obviously.

"There you are! So this morning I went out to bring the newspaper."

"Anything interesting in it?" he asked as he started making himself a coffee.

"No, but listen to this – when I was in the hallway the door opposite opened, and guess who came out? Your girlfriend, Colin. It was your girlfriend."

It took all of his willpower not to burst into laughter on the spot. Instead, he frowned. "What did she say?"

"That her friend was living there and needed help. But I'm not buying it," she shook her head. "She looked very suspicious."

"Well, she's telling the truth mom," he smiled. "Her friend is living there. She introduced us, actually," he lied casually.

"Oh," Eleanor frowned. "Okay then."

Only when she left Colin could allow himself to snicker into his coffee. That was close.

When you came back with your groceries, you prayed Eleanor wouldn't see you, since you couldn't excuse that away if she had. But thankfully, the hallway was empty, and you let yourself into your apartment without any more awkward encounters.

You shot Colin a text asking him when he wanted you to "arrive" at his place, and he said that in about an hour or so. That gave you just enough time to take a long shower and almost forget about the morning.

An hour later, fresh out of the shower, you knocked on Colin's door. Eleanor opened the door, and she smiled a tight-lipped smile as she ushered you in.

You both sat down in the living room, Colin and his dad nowhere in sight. You assumed they were both somewhere in the house and simply didn't hear you arrive, but you thought asking where they were was maybe a little tactless as Eleanor led the way to the living room, sitting down seemingly eager to talk to you.

"So," she started, "how did you and Colin meet?"

"Oh, um," you fumbled over your words for a second trying to come up with a convincing story, "I met him at a gig of his. I thought his music was great and when we got to know each other I realized how great he was himself," you smiled.

"Really? That's funny, because Colin told me your friend from across the hall was the one who introduced you…" she trailed off in an unsaid question.

Your heart was racing as you tried to keep up with your lies, but you didn't let it show. "Well, she actually did. She was the one who brought me to see his show that night. When she told me her neighbor was a musician I was a little skeptical, but we both had a great time. After the show she took me backstage and introduced us, and the rest is history," you channeled your relief into a smile.

"Grilling her already, mom?" Colin said from behind you and you resisted the urge to sigh in relief as he came to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"We were just having a conversation, son," she chuckled.

You chuckled as well, trying to diffuse the tension. "Yeah, I was just telling her about the night we met, when we were at that gig of yours."

"Oh yeah, it's a cute story," he smiled at you.

"When are Andy, Laurie and Jacob coming for dinner?" you asked in an attempt to change the subject before it gets awkward.

"They should be here at around six," Colin replied.

"Oh, you know Andy's a lawyer, right?" Eleanor asked you.

"Yes, we talked about it last night," you chuckled embarrassedly.

"Ah, of course! Anyway, I'm just wondering why his brother here doesn't follow in his footsteps," she reached forward as if sharing a secret with you. "You know, if you ever want to start a family, a steady income is very important."

"Well, we haven't even moved in yet, Eleanor," you were getting a little pissed now. "I'd say I have no say in what Colin chooses to do or not do, right?"

"Of course, I'm just worried about my little boy," she smiled at Colin and he returned what looked more like a grimace than a smile.

"You shouldn't be," you said, "he's wonderful," you looked at him and smiled genuinely.

"Awww, thank you," he said playfully, and you giggled.

"You two are such a cute couple," William, Colin's father said as he entered the room, sitting next to Eleanor.

"Yeah, you are," she agreed with him.

You and Colin just smiled at them. You didn't know what he was thinking, but what you yourself were thinking terrified you. I wish we were.

Soon enough everyone was there and you could start on the Christmas dinner, which was mostly courtesy of Eleanor and Laurie but at least Colin provided the venue. While you were eating, they were all talking amongst themselves, which left you plenty of time to think things over.

The thing was, while you had initially agreed to all of this, you just thought of it as a favor to a friend, nothing more, and now you were starting to realize just how… magical denial was. Because even in Colin's family was kind of annoying, apart from his admittedly hot older brother, Colin was surprisingly un-annoying for the last couple of days. He was actually being really… sweet.

It was the last thought that truly sent you spiraling. Because knowing Colin can be this sweet made it all the more bitter that it wasn't true.

Before, you could just tell yourself that Colin Shea wasn't really capable of love. That he wasn't ready. But now that you were seeing him like this, you knew that wasn't true, it couldn't be. No, the agonizing reality was – he can love. He just didn't want that, and certainly not with you. He had every opportunity to start something with you – hell, even just a one night stand – and he didn't. Sure, he flirted and joked around, but when it came down to it, you knew what Colin Shea seriously flirting looked like, and it never once happened with you, and you were sure of that.

Because if he really tried, deep down you knew you would let him succeed.

The food in your mouth suddenly became too dry, and you gulped down some water to steady yourself.

After dinner, everyone sat down in the living room to watch a Christmas movie. You and Colin sat next to each other on the couch, and you were trying to concentrate on the film when his hand wrapped around your shoulder. Nothing too bold.

You tried to hold your concentration, but then he started drawing patterns on your shirt, running his hand along the covered curve of your shoulder and all together with your thoughts it was… just too much.

"You know what guys?" you said after a few minutes, "I think I should probably go. I'm just pretty tired, I'm sorry," you said as you left your chair.

They all just kind of stared at you, and you didn't blame the after that out of the blue statement. All you knew is that you needed out of here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[everybodyscupoftea]

let it snow

college isaac x reader

finals week hell capped off with the first snow of the season

(warnings: mentions of not taking care of yourself during finals - lack of sleep, over-caffeinating, etc; cursing; very little editing)

Finals week fall of your third year was ugly. It was a grueling combination of coffee and protein bars with absolutely no sleep. There was a table you’d managed to claim on the third floor of your campus’s library, and the only time you left was for an ill-advised gym trip to wake yourself up.

Isaac didn’t like the silence of the third floor like you did, so he’d been working with some of the kids in his major. You texted him a few times a day, but for the most part, you’d been reworking every single homework assignment you’d been given all semester.

Mid-way through the week, you made a trip to Taco Bell for actual food that wasn’t toast or a protein bar, much to Isaac’s displeasure. He watched you eating it with a weird look, so you finally asked, “What?”

“How much have you eaten this week?”

“Lots of protein bars and breakfast.”

“And instead of letting me cook something good for you tonight, you got fast food?”

“Yep. Braincells are overworked, so I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Stiles was sitting on the opposite end of the table, working on a research paper for his criminal justice course, and snorted, “Dude, she’d rather Taco Bell than your cooking.”

“That’s not true, I definitely said I forgot.” you muttered, trying to defend him.

He shrugged, “That’s not what I heard.”

Isaac rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles’s shoulder, “Fuck off, dude.”

“Who’s editing your Shakespeare paper? Me. Show some respect.”

“Stiles makes a point,” you responded, taking the last bite of your quesadilla before breaking off into a large yawn. 

The furrow between Isaac’s brow was back when he looked at you, and you stood up, rolling your shoulders out, ready to go back to the library to work through another set of structures homework.

“Hey, when’s the last time you slept?” Stiles asked, shutting his computer gently.

“Like,” you paused, trying to think, “last night.”

Immediately, Isaac chipped in, “How long?”

“Three hours?”

“And the night before?” Stiles was walking over to you.

“Oh, no sleep that night. Got sucked into some geotech homework and the next thing I knew it was 6 a.m. So I went to the gym to get some endorphins going, had some breakfast, and got another coffee.”

“You should sleep,” Isaac told you.

“Only two more tests, and then I can rest.”

Stiles sighed, “At least take a shower.”

“Actually, that would be great.”

Isaac nodded, and you could tell he was already trying to figure out the best way to get you to stay the night. You were determined to power through for a bit. 

Getting out of the shower, feeling significantly more alive, you put on the clothes Isaac had left for you, and started toweling your hair off. You checked the outside temperature, wincing when you saw how fucking cold it was, and started layering back up.

Isaac was sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix, when you walked out. He jumped up, “Where are you going?”

“Library for a few hours and then bed.”

“What time is your first test tomorrow?”

You sighed, trying to think, “Fuck, I need to check. I think 10:30 in the morning.”

“What class?”

With a grimace, you answered, “Structures.”

He looked like he didn’t really want to let you go, but he knew you’d be really upset if he tried to keep you back. Nodding, he smiled softly, “Text me after your test tomorrow.”

“I will.”

Putting a hand on his shoulder for balance, you rose up on your tiptoes to give him a goodbye kiss. When you pulled apart, Isaac reached over and grabbed a beanie from the hook next to the door, gently putting it on your head, tugging it down to cover your ears.

“Don’t want you to get sick,” he flicked your nose.

You clutched your chest dramatically, “My hero.”

He sighed, feigning exasperation, and nudged you out the door, “Go finish the semester.”

-

Structures and geotech, both on the same day, kicked your ass. After the geotech final at 2:00, you stumbled out of the classroom, eyes practically shutting. You weren’t sure that you could make the drive back to your apartment.

Taking one more sip of coffee to power through, and after a few minutes, pulled out your phone. Isaac’s apartment was fairly close to the civil engineering building, so you decided to call to see if you could crash there.

“Isaac,” you started when he answered.

“Hey, bub.”

“Can I stay at your place?”

“Yeah of course,” you heard ruffling in the background and suddenly his voice got louder, “are you close?”

“Walking that way. I don’t think I should drive back to my apartment.”

“Have you eaten today?”

“Fuck,” you muttered, “I was gonna pick something up on my way home, but I forgot.”

“No worries,” he was quick to reassure, “I have plenty of food here for you.”

“God, you’re the best.”

He stuttered a few times, and you could practically feel his blush through the phone, “Hurry up,” was his weak response, and you laughed, hanging up.

The walk was easier after that, though the sky was grey and the wind was picking up. You frowned, pulling your jacket tighter around you, and Isaac’s hat lower on your head. It took about three seconds for him to answer after you knocked, dressed exactly the same as the day before.

He had a plate ready for you, leftover fried rice and chicken, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Before you could start eating, he asked, “How were your tests?”

“Geotech was easier, but structures melted my brain in the morning, so who actually knows. What about your Shakespeare essay?”

“Stiles read it over for me last night and I submitted it online and dropped it off this morning. Been watching Netflix since then.”

You yawned again, stretching out with the hand not holding your plate, and walked over to the couch to sit down. Isaac sat next to you and hit play on whatever movie he’d been watching. Curling up, you dug in.

-

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. You faintly remembered dozing off during the movie, plate still in your lap, before Isaac woke you up and made you go to bed. He woke you up once more when he climbed in next to you.

 The third and final time you woke up, Isaac was gone. It was light outside, grey like snow was coming, and you had no clue what time it was, just that you were hungry again. You heard a burst of loud laughter before someone shushed them, equally loudly.

WIth a laugh, you climbed out of bed, heading to the bathroom connected to his room to brush your teeth and wash your face. Luckily, the clothes you’d left the night before were washed and sitting on his dresser, so you were able to change.

Scott and Stiles were on the couch, playing COD, when you finally walked out. Stiles hit pause and whistled, “Damn, look who managed to resurrect herself.”

“Looks pretty good for a dead bitch,” you joked back.

Isaac was in the kitchen, and you went over to see what he was cooking. He handed you a mug with a smile, “It’s hot chocolate. Figure you’ve had enough caffeine for a whole month this week. There is some coffee in the recipe, I saw it online.”

Taking a sip, you hummed, “This is fantastic.”

He beamed, “I’m glad you like it. I’m making taco soup for tonight, did you want a sandwich?”

“That would be great.”

Hopping up on the counter, you swung your legs back and forth and watched him make you a grilled cheese just the way you like it, tomatoes and everything. Isaac handed it over and ruffled your hair gently, “Eat up.”

“Very nutritious,” you commented before taking a bite.

He laughed, “I’ll make you eat veggies later. I want to go outside first, it snowed.”

“Oh my god, actually?” you gasped.

Leaning against the counter next to you, he nodded, “First of the year.”

“What time is it?” you finally remembered to ask between bites.

“3:00 in the afternoon. I texted your roommate while you were asleep to let her know you were alive.”

“Oh shit, thanks.”

Scott wandered into the kitchen, “So, we going outside soon?”

“We need to get out there before it gets all ugly,” Stiles added from where he was still on the couch.

“Let’s fucking go,” you hopped off the counter, eating your last bite.

The four of you traipsed outside after bundling up. There were a few other people outside walking around, a group of girls taking pictures under a really pretty snow-covered tree, and then your group making noise and kicking at the snow.

“I can’t take you guys anywhere,” you snorted when Stiles slipped and fell on his ass.

“God damn,” he muttered, “that hurt.”

Scott helped him up and immediately shoved a handful of snow down his shirt. Stiles squealed, twisting away from him, cursing loudly. You and Isaac laughed, his arm draped over your shoulder, until Scott turned your way with two more handfuls.

“If you put that down my shirt,” you warned, “I’m calling your mom.”

“You won’t.”

“Fuckin bet, bud.”

He dropped one hand slowly and turned to Isaac, “You’re on your own.”

While Scott chased Isaac across the parking lot, Stiles walked over toward the edge of the sidewalk, you following closely behind, interested to see what he was going to do with the mischievous look on his face.

With his foot, Stiles spelled out penis in the snow.

“Oh that’s mature.”

He glared at you, “Do better, I dare you.”

After a few seconds of thought, you spelled out send nudes and he had to concede defeat. Isaac came back a few seconds later, panting, cheeks red, and looked down, “Cute.”

“Thanks. Should I leave my Snap too?”

He rolled his eyes, “No.”

“You’re probably right. I have no interest in seeing an unsolicited dick pic this close to Christmas.”

“Just this close to Christmas?” Scott asked, “You’re okay with it the rest of the year?”

You paused, “Well no. Don’t make fun of me, my single braincell is still recovering.”

Stiles snorted, “Head empty snow day.”

“My mom will want a picture,” you told them, “set up the timer.”

It took five attempts, but you finally got one you were happy with. Isaac leaned over your shoulder, “Tell your mom I said hey.”

“Will do,” you muttered, looking at it again.

Scott stood on the right, eyes squinted with a wide smile, Isaac a bit behind him, one arm over Scott’s shoulder, one around you. Isaac’s smile was soft, looking straight at you. Stiles stood on your left, your arm wrapped around his shoulder, his hand reaching for yours, cheeky grin on his face while you glared playfully at him.

“Come on,” Stiles yelled, halfway up the stairs back to their apartment, “hot chocolate awaits!”

You hit send and followed after them, ready for another mug.

~

day eleven of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: playing in the snow

#college isaac #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fic #obxmermaidholiday