#-others' attention every few seconds and this is a REALLY GOOD PART OF THE STORY but you go have fun tho :D'

[prael]

Red Wine - Karina & Natty

Aespa Karina x Kiss of Life Natty x M Reader smut

thanks to @capslocked & @passingnotions & @friskyriskywhisky

Masterlist word count: 9,957 Kofi

A new girl every week.

Not like you mind it. As long as Karina is having a good time, then that's enough for you. She meets them all at work, and they're all equally pretty.

Of course they are—it's part of the job.

It's just how Karina is—she has always been a fountain of charisma and that's part of what drew you to her—some call it rizz. So, you know all too well how these girls feel when Karina cranks up that natural charm and it leads to her inevitably inviting them over on a Friday evening, an offer they can’t refuse.

A girl's night in. That's what she always calls it—truth or not.

It's a funny thing to call it, given that you're always there. Not that any of them ever complain. You're there. That's okay. You'll join in the chat or stay out of the way—it's all very casual. Most of the time, it’s just that—casual.

Most of the time.

"And then I told him: 'Look, this dress is Dior, and it's worth a year of your rent. So if you think, even for a second, that it's going to end up on your bedroom floor after you buy me a couple of glasses of bottom-shelf whiskey then you can Johnnie-Walk-the-fuck-on-out-of-here because there are a thousand more ways I can spend my night than wasting time on you.'"

The two girls break out into some sort of intoxicated, riotous laughter. The girl with the story? They call her Natty, and she is the latest of Karina's new friends to visit. This one sporting almond skin, eyes with an inky rich hue, thick lips and a smug look on her face that could melt the paint right off the wall, or the clothes off any man.

She has one leg crossed over the other, sitting at an angle towards Karina. The slight canting of her head, the way her black hair cascades over a bare shoulder, all of it conspires together in order to fully reveal her neck line where the loose t-shirt drapes from shoulder to shoulder.

"Yeah, like any dude's got enough bank to buy himself to a night with you." Karina laughs again before taking a drink from her wine.

You are trying to watch the TV, vaguely—your favourite team is on and it's a bit of a ritual for you.

You will never even know we're here. That's what Karina told you. Yet you’ve spent the better part of the last hour listening to them. We’ll be quiet.

As if that's ever true.

They've been reeling off anecdotes all the while, and if you've learned one thing about Natty, it's that she has a lot to say, and a lot if it comes down to either the pleasures, profits, or travails of her career. The stories just keep coming. And each and every one is punctuated by that same laugh from Natty. You have never heard anything quite like it before, and it's that which keeps drawing your attention back to their end of the couch. Much like her voice, it's high pitched, a little nasally and utterly adorable.

Karina laughs along as well; more than a few times a drink threatens to spill onto the carpet because one of them has laughed a little too hard or bumped into one another. Now that would be a disaster: red wine and a white carpet.

"So I got this really nice pink one. It's really pretty, a little sexy, but it's so comfy too." Natty is talking but you don't have a clue what about and Karina, turned away from you, is nodding her head, the ponytail on the back of her head shaking a little as a result.

You don't need to see Karina to know how she looks—as beautiful as ever. That same sharp jaw, high cheekbones and lips glistening pink, hued darker by her drink of choice. Those eyes. It’s always her eyes that captivate.

Her beauty and grace are two things she truly does share with Natty. All the women that come over are all part of the same constellation. Stars in their own right, but Karina is a supernova—or something equally poetic.

Karina says something, but the voice is soft and muffled and lost to you among the animated exchange.

"There's also this blue one. But I don't wear it nearly as much as the others, but it cuts real low. Nearly shows my, you know..."

That lowered voice draws your gaze right over to them both as Natty leans in towards the woman next to her. A gesture and the shape of her voice, the lilt of her accent, makes it sound as if she is being discreet even though you can clearly hear every single word.

"...you know." Natty then tugs a little at her own shirt.

The two giggle again as if they're not grown-ass women; two women who have admittedly drunk quite a lot.

"He loves this one I have, it's part of a set, and I picked it up in Paris last month,” Karina says. “Black and lacy. Super expensive, but it's so worth it."

"That pair would look good in anything," Natty lets out that same laugh again, if a little softer this time, as if the mood shifted a little. You felt this coming all along. If you're honest, sometimes as soon as Karina walks through the door with a girl on her arm, there’s a certain vibe that hangs in the air that tells you it’s one of those nights.

You're stealing glances at the two of them, and it's Natty who's looking towards you, over Karina's shoulder. Your eyes are caught in this awkward collision. Natty holds the stare, her smile shifting subtly from innocent to devilish.

She's a stunner. Even from the angle where you're catching glimpses at her, a glance out of the corner of your eye, there is something seductive and hypnotising.

"He's a really lucky guy." She says to Karina, keeping her eyes fixed on you.

That is usually the cue, one you're very familiar with. A flirty little comment, maybe an innuendo, something meant to test the waters—see where the land lies, the rocks you can stand on before stepping any further out into the surf. It's how so many of your Friday evenings play out. You are just that—an object of curiosity and interest to Karina's friends, and you have to credit the sales pitch she must deliver about you.

"You're damn right," Karina replies with a chuckle as she tilts back the remainder of her drink.

"Do you think he would like mine?"

"Of course, he would. But if you want, I can be the judge." Karina takes Natty's almost empty glass and sets both down on the table. Her expression and attitude—lips and body language—communicate her invitation far more eloquently.

Karina is reaching over and Natty's meeting her hands with her own at the hem of her shirt. A teasing lift and you can already envision what she's about to show. See, Natty's a dancer—you know that much, and a good one at that. That kind of talent comes with the blessing of a body that turns heads. Your girlfriend knew that well too when she had invited her back home.

"Go on then."

The shirt lifts off Natty's skin, with the help of Karina’s hands running up the side of her body, exposing a pierced belly button. You try, very valiantly, to pretend not to be watching, but you can't help it. Natty raises her arms and lets Karina pull off the shirt fully revealing her in her lace bralette. It's pink, it's pretty and a little sexy—just how she described it.

"They really are nice, wow," Karina leans in close and for a moment you think she's going to start kissing Natty right then and there.

Natty doesn't say a thing. She lets the next moment happen, and with their bodies so close you can feel the anticipation, there’s an agonising pause, but, just a moment later, Karina is running a hand up along her belly, cupping a hand over one of her breasts.

"Really nice," Karina repeats the compliment.

And you're all in now. Fuck the TV. You can't peel your eyes away from whatever the hell your girlfriend is about to do.

"Thank you," the girl purrs as she arches her body to push herself against Karina's hand.

A flirtatious hand and those slender fingers of hers begin to move delicately over the fabric. It's a good touch. You've experienced first-hand all the wonderful things Karina can do with it. She touches how she dances—passionate and precise.

"What do you think?" Karina's finally acknowledging you over her shoulder—your official invite to the fun.

"Gorgeous," you mumble, and Natty's smiling like a minx as Karina continues in a way that you should probably be offended. Your girlfriend runs her hands down to the girl's waist, round to the small of her back, and then all the way back to where she starts again.

"Come, take a closer look. What do you think?" Natty follows her words with a wink and a flick of the hair.

"Fuck yes." You whisper under your breath.

"What was that?" Your girlfriend's smirking to herself as you rise from your seat.

"Yes." You take a step towards them both.

"Yes?" Natty repeats, one of her dark brows arching.

"He thinks you're fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Gets a little lost in the moment sometimes." Karina is leaning her head in close, one arm around the girl. She has a finger running up along Natty's slender back as she pulls at the clips holding her bra together. "Isn’t she perfect, babe?"

"Something like that," you confess. You're standing in front of the girls, looking down at the topless Natty, at Karina who's still snaking her hands around her. And Natty looks up at you, eyes wide, inviting, smouldering with passion. She really is something else.

She peers beneath those bangs of hers with a look that says: why don't you sit right here beside me?

"There we go," Karina says and there's suddenly some slack. The weight of her pair is taken by gravity and Natty catches them into folded arms. She sinks back into the couch. You take a step, and taking her lead, you sit by her side.

Karina reaches down, pats you on your leg, then turns back to face Natty. "You were saying you thought he was pretty cute too, weren't you, Natty?"

"Pretty cute, yes. Hot too. Moreso now that he’s up close." Natty says while Karina's got her hands on her shoulders, taking the straps of her bra between her delicate fingers. And then her bra is gone—the last semblance of her modesty lost along with it. Her small nipples jutting, stiffened with arousal, ready and waiting.

"God, he's practically drooling."

"That's hot," Karina comments as her lips descend onto Natty's shoulder and she starts laying kisses up and along her neck, trailing all the way to her ears.

"Sit behind her, babe, let her make it easier for you," Karina says. There is something entirely different and erotic in the way your girlfriend commands you. It’s so often like this, the dynamic, the guest and you are equals but Karina? Karina is a level above, the one in control and setting the pace.

You move yourself further onto the sofa and seat yourself back, then Natty slides over your lap. She takes her place, just as Karina wants, in front of you. The look in your lover's eye tells you exactly what to do, while her hands give Natty some hands-on guidance. Holding her shoulders, she’s placing Natty’s back against your chest. 

You lay your own touch on the starlet’s waist, coiling them around her body. Dragging them up towards her smooth tits causes her to respond with a shudder. You keep your touches slow, leisurely, tentative and exploratory, but with no lack of appreciation.

Natty refuses to shy and settles firmly into your body. Karina, meanwhile, sets herself in front of the two of you, resting her hands on Natty's knees. Your beautiful guest parts her legs a little as Karina slips her hands between them, urging her thighs to open wider. Wider until she has to lift her legs over yours.

"Is this okay with you?" Karina is looking up into Natty's face and the woman simply nods."How does she feel?" Karina's asking you now, placing her hands on the back of yours, guiding your touch over her breast into a rougher pace.

"Perfect." The word slips from your mouth, followed by a throaty groan. Among all of this, Natty's ass is against your crotch, the weight of her pushing your manhood to swell and strain against your clothing. You are thankful she's wearing a thin enough pair of yoga pants that enhances it all.

Karina has planted her knees between yours and Natty's legs. She's pulling her own shirt over her head and you already know what's beneath. For all the talk earlier about bras, Karina isn't wearing one; she never does. "Fuck, Karina," Natty coos at her bare chest. "He likes it too. I can feel him twitching."

Natty’s hands are all over Karina as she pulls her in. There’s grace, there’s tension and there’s a coy giggle from Karina as their lips are only inches apart. The hammering of your heart echoes within as you take a front-row seat to their show. It always triggers something inside you when she first lays lips on someone, it always heightens that delicious, tingling, primal feeling.

"Oh shit, girls..."

Your girlfriend's the best kisser and you love watching her like this—exploring another woman's mouth. Natty is matching her tempo beat by beat, kiss by kiss. Her body arches as you squeeze her breasts. You swear Natty's making little whimpers as the two make out.

Her body is all action against you: ass grinding back, rolling slowly and languidly as your hands pull at her breasts—squeezing them together and then apart. You dip into her neck with your mouth. The sweetness of her skin fills your mouth and the richness of her perfume fills your nose.

You lower your lips and gently nibble at her neck, dragging teeth over her flesh until she gasps from a gentle bite and you work your lips on her skin. Tongue roaming as you feast on her taste. Karina's pushing forward now, Natty sandwiched between you, their pairs of tits pressing together with your hands somewhere between.

They break, and Natty naturally moves to your girlfriend’s neck. Karina has her sights set on you, prying your mouth from Natty's shoulder and catching you in a deep kiss. Tongues battling, clashing. There's the familiar fading taste of red wine in her mouth, and the unmistakable flavour of something foreign to you, the lingering taste of Natty.

She pulls away from your lips, staring down the two of you. There's dissatisfaction on her face. "Why aren't the two of you naked yet?"

She pulls at Natty's hips, relieving your cock of the pressure of her sitting on it, and you hold Natty so as to not let her slip too far away. You and Karina work Natty's yoga pants, and her panties, from her hips. They slip effortlessly down to her ankles, leaving her decidedly bare.

No one speaks and you all know this isn't the time to explain anything or ask questions. When her clothing is out of the way Karina descends upon Natty again, kissing her hard and you catch the dying whimpers of Natty's moans into Karina's lips. Karina's hand is snaking down Natty's back, reaching for your crotch. She unbuckles and opens your belt all the time fighting against Natty's movement as she tries to grind her ass back into you.

"Stop moving." Karina giggles into their kiss as her hand delves beneath your trousers. She breaks her kiss again. "Need some help."

Natty's peeling herself away from you, turning to face you. Natty's naked, Karina's halfway there, you're the one slacking. Not for long. Soon the two are tugging away all the unnecessary clothes until all three of you are equally exposed. Your cock stands heavy and ready under their gaze.

"Woah, you weren't lying." Natty's figuratively licking her lips, hungry and wide-eyed, and you'd bet your last dollar she's got an idea in mind. "Can I...?" Natty turns to ask Karina.

"I'd hate to be selfish." Karina shrugs her shoulders and winks. You're transfixed. There's natural magic about the way they move as if it is rehearsed; the way Natty sinks to her knees and the way Karina pulls your hips to the edge of the seat, then rises above you.

Karina hovers and watches, Natty leans in, and then your balls disappear into her mouth. She’s handling them with her tongue expertly as she takes hold of your cock.

"God, what a pro. She wasn’t lying when she told me she knew her way around a cock," she exclaims, savouring every second as the air rapidly leaves your lungs.

It is beyond explanation, the way Natty's tongue is dancing along the underside of your balls as her lips caress each one. Her eyes occasionally flick up and flash mischievously—it's the kind of look that means she could get away with absolutely anything, and there is no way you are going to stop her.

"She's got the face for it, doesn't she? Like she just gives the most amazing head." Karina's on her knees by your side, sliding a hand between her thighs.

"Y-yeah." You manage to reply. "S-so... ahh! Good."

Karina leans forward, cupping one of your cheeks as she looks into your eyes.

"He's speechless!" She laughs, moving a hand to the back of your head and tugging gently at the strands. "Natty baby, give him a few words or something, will you? If you can?"

It's hard to look at her, but you crane your neck and you catch her looking at you again—one hand upon your inner thigh, the other wrapped around your shaft. "That's a good boy," Natty murmurs.

She teases a thumb over the surface of your glistening wet tip. "She loves that shit. Watch her..." Karina explains, smiling, the delight on her face all you can look at for a moment or more.

She guides your chin and you follow your girlfriend's direction, then you see, Natty's taken her mouth from you for a second and she's licking your pre-cum from her thumb; her gaze on the pair of you. She repeats her motion once more and the grin on her face grows bigger as you leak another pearl for her.

"How does he taste?" Karina asks for both of you.

"Delicious." Natty answers—now she's literally licking her lips.

You'll believe anything this woman tells you.

She's running a teasing tongue along the underside of your shaft, and as she reaches the peak, she catches the snow-white trickle you drip right there. You close your eyes in ecstasy, but before long, you’re feeling a finger poke against your lips.

You part them open, letting Karina's two fingers inside, and she's running her digits over your tongue as you suck her fingertips. The taste is so undoubtedly her, nectar straight from her source, your mouth salivating for more.

The feel of Natty's soft plump lips against the end of your cock is incredible as she moves them in an inch, teasing, testing, and then she withdraws just the same and you want to cry out. But you can't, Karina still lubricating her fingers, your tongue swirling around the digits.

She withdraws and your eyes open. And as much as you wanted to see Natty ready to settle her mouth around your cock, she's got something else in mind. She has her tits in her hand. "Are they still gorgeous?"

"Yeah, totally," you sputter.

"Natty girl, let him fuck them." Karina tells her and then she turns to you, mouth to your ear. "You want your cock between them, don't you? Tell her." Karina's not leaving this up to interpretation. "Tell her you want them."

"Oh yes..." you blurt out, without even really thinking. Karina giggles—it's her sign of approval, a tick. "Your tits, Natty. Fuck. Please."

It's not something you haven't done before. You love Karina's pair too, after all. It would be hard for anyone with a dick to resist a pair of round tits like hers. Luckily for you, tonight she's brought you a girl with a pair to match her own.

"He asked so nicely."

"He's a real gentleman," Natty teases and she raises her breasts a little, then pushes them together. As your head slides into her cleavage, she puts her hand around them, and as the skin squeezes the sides of your member, you are reduced to shuddering. Karina knows exactly how this gets you, knows just how this can bring you undone. It doesn't even matter if the actual thing feels nothing like sex—you'll always go crazy over a great pair of tits.

As the tip of your manhood peeks out through the crease between them, Natty lowers her tongue to it and you swear you nearly cum right then. Then the words echo inside your brain: he wants them, Karina's voice and as soon as she says it, your subconscious concedes to the reality.

"Look how easy and willing he is," she says to Karina and both girls giggle, then Natty forms a mock pout. "Such a good boy. I really want to make him feel good."

"He does deserve something." Your girlfriend runs her fingers into your hair as Natty plants a soft kiss onto your cock-head. Instinctively, you reach out but before you can touch anything, Karina's hand finds your wrist. "Tell her what you want."

She's leaning in closer again and Natty looks up from where she's teasing your tip, sucking, tonguing and lavishing affection and attention. "Ask Natty nice. Tell her you want a blowjob. Tell her you want to cum. Tell her what you want," Karina purrs her words.

And god, if anything makes it impossible to think straight, it is Natty's gaze up at you. She wants to make it easy for you, impossible to do anything but give in to your wishes, whether it’s her intention or your deep-seated desire making it seem so.

"Natty... can you suck my cock?" Your mouth's dry and the words grate in the throat.

"Anything," she says with a twinkle in her eye. And now it's all one motion. Her tits clamped against the sides of your length. Your cock drives between them and into Natty's waiting mouth. She's all tongue, bobbing her head a little and taking the tip of you in and out of her mouth.

Karina's all over you—kissing your neck, holding a hand behind your head, caressing, squeezing. "Aren't I just the best? Always doing this for you with all these girls." She's muttering away in your ear. The heat of her breath is constant and burning. She continues with sweet nothings in her deep, sultry voice.

You're sinking deeper into the couch, like you're laid on the shore and the tide is enveloping you. Wave after wave crashing against you, rolling, engulfing you and drawing you out further and further. Natty is pulling you under; every time she takes you into her mouth, wrapping her tongue around you, it's another wave over you. Karina is a life rope. You're grabbing onto the strands of her ponytail, trying to keep your head above the water. All her touches, her words, her encouragement, that's the air you need.

But the torrent grows ever more intense and powerful and the riptide is too great, Natty's drawing the last vestiges of resolve from you. You lose grip of everything—of reality.

You're lost.

Lost in her mouth, lost between her tits.

Karina knows it, she's seen it all before, so many times, for her and others. "Feel like you're gonna cum?" Karina's in your ear asking you the obvious.

Your answer's a growl.

"Cum!" It's a low-roar in your ear.

You don't say a word.

"All over those perfect fucking tits. Her mouth, her face, look at her," and then that's it. You're drowning in pleasure. Every sense abandons you—hearing, touch, and sight, all surrendered.

You can't think or do anything, because every fibre of your being is focused on a single action—pouring out cum. You're rigid and straining.

Your eyes regain focus and you see it all. All of it smearing her tits and just a little on her face, and then more streams erupt. Natty doesn't shy and she doesn't stop. She is milking you for every single drop.

And Karina's ever the encourager, ever full of pride. "Just like that, yes. Empty all of it right there on her chest."

This is her thing now. Has been for a while, ever since she convinced you to try it just one time. Her imagination was fueled by all those dirty little stories she read online about voyeurism and the like. It opened her eyes and redefined your relationship. It started with an experiment. With her best friend, Winter, all those months ago. It was the first time she took enjoyment in her friend getting you off.

Now it's a regular surprise. Sometimes they're girls you met many times before, almost like she was dangling them in front of you, teasing you. Other times it's just like Natty. You barely say a few words to them and before you know it, you're covering them in your cum.

Truth is, you always get the gut feeling when it's one of these nights, as soon as Karina and whichever girl it is start their first drinks of the night; you know it's one of those nights. Then it's just a case of waiting.

Natty didn't take long to get on her knees—she must have been excited.

And lucky for her, you're nowhere near being finished.

Karina is prowling and on the move, towards Natty, and she reaches her with both arms as she locks her into her grasp. A kiss, deep, hungry. All tongue. Seeing is believing; some of you ended up inside Natty’s mouth and now she’s sharing, distributing to Karina. Back and forth it goes between their mouths, with some spilling from their lips. As it’s shared, it’s swallowed bit by bit between them.

"Your turn Natty. I want to watch you cum for me." Karina announces she breaks away, then lapping up what remains on her lips and she has a hand on Natty's chest, playing with the mess you made of them.

You're lying there, spent and watching, as Karina guides Natty to her feet.

"There you go," Karina is pushing the girl towards the couch and she gets to the edge, then places a knee on it. Your eyes drift over her body as Karina bends her into place, her sticky chest planted against the cushions. Her juicy ass is in the air and the light in the room highlights every line and contour. Her flawless curves are accentuated to their perfect best.

"Legs wider, yes, yes. That's perfect," Karina's voice cuts through the air. She's behind her, hand on the small of her back, urging Natty into position. Lower and lower, Natty's head pressed into the cushion; she's turning to look at you, face full of excitement, of yearning.

A quiver passes through her entire body as Karina's lips descend upon her lower back.

Then lower, kissing her tailbone.

Her ass.

Lower and lower, peppering her skin along the way, Karina finally nestles between the two cheeks. Then she places her hands on Natty and starts parting them. "Perfect. Isn't that so perfect?"

Karina doesn't wait for any reply from you.

She doesn't need to. You are fixed there, utterly mesmerised, entranced and completely undisturbed, watching this gorgeous woman lay tongue on her newest conquest. Karina, meanwhile, can't contain her excitement. She's feasting on Natty, lapping at her sex, diving lower and lower with her tongue. "Oh yes. You taste so good."

Everybody's taste is unique. Just as her aroma earlier was something you couldn't put into words or compare, you can only imagine how sweet Natty must taste. And as if she reads your mind, Karina adds to the narrative, "So sweet."

And the sounds.

Fuck. The sounds. 

Natty moans, loud, sharp and high. You should have known it, her voice being what it is—the tone; so unique, so unmissable. You should have expected the melodic composition. The pleasure is pure, crystal-clear music. It's perfection in sound. It's the kind of musicality people work their entire lives to compose, to play, to express.

To do all without a care in the world.

With as much freedom, spontaneity and energy as possible.

The tone shifts, and the octaves change. And it's Karina, playing her, burying a pair of fingers into Natty.

There is no question here. The two are in sync. Karina, a performer by profession, plays your guest as if Natty is merely an extension of herself. Your girlfriend, in her element, her playground, her stage and her domain. You are her audience. And she has never sounded, looked, or acted so majestic in her role.

Natty sings a string of profanities, nonsensical and fragmented phrases.

"That good?" Karina exclaims, teeth digging into her butt cheek as Natty spills into the cushion. Her legs quiver. Karina smiles into her ass, nipping her a second time and then she turns to you, staring at you with the same dark hunger, the same thirst, you always see.

"You still with us, babe?" she asks—rhetorical, she know’s you’re fixated. There's no question in her mind. She can read you and she knows how captivating this performance is.

"God yes," you whisper in reply. She's smiling wide.

"Good." That one word response, so laden with meaning.

It's a dangerous smile. It means only trouble. Good trouble.

"Come here," she's beckoning you behind Natty. Your legs feel weak and like jelly, yet you crawl up and behind her, your hand slips up to her thigh, pressing, pawing and grabbing her flesh. She purrs at your touch, and Karina, too, responds with delight.

"Natty," you begin, feeling her ass under your touch. "Do you want me inside you?"

"Mhm. Yes."

Karina slips a hand around your erection, her wet, lubricated fingertips meet your skin and when she says, let me get you ready for her. That alone could have done the job. But, damn, her hand feels so good as it strokes. The motion's just the right pace and when her grip gets tighter, a tremor courses through you.

"You did such a wonderful job already." Her praise is just as nice as her tongue running along the side of your length and then her lips, pursed, locking onto the tip.

"Karina..." it's a long-drawn groan. She lets her tongue swivel over you, each stroke lasting longer and longer. The more she continues, the more feels you grow and get hard—she works you until the last ounce of sanity leaves your brain.

Then she draws away and finishes her sentence, "I told you, you're the best. Now look at her, look how needy she is." Karina's still got a hand on your cock and the other caressing Natty's cunt.

Natty’s now the girl in the center of it all. Her beautiful face turned, eyes closed. She's twitching, aching, longing. She whimpers, and then gasps in desire as you angle your cock at her slit. Her folds open gratefully and the wet warmth of her sex embraces you. Her groans rise again, heightening ever more in the satisfaction as she backs herself further onto your length.

You move, thrusting into her, and she breaks into a tempered moan.

"Oh yes! God, yes."

And you feel a hand grab at your backside, encouraging, guiding, demanding more of you. She partners her touch with an all-telling grin. Karina's about as happy watching you fuck someone else as she is being fucked.

"That's it... You like it like this Natty? Does this feel good to you?"

It's a silly thing to ask, but it still makes Natty stir. It makes her hot—burning hot. As soon as the words are out of her, and she follows with a moan, she becomes tighter around you.

"Ah! Yes, yes, yes..." she trails into several more repetitions as you angle deeper into her.

Your girlfriend is dancing her fingertips over her skin. "So amazing," your lover is still muttering her words. "So fucking hot," Karina says as she tracks her kisses up Natty's back. Gentle kiss after gentle kiss to her glistening back as Natty keeps driving her ass back against you. 

There is the unmistakable look of an idea forming in Karina's mind. She's climbing onto the sofa, crawling past Natty onto the back of it, where Natty's head is pressed against the fabric. Natty grows hesitant at the expectation of what's to come, and it allows you to take over. A hand on either side. You're gripping her hips and really fucking her, pushing your cock fully into her and stretching her.

You see Natty's fingers wrapping around the bottom of the sofa cushions in an iron grasp, trying to bear the surge of bliss. She shudders and clenches up as Karina runs a set of nails up her back.

"Yes, baby, you take her, don't be afraid," Karina hisses her words, raking at Natty's back with her claws. "Harder." Karina demands and you pull on Natty's hips, pulling the gorgeous young woman into your hips as you fuck.

Karina's sliding into where she wants to be, right in front of Natty's face, sitting where she rests it. She's handling her like the toy she currently is, pulling her head exactly where Karina wants it, and coercing Natty's mouth onto her. To bury her in and make her satisfy Karina's craving.

And Natty wastes no time, sliding her lips onto Karina, exploring her core the way she has explored her mouth. "Just like that," your girlfriend cries as she rests a hand on Natty's head and rocks back against her. "See, I knew you'd be perfect for us."

You have to admit, Karina nailed it with this one. Before any of the girls even step into the apartment, they know why they're there, but none of them are as ready for it as Natty. It must be a deep, dark fantasy of her own, maybe something she's played out in her mind over and over. It must have been burning inside her before even that first taste of red wine.

Red wine.

That's it. That's how you knew it was always going to end up like this. Fuck, you must be a fool for having missed it all those times before. It's so obvious now that it's when she drinks red wine with them—that's the signal of how the night's going to end. Your subconscious had made the connection, now you realise.

You smile to yourself in the moment of clarity and Karina has noticed, breaking through her moans to ask, "You look a little lost back there, babe. Something funny?"

She's got a coy grin on her lips and her hand gripping Natty's hair, grinding the woman's face further into her pussy. It's a stream of muffled moans from Natty between her hungry licks of Karina's cunt. She's all action between you and Karina's stare. "Nothing."

You raise a hand and spank Natty's ass; the echo fills the air and her cheek ripples. Karina flinches with surprise and she's drawing the young woman further into her body. "Jesus, fuck. Again."

Again and you lay your palm on Natty. Harder. She mewls in pain and Karina shivers in bliss. Her fingertips dig at the younger woman, grabbing her by her scalp and pushing her harder.

A final time you spank her ass, planting your hands and digging your fingers into her soft flesh. Using the strike on your mount to signal one thing; faster.

You're reckless now—manic. Grab her ass and pound; that’s all that is on your mind. You're rabid—not holding anything back. This is the sole reason that girl's here tonight and you're not letting her down, nor Karina.

You hammer against her body, deep into her depths. Her cries echo over Karina's. Each hit a satisfying smack to Natty's cheeks. Slaps and claps and cries. Sounds fill the room. The wet squelch, the grunt of every stroke to the backing track of Karina's rich mewls.

It's a symphony, eroticism on an epic scale.

Your eyes roll upward, over Natty's body and land on Karina. She's bouncing on Natty's tongue. Head back, face creased with pleasure. A grimace so beautiful that you swear it is the definition of raw sexuality.

Natty's struggling; her legs are giving way and she keeps reaching with her hands. To the couch, the cushions, Karina's legs, to anything. There is no steadying her, and it looks like she's barely clinging on for dear life. She has only her waning strength and determination holding her together.

You think she's cumming. But fuck, it is hard to be sure. Maybe you should slow down, but if she is cumming once, better to make it twice. Or thrice. So, you pick up the pace instead. You become wilder, stronger, faster, more forceful.

She's not even eating Karina's cunt anymore—she just can't. You grab Natty's arms and pull her upright so she doesn't slip. Chest to back now—she’s against you and your thrusts drive upward into her.

Natty wails and all the while, Karina is sliding down the couch onto her knees, face to face with Natty. She brings a hand to Natty's throat, grabbing and pushing to pin her against you. And her other hand is sinking between Natty's legs.

Karina's teasing Natty's cunt with the soft caresses of her fingers, and you're sliding between those fingers and into the girl. "Look at you," Karina's saying between clenched teeth, then a loud hiss passes her lips. "Oh, fuck."

A fire blazes across the brunette's eyes—you swear it is an inferno. Fingernails and knuckles are going white in her grip of Natty's neck, and the same could be said of yours holding her arms.

"Oh, Karina!" Your newfound fuck toy screams your girlfriend's name out at the top of her voice.

Karina responds by rubbing her fingers on Natty's clit, then pressing hard, strumming it at a maniacal pace. She's whispering into Natty's ear, words only the girl can hear, coaxing something out of her.

Natty screams again and again. Your name then Karina's.

She's cumming. 

Not just that, she's fucking squirting.

Her body's a boneless jelly in your arms as it spasms. And your girlfriend just won't stop her mischievous act, not a single pause until she's dragged more from the young beauty. She's dragging her second and then a third eruption.

It pours. It flows. Eruption is exactly the right word. 

Natty's spraying onto your cock— 

onto Karina's fingers— 

down your legs— 

on the couch— 

everywhere.

You've got an ardent geyser in your grip and her voice cracks, the climax too much for her, for any of you.

In a flurry of a moment, Natty falls, slipping from your grasp and collapsing and sinking against Karina's chest. Limp. Saturated and dripping, sweat and cum.

The girl has come undone.

You've slipped out of her, set her free, but you're ready to burst. Staggering behind her, a mess and almost drunk on sex, you catch your breath. "Karina... I..." you begin.

"Look at the mess she made." Look at the mess she is. 

Karina's laying the girl down to the side; Natty is almost lifeless aside from the aftershocks still tearing through her.

"Karina..." you try again. "Karina, please..."

"Come here sweetie," and that's enough. You sink to your knees on the edge of the seat. Karina's in front of you, grabbing at your erection and lying back. You're collapsing over her, propping yourself with an arm. She's pulling at your cock. It doesn't take much and you're about to fire.

"Please Karina, please" you growl and Karina whispers back the sweetest reply, 'I love watching you do this'.

She's tugging your cock, aiming it at her wet cunt, freshly eaten.

Then your legs grow heavy and stiff, it's impossible to move, muscles tense, locking your body in place. Karina's jerking your cock and it's impossible to hold it.

Release.

It comes.

You can't explain, words can't describe it, the sheer, earth-shattering and mind-numbing rush as it pours. Spurt after spurt, you feel it all come out, and through your hazed vision you're watching it pour over her cunt. Some on her abs, some on her thigh, but most of it coating her pussy. It is all you want to see before you fall, slipping onto her, your head in the nook of her neck. Her words are just a noise in your ear.

"Stay with us," it's her soft voice that you feel vibrate in your ears as her chest rises and falls beneath you. "Natty? Darling, you too."

There's this moment of near silence. Three sets of heavy breaths.

There are things you know to expect before long, but in this space between you don't really know where it'll go. It’s all wild in the night.

"That was... fuck. Intense," you begin, laying the seeds to push the three of you to the next course, "Wasn't it?"

Karina's responding with a push at your shoulders, making you look at her. Her features, still so sharp, she's still so elegantly composed, the dark and playful look hasn't left her eyes. Her smile endearing. "We're not done," she begins, a whisper into your mouth as you lean over her.

Hand grasping your cock, firm, and she’ squeezing a drop or two more out. "I want you inside me." She demands it of you, of your spent dick. This is always the danger. You're just a single cock in a game that demands more.

It hurts as she rubs your cock. No matter how gentle her touch, it feels rough and you wince in her hold, it's raw pain and all you want is to draw back, but you stay. You have to stay. You want to stay. Refusing to let the pain, the momentary sting and discomfort end it. "Give her what she wants," it's Natty's voice, from beside the two of you. Who knows where the young girl even got the strength?

“Please,” It’s rare that Karina pleads, but her mouth is on your ear, nibbling softly. Her hot tongue traces the shell of it and the whole motion gives you a shiver that makes the hair stand on end. "Come on." She coaxes in a sultry, yet playful, sing-song voice. It makes her intentions unmistakable.

You draw your body back and rest on your knees, looking at the two girls, side-by-side, one melting and the other keening. Your heart is still trying to get out of your chest, but somehow the sight of them has calmed you. They make it all feel a little easier.

"I'm sure your cock can still work for me," Karina's words are undisguised lust.

Natty reaches a lazy arm, working her fingers into the cum you left on Karina's body, playing with it. She begins painting Karina's belly, streaking it over her skin. "So much," she purrs, adding a moan as a compliment, her tone soaked in desire.

Karina takes her own finger to it too, dousing it in your fluid before taking it to Natty's lips. It's a question that goes unspoken, not one word, one command, just a mere motion. Natty's reply is perfect; she opens her mouth and accepts it eagerly, slipping her tongue onto Karina's digit and suckling it. 

Natty returns the favour, her finger into Karina's mouth. They're both sucking, tasting, swirling their tongues as you watch, drinking the liquid, gulping it down, savouring the taste. Their eyes locked in an impossibly sinful gaze. Neither can bring themselves to break it.

They only give in and finally end it when their bodies move instinctively, rolling in to a desperate kiss. Mouths together, sharing the fluid back and forth in a series of dirty, noisy kisses.

Natty's running her hand down Karina's body, running it through your cum and heading right for her cunt. One finger sinks inside, met by a silent whimper from Karina and a second finger joins the first as the girl's now twisting inside your girlfriend. She draws in and out, each time pulling more of your cum into Karina's hole.

And your cock, exhausted moments before, now wants to wake. It's stiffening, not too far from hard once again. You're a moth to a flame and Karina's burning brighter than ever. 

Natty's insatiable thirst is getting the better of her and her finger fucks your lover relentlessly.

Karina's mewl of satisfaction turns into a blissful howl. And when you climb between the girl's legs, finding them parted, you grab her behind the knees. Karina moans once more when you move to slip her ankles over your shoulders and Natty is forced to concede. Your stiff shaft, the one Karina has yearned for, drives into her.

Karina absorbs you, clinging, squeezing, and she holds you, embracing you. Her body is soft against yours, yet inside she's hotter than molten iron. She's even wetter, every slick and intimate part of her is grinding against you. "Yes, fuck yes," she's slurring, muttering nonsense.

She's a fucking mess between her legs—there's some of Natty's, there's some of hers, and there's a lot of yours down there, and you're fucking it all into her as lubricant. Natty's forced to watch as you're pressing Karina's knees up to her chest. She's riding the edge between pleasure and pain and enjoying every bit of it.

And there's no better feeling than when you press her even closer, and now her ankles lock at the back of your neck. Every thrust from you forces her ass to rise from the cushion and her cheeks meet your hips in a way that resembles Natty not long ago. Her tits are pressed almost flat under the weight. She is so open to you—so, so willing. 

Her thighs tremble. Her hands claw. She's losing everything inside herself, everything but the one thing she wants most, a violent orgasm.

It's Natty's turn now, a role reversal, as she tries her hand at the encouragement, the guiding partner, "Harder," her first order. "Deeper," her second. Both punctuated with her nails scoring along your flesh. And in an act that's so entirely Natty, she's now spanking your ass and laughing as she does it. She's playfully flirty and full of giddy enthusiasm.

"Faster." Natty's clapping her hands and she's watching your thrusts drive Karina wild. Every stroke, every strike, all of it Karina is crying out for. Every push forward makes her twinge, a sensation, a mix of pleasure and pain, each jolting through her. "God, isn't she great to fuck?"

"She's the best," you groan, struggling to reply with the only response you can formulate. She is, of course, better to fuck than anybody else. There's no question about that.

"And you," Natty turns to her, "are you going to cum for us now?" Karina's hair sways. Her mouth is full of cries and whimpers. Every roll of your hips, every pull back and every plunge into her pussy steals every breath.

"Yes," she says. "Fuck yes. Right there, baby. Don't stop."

Natty relaxes to enjoy the show. She can see your shaft thrusting. She can see it when you withdraw, almost the full length and then every inch into Karina. Each time, your girlfriend's body jiggles and twists and writhes.

Karina's face grows contorted. A contortion of pure delight.

It's what Natty's been waiting for. Watching. The expectation she couldn't express. The feeling inside her core growing.

"Oh. God!" Karina squeals. She's seeing white spots explode in her vision. A flash of colourful patterns swirl in her head. The white heat rises higher and hotter, so high and so bright it consumes her. She's gone in it. Next comes a sound following a deafening gasp that stops the air dead in her lungs, the release as an equally loud scream.

You hear it, and the heat burns inside your ears, as if sound could cauterize. Every cell of your skin sizzles. It's electric, this passion.

Her cunt turns to water and floods. Your cock is saturated. That's all the reason you need to lose yourself. To slip back and slide yourself deeper into her, pumping. Her eyes squeeze shut and a loud, sonorous gasp is swallowed by her lips. She's never seemed sexier. She is utterly engorged with desire.

"Ah! Ah!" 

You know Karina's at her limit. A dire need for respite, for air to fill her lungs—for relief.

You know what you're going to do. Natty is oblivious, so when you pull out of Karina, and slide over Natty—who's lying on her side facing Karina—it catches her by surprise. One that brings a look of elated shock to her face. You push up one leg and mount her from the side, driving your cock into her.

Karina's drowning in air as she opens her mouth to take all she can. Her vision clears. It focuses on Natty.

The young woman is caught, once again, and in the best way possible; she's lost and helpless beneath you, she has to clutch and clasp whatever's available—the cushions, her own arms—and take it. She's face down to the couch; her body twisted. Her tit's pressed underneath her but her waist rotating, one knee pointing at Karina and one leg straight between your own.

And Natty has taken this all in stride. She's dug her nails into her own scalp, grabbing at her hair. And there is no uncertainty or indecision within her body, nor in her mind. She revels in her vulnerability. She loves the feel of you inside her. Loves the thrill that floods through her entire being as you dominate and ravish her.

Karina makes her move. To join Natty, she slides in on her side, lifting Natty's leg over her own hip, turning Natty fully onto her side to face her. You relent for a moment and Karina does what she needs to. She pulls her own leg up under Natty's and hooks it around her ass. The girls pull each other close. Pull each other into a kiss. Their mouths together. Their breath shared.

Karina whispers, but loud enough you can hear her, and says, "Told you," and her words are all wrapped up in a smirk, the smile of satisfaction.

You slap the length of your cock against Karina's ass; teasing her but not sliding into her. And only when Karina has worked herself up even higher do you lower yourself and slide in, penetrating, filling and stretching.

You're fucking in and out of her. This might be a new favourite of yours. The girls tangled together, sharing kisses and bites and tongue. Both their holes are there for you—each available whenever you want it, and each is only a hair width apart.

It's hard for you to keep a focus on everything like this. But you fight through, burying your shaft inside Karina. Once, and twice, and a final time again. And it's ever so easy to just drag yourself out, driving it between their cunts for a few short pumps and then slip it up into Natty.

"Fuck. I wish we'd done this sooner," Karina is mumbling more, but her words are rolling together and coiling into nonsensical verbal splashes of pure want and need.

Natty strains a response, "I'd... love... to... join you. Often."

"Perfect." Karina is happy as she shifts, arching her body to make a point, to tell you who to fuck now.

And you slip, and then you're inside Karina. As easy as that. Buried as deep and hard as you can, she's mouthing a silent cry and her hair falls over her face.

Natty's got a handful of Karina's tit now, caressing her nipples. It's hard not to envy the beauty that's in her hands. Soft, round, pert, perfectly curved, her breasts are works of art, beautiful beyond anything you could ever put into words.

And all of a sudden, Natty has shifted from Karina's mouth, planting her lips on Karina's soft pillows. Natty is suckling at them and Karina's mouth is twisted open in a soundless gasp, then she speaks, "I could do this forever."

Her arms draw along Natty's body until she finds her ass, slipping down and around, and then her fingertip sinks between her cheeks. It makes Natty lurch as it caresses her taint, presses lower, and touches her tight rear entrance.

Then she does it, a manoeuvre only the confident would have considered, a twist and she's pushing a slender finger into Natty's ass and causing the girl to nip at Karina's breast. "Fuck," Natty hisses, giving a breathy shudder. And her reaction draws a grin onto Karina.

And they keep going like that, they are perfectly attuned to each other. And you swap again, seeing the opportunity to really punish Natty. You're angling towards her again, sliding into her soaked cunt.

You push up inside her. With no time or inclination to start gentle, you're instantly fucking her fast. In and out, hard and deep, over and over, you hammer her cunt. She's muffled with a mouth full of Karina.

"How's that Natty? Both your holes are ours." It's Karina, whispering her dirty words again, "tell us you're going to join us again. Tell us."

Natty nods her head against Karina's chest. It's not a verbal answer. But it's an affirmation that, fuck, yes, she'd like that—as would you all. You could have this again, and maybe soon, a replay with a fresh twist.

Maybe next time you can be the one inside Natty's ass. For now, it's Karina's finger working her, and it looks fucking amazing as it drives into her and withdraws in the exact same rhythm that you're giving her.

You both keep the pace, driving Natty into nirvana, and at some point, it's clear when the climax hits. But it's an awfully hard thing to gauge the passage of time while being wrapped and caught and tangled with these two vixens. All you know is that all too soon, your balls are beginning to churn.

And that's when you switch back again, driving into your girlfriend's cunt with no time for a rest.You're going for broke. Slamming yourself fully inside and Karina knows the instant you do what your fate has become. She laughs and squeezes Natty, pulling the girl tighter.

It's only natural that the rising tide, the bubble of the climactic force, grows and grows and grows. Your ears pound in the beat of the blood racing and your breaths come in fits and starts. The noises escaping your three mouths become louder than before, more frenetic, more unchecked. More lustful.

"Karina— I— Natty—" You're losing the fight against your own body. The rush, the pressure, all the sounds, sights, and smells have put the signal in the green. There is no stopping it. No controlling it. It's all building, coalescing, into one pinpoint of space and time, right there between their legs.

Karina's pulling Natty into position as you're pulling out of her cunt. They both turn to face you, their cheeks pressed together, tits too, and their legs in a knot. They're lying in such a manner that they feel to you like an oasis in a hot desert, inviting, like a promised paradise, and it's calling you, tempting, and you can't hold yourself any longer.

You're rubbing yourself over the edge, and they're calling out to you in a desperate tones, still riding some faint traces of orgasms, "On us."

"Go on."

"Please cum on me, on us."

"Cum for us."

You barely hear their calls, and there's no fucking way you know who is saying what. It's just words of need spilling from two filthy mouths.

It takes only a handful of seconds, and then it happens. 

With a harsh spasm from head to toe, you feel it shoot forward, ripping free from your body, and pulsing as you paint their flesh. Spurts and ropes and slivers shoot up and over the girls. A little on a thigh, on their bodies, over their tits and all the way to their pretty little faces.

They're smiling like idiots as you cum. They're proud of it. They relish it. Natty's tongue moves around inside her lips, just getting another taste—a droplet or two. Karina's teasing as always, "Is that all?"

You're still forcing every drop out you can, the final bits dropping to their thighs.

"There's no way that's all of it, huh," Karina continues to tease. And then it ends, and your body lets go and you fall beside them. You simply can't stand any longer.

"I think that's all of it, Karina," Natty's giggling to herself. She's twirling her fingers over Karina's nipple, playing with the rope of cum that landed there. And Karina is humming out an almost silent cry, twisting under the touch. "Here, taste," and the offer is clear, and again Natty is surprising you.

She offers her own tit to Karina, willing her to lick your cum from it. And the act brings a gleam to Karina's eyes as she cups it, bringing it to her mouth to taste. She's sucking and licking and Natty's gasping at the sensation, and at the way Karina nibbles just a little—just a little too much for it to be painless.

You're laying and watching in awe at the debauchery of the scene and wishing you could watch it forever, or at least capture it. The girls are just lapping at each other now, filling their mouths with your seed and swallowing. Laughing. Panting. Moaning. Sighing. Gasping.

Their limbs tangle. Their tongues too. And it's then you realise, no matter how drained you are—completely fucking bone-dry—these two aren't even close to finishing. There's still a show to be enjoyed yet.

You shift just a little to find the most comfortable view, and Karina's taking control now. Slowly she rolls Natty onto her back, their legs still tied, in such a way that Karina can mount her. Natty's got a playful smile across her lips, looking up, seeing the glistening of cum and sweat shining against Karina's neck and cheeks and mouth, her entire gorgeous face soaked in the stuff.

Karina's getting rougher, her nails cutting into Natty's skin. A hungry bite here, a nip there, another scratch here. She's threatening to draw blood as red as the wine she drank. Right on the edge of true pain, but Natty's relishing it. Her eyes roll back, and she lets out a small squeal. And you watch her buck and writhe. 

Karina grows ever more forceful—pinning her and keeping Natty in place. She's starting to drive her hips against her. The desire is clear; she wants Natty to a delirium.

You can do nothing but marvel at the sight. You may be raw, you may be sensitive, but you're here to enjoy the show that may yet last a whole night.

"Me and you now, Natty. Are you ready to cum for me?"

"Yes," the whimper slips out of Natty. "Yes, anything for you."

[bellyyearner]

Office life at 550+ lbs

Word count: 1061

Extreme obesity, mobility issues, work environment, feedee perspective

No gender mentioned POV

Being a working feedee is hard sometimes, especially when your gain slows down to a snails pace despite how much you've been eating. In the last 3 years you've only put on another 40lbs, but you have an easy job that pays the bills and allows you to live comfortably so you can't complain too much. The only part of this job you hate though, is the journey inside.

As you exit your car you can already feel the sweat forming between your rolls, it's been taking a few tries lately to stand up after swinging your hefty left leg out onto the concrete. You've even questioned if you should bring your car to the shop to check the suspension just in case your fat ass crashing back down onto the driver seat a half dozen times a day might be causing issues. At the very least you were thankful for your personal parking spot only being about 250ft from the elevator up to the office floor. Only 100ft from the buildings entrance and the cold AC running throughout the building.

And so you begin your slow pendulous waddle, thighs scraping against each other with every step, causing so much friction your jeans always have a distinct wear pattern only a couple weeks after buying them. One foot infront the other you waddle, repeating the laboured motion as your breath grows heavy and your belly slaps against the tops of your thighs. Halfway to the door now you hear the clicking of heels against the concrete, 2 interns whizzing by you without a word. You can't even imagine moving as fast as they do, or why they'd even want to move that fast in the first place. Your sense of urgency left you a couple hundred pounds ago.

Another 20 heavy steps later you reach the door, a mailman on the other side who was about to leave opens it for you, clearly staring at your mammoth size and brow covered in sweat. You make it inside and can barely catch your breath to say thank you before he's gone. The AC graces your hot sweaty skin and you feel relief, you spot your double wide chair HR had fought to get installed for you last year, and plop down on it with a huff. All there's left to do is catch your breath for a couple minutes, walk 60 steps through the lobby, turn right, walk 10 steps to the elevator, a minute of standing, and another 30 steps to your cubicle. Where you will then chow down on a couple snacks you brought and rehydrate before looking at spreadsheets and grazing on more food for 8 hours. A routine you had grown so accustomed to that it became second nature.

You look at the handle bar bolted into the wall and remember when you found it insulting, but now it was a necessity. Gripping the bar you start to stand hoping a second try isn't needed because of how many people were in the lobby. You can feel your heart quake and your knees whine but thankfully you hauled your lard laden ass off the seat in one attempt.

The second journey begins and the heavy waddle ensues, gut bouncing, thighs scraping, mouth open and breathing loudly enough that you're attracting attention. You try to ignore their stares but it's only fueling your appetite, already making a mental list of what you're going to grab from the vending machine once you get off the elevator. A few minutes later you round the corner and take the final few steps only to notice a sign on the elevator. You can't read it yet but you can feel your heart sinking already. It can't be right? They would've told you. They would've sent an email or a text. "Out of order".

Panic sets in, you can't climb 4 flights of stairs, you bought a one story house for good reason, you haven't had to climb more than a curb in years at this point. Your mind is growing frantic as you feel the burden your legs are under grow stronger, anticipating if you're really gonna be expected to climb the stairs.

Your phone buzzes, a text from Susy in HR

"Hey! I'm so sorry 'your name', this just happened like an hour ago and I totally forgot to tell you. The elevator is having some major issues and we don't know when it'll be fixed. I dug up that old paper work you filed 6 months ago about work from home and I'm gonna push it through asap! I've sent Lucy downstairs with a work laptop for you to bring home, just take a couple days off while we get all the paperwork in order."

Relief washes over you as you hear the distinct clicking of heels coming down the stairs. You steady your breath and try to seem unfazed, almost certain you look ridiculous.

Lucy: "Hey 'your name', here's your laptop and a cherry cola, figured you would need it before heading back to your car ;). You know I'm gonna miss seeing you around here, less stuff to talk about and no one to gawk at. You have my number so just let me know if you need me to come over to help you adjust"

A quick farewell and her heels were clicking back up the stairs, but all you could think about was how you're never gonna see the inside of that office again. With no where to go and no decency to be upheld there was no reason you wouldn't finally break 600lbs. You chug the Cola, wanting to make one final show for the coworkers and acquaintances you've made over the years, and start the final journey, one to immobility.

With a gassy belly swaying from side to side, your humongous thighs atop fattened lard laden calves carry you through the lobby one last time. Not even trying to hide your burps and groans you walk out of the building, skipping the chair by the door you once saw as a refuge. Thoughts of what takeout you're gonna get delivered and a quickly growing Walmart order forming in your mind as you slowly waddle through the parking lot one last time. All fueled by the dream of being an immobile work from home piggy

Part 2

[jinhyun]

—sugar rush.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: angst, fluff, pining, non-idol au, best friend’s brother au

word count: 7.4k

summary: hyunjin’s heart had been broken by you more than once, and still, he refused to let you go through your own heartbreak alone.

warnings: many mentions of heartbreak, break up, breakdown, and a small mention of weight loss (because of heartbreak).

author’s note: she’s here! tbh i didn’t plan for it to be this long, i wanted to lightly mention hyunjin’s past heartbreaks but once i started writing i couldn’t stop lol. i hope this gives you guys some more insight on their story and feelings. if anyone casually comes across this one shot, it is part four of my social media au “heart out”. i hope you all enjoy! don’t forget to reblog and/or leave a comment if you do<3

The first time Hyunjin saw you, he was only seventeen.

Yeji was in her second year of university and was still living at their family home. She would often tell them about her best friend she made back in first year, and she must’ve shown them one or two pictures at some point, yet for some reason Hyunjin never really got interested enough to actually pay attention — being too busy trying to achieve good grades in the classes he was struggling with the most. After all, after that year he would only have one more to make it to a good university and live up to his parents’ expectations, since his older sister had made it to one of the best universities in Seoul and they were expecting just the same from him.

So, when Yeji called their mother one day and asked if her best friend could stay with them that weekend since she wasn’t from Seoul and was having a few issues with her dorm, Hyunjin didn’t think much of it. If anything, he had rolled his eyes over the thought of having to hide in his room and not being able to raid the kitchen whenever he wanted, not to run into his sister’s stranger friend.

But then you crossed the door later that night, with a shy smile curving up your lips as you introduced yourself to all three of them and thanked them for allowing you to stay the weekend, and suddenly he felt like wanting to raid the kitchen every five minutes that weekend, just in hopes of running into you and getting a glimpse of your face.

One look at you was all it took for him to get the biggest crush on someone yet, and one single weekend into meeting you was all it took for him to know that the immediate infatuation he felt towards you would only grow from then on.

Now, being only three months away from turning twenty four, he could only give his seventeen year old self a pat on the shoulder because of how well he had judged the future of his feelings for you. That, and to comfort his younger self as well, because, God, nothing could have prepared him for what was about to come his way.

Six years had passed in the blink of an eye since then, and here he was, still loving you from the sidelines.

And in those six years of loving you, he had experienced heartbreak three times. All three of them, by you.

You, who didn’t even know he had feelings for you.

You, who didn’t see him as anything other than Yeji’s little brother — not to say your little brother.

You, who had grown closer to him at one point, only to pull away when you fell for someone else.

Hyunjin wasn’t stupid, he knew how the world and feelings worked. He knew a twenty year old wouldn’t fall for a seventeen year old who was in his second to last year of high school — at least not a sane one, and you were very much sane, he found out right away.

Then again, although not stupid, he was still naive. Which is why he believed everything would change when he turned nineteen and became legal.

He spent his last two years of high school focusing on his studies, not even looking at his classmates or at any other girl at school.

He would only see you from time to time, whenever Yeji invited you over, which wasn’t that often given the two of you would much rather hang out alone at your dorm. Most of the news he got from you were because he asked Yeji about you, or, if he was lucky enough, because his parents asked about you when he just happened to be there.

He would also often find himself going through your social media in hopes of you having posted a picture that showed your face. And, sometimes, he would be brave enough to comment on your posts — just casual little comments that would leave him smiling for the rest of the day whenever you replied.

You didn’t interact much back then, and he was okay with it. Granted, he wished you talked more, and he really fucking wished he got to see you more often, but he could deal with it, because once he entered university and turned nineteen, everything would change.

But then, by the time he was nineteen, you were about to turn twenty two. He was only starting university, and you were already in your last year of it.

He refused to let go of the small pinch of hope he still had in him, however. He had made it to your and Yeji’s university, after all, and although he didn’t choose your same career path, he would use being in the same campus to his advantage.

He started by asking for your help regarding small assignments. Whether they were actually hard or easy as hell, risking looking dumb to you, he would reach out and ask for your help. Getting a simple explanation that wouldn’t take you longer than two minutes would make his entire day. You never judged him when it came to ‘dumb questions��, and sometimes, if he was lucky enough and you had some time in your hands, you would take him for coffee — the intention being to properly help him out with his assignments, yet most of the time it would turn out in the two of you just hanging out and having a good time together.

Then, deciding the few times you got to hang out at a café weren’t enough, Hyunjin became more straightforward. He realised there were days you would stay at the library while Yeji went home, as she found studying at home to be more productive, unlike you, and it so conveniently aligned with the days his schedule ended the latest. He used to despise that one last class with a passion, until he found out you were at campus alone by then. So, he took it upon himself to text you as soon as the class ended, asking if you were done and offering to walk you to your dorm.

At first you hesitated, not wanting to take up even more of his commute time, since you lived on campus and he didn’t, but after a couple of times it became your thing, to the point Hyunjin wouldn’t even text you beforehand anymore and would straight up head over to the library; whether to pick you up as you were already placing your books inside your bag, or to sit down next to you and do whatever —mainly staring at you without you noticing— while he waited for you to be done.

Sometimes he would have lunch with you and Yeji. It wasn’t very usual, since he did have his own group of friends, but there were times when he felt like spending some extra time with you, and his sister being there was a good excuse to do so without seeming too clingy.

Some days you would text back and forth. Some others you would text him something that reminded you of him and vice versa. And some others you wouldn’t text at all, but he would find a way to see you.

Before he knew it, Hyunjin grew used to talking to you every single day. And he was okay with it, because by then it had already become natural and you seemed to enjoy his company just as much as he enjoyed yours.

He didn’t get into the same university as you and Yeji just to be with you, of course, but fuck, was he over the moon now that he had multiple excuses to hang out with you.

He wanted to believe that you were at least beginning to move past the innocent image you had of him — the one of him being Yeji’s little brother, and therefore needing protection. He made himself believe that deep down you were starting to feel something for him, even if you didn’t notice. And he was willing to make you notice.

But then the second semester came, and halfway through it he felt you slip away.

Hyunjin didn’t know when or why you stopped hanging out, but he hardly got to see you anymore.

He didn’t think much of it at first. Your schedules were very different now, and he thought that was the reason. You were on your last semester and your times just didn’t coincide like they used to. Simple as that.

You still helped him out whenever he came to you with questions regarding one of his classes, you still smiled ever so sweetly whenever you saw him, you still reached out to check up on him.

But you wouldn’t wait for him to walk you home anymore, and you wouldn’t really text that much either — your conversations going from texting each other the most random of things throughout the day, to you only answering his questions regarding his classes, which, to be honest, were only Hyunjin’s miserable attempts to initiate small talk. You just didn’t seem to check your chats anymore, which he found to be quite odd considering that, whenever he saw you, you would be staring at your phone with the biggest of smiles as you typed away.

It wasn’t until Yeji slipped up one evening, when their parents asked about you at dinner, that he found out the reason behind your sudden distance from him and the giddy smiles you’d get by looking at your phone.

“I haven’t seen Y/N around in a while,” their mother brought up. “How’s she been?”

“Oh, she’s doing well. Just… a bit busy, I guess” Yeji replied, taking a small bite of her food.

“You should invite her over for dinner this weekend” their dad proposed this time. “We were thinking of having a barbecue”.

“I think she’s going out with Mingyu on Saturday” Yeji tilted her head, pensively — completely oblivious to the way Hyunjin had just frozen next to her. “Maybe she could come over on Sunday for lunch? I need to hear all the details about her date after all”.

Clunk!

Everyone turned to Hyunjin, who remained frozen still, yet the metal spoon he had previously been holding in his hand was now laying on the floor, having slipped from his fingers the moment the word ‘date’ had made it past Yeji’s lips.

He quickly picked it up and placed it back on the table. Everyone went back to their previous conversation, like nothing happened. Like his heart didn’t feel like every single inch of it was being pierced right through.

You were seeing someone.

He was in love with you. He was finally of age and somewhat in the same stage in life as you. He was doing everything in his power to get closer to you and eventually win you over.

And you were seeing someone.

That night, Hyunjin went to sleep with a heavy chest and a buzzing head. Unable to understand why it hurt so much and why it wouldn’t go away.

It was later that month, on new year’s eve more specifically, that he finally knew what the heavy chest and the annoying pinch in his heart were hinting at.

“Y/N isn’t coming this year?” He asked his sister when he finally got the courage to, impatiently staring at the clock on the kitchen wall that pointed at the numbers 22:56.

“Oh my God, no, I forgot to tell you” Yeji laughed, placing her drink down on the table. “Mingyu asked her to be his girlfriend today. More like last night, but it was already past midn—”

Everything else after that was muffled by the sound of his heart breaking.

The sound inside his chest was so clear to him, so deafening, followed by an ache a hundred times more painful than the one he felt when he found out that you were merely seeing someone, that there wasn’t any room for him to ponder what it was that he was feeling.

Heartbreak. It was clear as day.

Agonizing, infernal heartbreak.

That night, it was followed by quiet tears, as he lied alone in bed and welcomed the new year with a broken heart.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

The second heartbreak came a year and a half later, when he was torn between trying his best to move on and still not letting go of the nearly gone hope of the two of you being together at some point.

You and Yeji were in her room, and he was downstairs helping their mother set up the table for dinner.

He was trying his best to ignore the fact that you were there. He wasn’t ignoring you, of course — he could never. But you being there made him unable to focus on anything else, and he needed to focus on literally anything else but you.

Ever since you and Mingyu became official, you hardly ever interacted anymore. All his attempts during his first year of uni seemed pointless by then, long forgotten. He ignored the reason, but he guessed it had to do with you only making time for your boyfriend now. As far as he knew, the only two friends you actually made an effort to keep contact with were Yeji and Chan — all the rest, he had not heard from since a while ago. Then again, it wasn’t like you talked that much anymore for him to actually know anything about your life other than the bits he’d get from Yeji whenever she either slipped up in front of him or straight up gushed to him about you.

So, it wasn’t hard to understand that he’d be a little uneasy, jumpy even, whenever you visited.

And it wouldn’t take a genius either to imagine how much he dreaded the moment his mother asked him to go up to his sister’s bedroom and call the both of you to go downstairs for dinner.

But orders were orders, and so he made his way to the second floor, dragging his feet all the way up the stairs.

Before he could reach the last stair, however, he heard your voice coming out of Yeji’s room, being followed by his sister’s laugh as the two of you were now apparently standing in the hallway, about to make your way downstairs before he could tell you to.

He thought of just turning around and heading back into the kitchen, since he could only guess you were heading over there and therefore he didn’t need to tell you to anymore, but the words he heard coming from your mouth made him stand still in his place.

“Honestly, I can’t believe he took me to his hometown and I met his family already. They’re all so nice it felt like a dream” you beamed.

“Kinda makes you want to become a part of it?” Yeji teased you.

“Yeah…” your voice came out rather shy, and Hyunjin could tell you were smiling. “I barely talk to my family and they were so welcoming it made me feel at home. I don’t know, Yeji, I’m so in love with him and meeting his family made me realise how bad I want him to father my children”.

Hyunjin wanted to leave. He didn’t want to hear anymore. But his feet betrayed him.

“Yeah, let’s get some financial stability before that, shall we?” Yeji chuckled, footsteps sounding closer and closer to him.

“Shut up” you laughed. “Not now of course, but Mingyu’s it for me, I’m sure”.

Move. Hwang Hyunjin, leave.

“I guess I’m waiting for my invitation to your wedding then?”

You don’t wanna hear it. Move!

“Oh, I’m definitely marrying him one day” you giggled. “And you’ll be on bridesmaid duty, so if anything you’ll be the one helping me with the invitations”.

There it was again, the unbearable pain in his chest again.

If he were holding a spoon again, he would’ve dropped it all the way down the stairs by now. Hell, he felt like he could fall down the stairs anytime by now, as his knees felt like they were about to give up any second.

“Oh?” Yeji’s voice brought him back to his senses when it was too late for him to escape — the two of you now right in front of him, as he was blocking the way. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just coming up to call you guys downstairs” he replied in a heartbeat, not sure how he managed to speak without his voice breaking. “Dinner’s ready”.

Yeji nodded, giving you a quick glance before Hyunjin squeezed against the wall so he could make some room for the two of you to start walking down the stairs.

“Aren’t you coming?” You asked him, turning around midway, when Yeji was already on the first floor and you realised Hyunjin wasn’t moving at all.

“Uh, yeah” he managed to blurt out. “Just… need to get something from my room first. I’ll go right down”.

You nodded, sensing something was wrong, yet not finding it in you to ask him what it was.

This heartbreak was somehow worse than the first one, Hyunjin decided once in his room. First, he couldn’t cry and let it out until he fell asleep, managing to keep it from everyone else like he did back then, for his parents, his sister and you were waiting downstairs for him, and he was sure his mum would burst into his room within the next five minutes if he wasn’t with them by then. And, second, it felt final. The first heartbreak came when you started dating someone else, but this one was because you decided you had found your person, the very one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, and it wasn’t him.

A few hot tears rolled down his face, and he harshly wiped them off before taking a deep breath and making his way back down, not ready at all to face you of all people, yet knowing well enough there was no hiding this time.

The rest of the evening was a blur to him. The only thing he remembered was remaining silent and hardly touching his food, later excusing himself when he felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, like he would break down right then and there if he stayed one more second in your presence, and then nothing.

A blur.

Any small glimpse of hope he managed to keep that past year and a half was now gone.

He couldn’t afford to be torn between moving on and waiting for you anymore, because you had made your choice, and it wasn’t him. It would never be him.

Your heart belonged to Mingyu, and he would have to finally come to terms with it.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Two other years had passed since Hyunjin decided to move on from you for good, and still, he was hardly there just yet.

He wanted to believe he was over you. He told everyone —that being Han and Minho, the only ones who knew he ever had feelings for you— that he was over you. But deep down, he knew he wasn’t.

In those two years, he tried to give relationships a try. Both times, unsuccessful — because no matter how much he progressed, any time he saw you, he would go right back to stage one.

His first girlfriend was Seoyun, a girl he met through a dating app. Not his proudest moment, but he needed to get over you and he needed to get over you fast. His intention was to go for something casual. Just date, date and date, as many people as he could, until he could finally move on from you; but he soon realised that casual flings just weren’t for him. If he wanted to stop loving you, he needed to love someone else, and Seoyun seemed like the best candidate for it.

They lasted three months, and although he tried his best, he couldn’t fall for her. Not in the way he fell for you. Definitely not in the way you had fallen for Mingyu, who was still getting all your devoted love as you seemed to be happier together by the day.

His second girlfriend was Nara, a girl from his calculus class. This time, she chased after him, and after a while he figured why not give her a chance. His feelings for you weren’t lessening any more and neither were yours for Mingyu, so he needed someone to help him get rid of them.

He realised it was unfair to her, but he tried. Just like with Seoyun, he really tried to love her. She was great. She was pretty, she was funny, and she was head over heels for him. She met you outside his family home one day when you and his sister were visiting and you loved her, to the point of proposing a ‘triple date’, including Chan and Yeji, since they were just then beginning to date. Yeji met her too, of course, and loved her as well.

And yet, he, the one person who so desperately needed to love her, couldn’t.

He was actually sure the day you met Nara was the moment he realised it wasn’t working out and it would never work out — when you proposed a triple date and he could only think of how fucking much it would hurt to sit there and watch you be all lovey dovey with your boyfriend, while his own girlfriend was right there with him.

They had recently turned five months together when it happened, and that was as much as it lasted.

Hyunjin gave up on dating entirely after that, at least until he could get one hundred percent over you. He couldn’t just try and —unsuccessfully— force himself to love someone else while he still loved you, for in the end he’d only end up using them for his own benefit, and he hated himself for it.

He could only put his faith in time now. People always said that time heals it all, and he was really counting on it to let go of you.

But then time passed and instead of it healing his heart, it broke yours.

You and Mingyu broke up overnight, and although Hyunjin should’ve been hopeful, happy even, over the news, he realised his lingering feelings for you were very much alive when, to his own surprise, he felt his heart break for a third time.

He was at Yeji’s that evening — being too bored at his shared place with Han, he decided to annoy his sister for a while and be bored at hers instead.

Hyunjin was looking for a snack in her kitchen, when a knock on the door caught his attention. He wondered whether he should ignore it since Yeji was taking a shower and he most definitely didn’t want to deal with strangers right then, but ultimately he walked over to it and looked through the peephole when the knocks became louder, only to see you on the other side of it.

The smile that formed on his face at the simple sight of you was gone the moment he opened the door and took in how miserable you looked.

If that alone told him something was wrong, when you didn’t perk up like you always did whenever you saw him and barely even acknowledged him as you made your way inside, he knew you weren’t thinking straight right then.

“Um… are you okay?” He carefully asked, closing the door behind him as he turned to you.

“Is Yeji home?” You asked instead, voice breaking as you looked around in search of your friend.

Hyunjin nodded. “She’s taking a shower. Shouldn’t take long”.

You nodded, and although you said nothing, the way your chest heavily moved up and down told him you were hyperventilating.

“Y/N…” he called you quietly, almost scared to ask. “Are you okay?”

Again, you said nothing.

“Do you need anything?” He came closer to you.

You shook your head no, blinking rapidly. “Yeji. I need Yeji”.

“Okay, okay…” he said as tenderly as he could. “She’s coming, just—“

“Can you tell her to hurry up? I’m just…” you took a deep, shaky breath; one that made him instantly alert over how clear it was you were finding it hard to breathe. He panicked when you grabbed your chest. “Oh, God, I’m—”

“Hey, I’m here” he said, grabbing your hands and holding them tight as ever. “What happened? Tell me what’s wrong”.

He could see it in your eyes that you wanted to tell him, but although you opened your mouth to let him know what was wrong, no sound came out of it and you ended up just closing it again.

You weren’t able to speak, so he did it for you.

“Did something happen with Mingyu?” He sounded almost scared to ask.

That seemed to hit the nail on the head.

You looked up at him, and he could only grow worried, infuriated, over all kinds of thoughts that ran through his head the moment your eyes welled up with tears.

“Did he do something to you?!”

Your bottom lip quivered.

The first tear fell.

“Hyunie…”

Then you broke down.

Burying your face in his chest, you tugged tightly at his hoodie as you finally let yourself go.

Although stunned and still trying to comprehend the whole situation, Hyunjin didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, scared you’d collapse anytime by then.

It wasn’t like any other cry he’d heard before.

This was different. Your sobs sounded like you were in excruciating pain, like it was hard to breathe, and your chest trembling against his own with every cry of yours felt like it was being ripped open from the inside.

He could only hold you closer, somehow trying to ground you, but it was of no use.

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” he repeated over and over, almost inaudibly under your sobs.

You tried to speak, either to explain what happened or to simply let it all out, but you couldn’t.

You were choking on your own words, and Hyunjin felt his own eyes well up with tears as he hurt for you and felt hopeless as ever, being able to do nothing else but run his hand up and down your back in a poor attempt to soothe you.

When your cries wouldn’t stop after a minute, he whispered a small ‘come here’ before he gently guided you towards the sofa. Slowly, not to break away from your hold, he managed to sit both of you down on it.

Your face instinctively moved up from his chest to the crook of his neck, where you hid it as you tried to calm down your sobs — finding comfort in his familiar sweet scent and in the gentle touch of his fingers running through your hair.

“What did he do?” He asked when your sobs seemed to quiet down.

You shook your head no, tugging harder at the fabric of his hoodie.

“Y/N, please…” he begged, pulling you slightly away, only enough to look into your reddened eyes. “I need to know what he did so I can do something about it”.

“You c-can do nothing about it, b-because it was his—his choice” you sniffled.

“What do you mean?”

Your bottom lip trembled, and for a moment there he regretted asking you that. But he needed to know.

Then, you took a deep breath, opening your mouth for a second and then closing it — the words you were about to say being harder to voice out than you expected.

“He left me,” you spoke in a whisper after a few seconds, and Hyunjin felt his world stop. “He d-doesn’t love me anymore. He loves her. He left me for her, for the one girl I—”

You choked on your own words once more, being unable to speak over your sobs anymore, and so he just pulled you back to his chest, allowing you to just cry until you let it all out.

He hoped you couldn’t feel his blood boiling, because he was seeing red right then.

How dare he break your heart? How fucking dare he leave you for someone else?

He had been wishing to be in Mingyu’s shoes for years now, and he, who had you all to himself in every single way Hyunjin ever wished to, didn’t feel like it anymore?

For years he had unsuccessfully been trying to stop loving you because he knew he couldn’t have you, and Mingyu, the one who had you, stopped loving you? Just like that? Because of someone else?

Who could even fucking compare to you?!

“What happened?!” Yeji bursted into the living room, snapping him out of his thoughts — only a towel covering her poorly dried body and her wet hair leaving a trail of drops behind her. “I heard—”

Hyunjin motioned for her to keep quiet, silently letting her know that he got you and she could go change before coming back to comfort you. It seemed like it would be a long night after all, and neither of them were getting any sleep until you were better.

Many times he had wished Mingyu and you would break up, but not like this. Not with you feeling so worthless and taking the worst part of it.

Not with you feeling the same kind of pain he had felt two times by now, and making him feel it a third time while at it. Because seeing the person he loved with all his being in so much pain, could only break his heart all over again.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

After that night, Hyunjin felt himself grow protective over you.

So, the moment he read your texts, the very ones that mentioned ‘Mingyu’, ‘spamming’ and ‘losing it’ in the span of three paragraphs, he knew he was coming to you. Now more than ever, when your two best friends were out of town and he was pretty much the only person left you had.

His mind was filled with the night you broke down in his arms, and he’d be damned if you ever broke down just like that again and he wasn’t there to hold you.

He knew what the past few months had been like for you, he had been there through it all. From the weeks you isolated yourself and lost weight due to the lack of appetite you experienced through your slump, to your self-loathing ways and your complete loss of self-confidence when it came to showing yourself to the world and comparing yourself to everyone else. Because one thing was to be broken up with, and a very different one was to be left for someone else.

He, Yeji and Chan had been there for you through it all, trying their best to bring you back up and finally feeling like they were succeeding at it.

He felt nauseous over the simple thought of you crumbling down all over again, all because Mingyu decided it would be appropriate to text you regarding your relationship after he was the one to break your heart in the first place.

Therefore, Hyunjin only felt like he could breathe when you were in front of him, having opened the door not even five seconds after he knocked on it, and you looked okay. Not perfect, as the red shade in your eyes and nose let him know you had indeed cried a few minutes ago, but okay regardless. Better than you were the last time you lost it over your ex.

“You okay?” He asked tenderly, entering your place when you moved aside to invite him in.

You nodded, closing the door behind you and waiting for him to take off his shoes before guiding him to the living room, where he found a red blanket lying on your couch and the third season of Attack on Titan playing on the TV in front of it — as expected.

“You really didn’t have to come, Hyunie…” you mumbled. “Talking on the phone would’ve done it, I didn’t mean to bother you”.

“Will you just… stop saying you’re a bother?” He couldn’t help but sound annoyed. “You’re not”.

“But—”

“You’re not a bother, Y/N. I wanted to come here. I want to be here, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, I just…” he sighed, coming closer to you. “You really worried me”.

“Sor—”

“And don’t you dare say sorry for worrying me” he warned you with a taunting smirk this time.

The corners of your mouth curved up at that, shaking your head in amusement before you quietly motioned for him to sit down on the couch.

Hyunjin didn’t wait to do as told, making the blanket aside so he wouldn’t sit on it, and revealing your phone under it for a moment before you took a seat next to him.

“Has he texted you anymore?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“No,” your answer gave him some peace of mind. “I said I’d block him otherwise, so he hasn’t insisted”.

Hyunjin opened his mouth to say something, but ultimately remained quiet. Still, you had managed to notice and didn’t let it slip.

“What?”

“Nothing” he shook his head.

“You were about to say something”.

“I just,” he shrugged. “Thought he’d be already blocked by now”.

You smiled weakly, grabbing your phone and placing it on your coffee table. “It’s delusional, isn’t it?” Your eyes fixed back on him. “I told him the only reason I haven’t blocked him is because we both work for the same company, but honestly I just haven’t been able to bring myself to do it”.

“It’s not delusional…” he fidgeted with the ends of your blanket. “It hasn’t been that long since you guys broke up after all”.

“I know… but given the way he left me and how I’ve seen him and Hayun together at work multiple times, I feel like I should hate him, or at least not love him anymore”.

“Oh…” he lowered his head, hurting at the idea of you still loving your ex. “So you’re still…”

“I’m trying not to,” you confessed — just like Hyunjin, refusing to say it out loud. “It’s just hard, but I’ll get there at some point”.

He nodded. “I can only imagine how hard must it be…”

“Was it hard for you?”

“Huh?”

“With Nara,” you clarified. “Getting over her…”

“Oh,” he bit his lip. “Not really…”

“It wasn’t?” You tilted your head in surprise.

He shrugged. “We only lasted five months…”

“Which is a lot?!”

He smiled bittersweetly. Sure, maybe to some people it was a lot, but it was nothing compared to the six years he had been in love with you.

Your question was being asked about the wrong person, because getting over Nara wasn’t hard at all, given the fact that he was never in love with her to begin with. Getting over you, however? Fuck, there was nothing harder than that.

He could only hope and pray that wouldn’t be the case for you with Mingyu.

“We ended it on good terms” he let you know. “We just weren’t working out. It was for the best, so there wasn’t much grieving, if I’m honest”.

“Hm…” you quietly lamented, staring down at your lap. “I mean, I’m glad you didn’t have a hard time moving on from her, but I guess I can’t ask you for tips on how to move on from someone now”.

He laughed under his breath. Honestly, he sucked at moving on. He was the last person you should come to for advice.

“I guess not… sorry” he apologized. “Time’s supposed to heal it all, though”.

Didn’t work for him so far, but he knew it was the case for most people. Hopefully it would be the case for you.

You chuckled. “Yeah, so I’ve heard. I would just like to speed the process”.

“You’ll get there eventually, don’t push yourself too hard” he offered a comforting smile. “I’m sure going zero contact and blocking him would help, though”.

This time, you couldn’t hold back a throaty laugh that had him quietly joining you right after. “You really hate his ass, don’t you?”

“I’m just saying…” he shrugged once again, trying to act nonchalant, yet failing miserably at erasing the smile curving up his lips. “What happened today wouldn’t have happened if he was blocked”.

“That’s a good point” you agreed.

“What did he even text you for again?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “He just wanted to check up on me, or so he said”.

Hyunjin shook his head in disappointment. “Sounds to me like he just wants to keep you in line”.

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Why text you the day before your anniversary? Why now?” He wondered. “It’s like he wants you to think about it and dwell on it. Like he wanted you to be upset so he could comfort you about it”.

You remained silent for a few seconds, carefully taking in his words.

“I want to believe he isn’t that much of an asshole…”

Hyunjin snorted, shaking his head once again, but this time in amusement. “He’s proved himself to be one more than once by now”.

“Yeah, I know…” you mumbled. “I just don’t get why he’d want to keep me in line now that he’s with her. I mean, he literally left me for her, and she’s so fucking pretty, I…”

“You’re prettier”.

Your eyes shot up to meet his, and he caught a small sparkle appearing in them before you shook it off and decided to joke about it. “Yeji really trained you well for this weekend, huh?”

“No, I mean it”.

“You haven’t even seen Hayun”.

“I have, though?” His eyebrows furrowed. He was there when you’d cry and show Yeji pictures of the girl Mingyu left you for, feeling his blood boil while at it. “She’s got nothing on you, you’re way prettier than her”.

“Hyunjin…”

“I’m serious, Y/N” he stood his ground. “It sucks that you feel inferior to her just because she’s with him, because honestly you’re a thousand times better. And considering she literally came in between your relationship with Mingyu, she’s ugly and unattractive as hell on the inside while you’re beautiful inside and out, so…”

To say you were speechless was an understatement. He was speechless as well, not having planned to go off like that, yet being unable to hear you bring yourself down once again when you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

For a moment there, he feared his feelings for you had been left out in the open for you to realise.

He was lucky you were dense as a brick and still somewhat emotionally unavailable to even think something of it.

“Wow, um…” you brought your hands up to cup your face, suddenly feeling hot. “My cheeks are burning, so I guess that’s enough break up talk for now”.

Although you were avoiding the topic, Hyunjin smiled, lowering his head to hold back a small giggle that threatened to come out of his mouth. He made you feel flustered, that was enough for him to be on cloud nine.

You stood up almost in a rush, looking for the remote before placing it on his lap for him to grab. “Why don’t you look for the summer camp arc while I go make us some tea instead?”

“Are you sure you want to switch to Haikyuu when Levi’s about to get more screen time?” He teased, knowing well enough that you, just like his sister, were a Levi girl.

Snorting at his remark, you motioned for him to go on with your previous order. “I have so many edits of my man saved, I can just look at him whenever”.

Hyunjin chuckled, shaking his head amusedly as he complied with your wishes and exited Attack on Titan to look for Haikyuu instead.

“Plus, Haikyuu’s got Kenma in it, so…”

“He’s a high school student” he pointed out.

“Are you calling me a cradle-snatcher?” You raised a questioning eyebrow.

This time, Hyunjin couldn’t hold back a giggle, finding the way your voice turned a pitch higher in offense to be a little too cute. “Your words, not mine”.

“Mind you, he’s a ‘95 liner” you pointed out, only managing to make him laugh harder. “He’s even older than me!”

“I didn’t even say anything” Hyunjin held both his hands up in defense, failing once more at trying to erase his smile.

God, you looked so cute right then, he couldn’t even be mad over the fact that you didn’t seem to fall for younger guys when it came to fiction either.

“We can skip on the tea if you want, so you can see your man sooner” he taunted, pressing play on the second season before you could leave the room.

Jaw dropping in both amusement and offense, you squinted your eyes at him. “You know, I was bringing you those cookies you love so much with it, but I’m not anymore”.

“The chocolate chip ones you make?” His head snapped back towards you.

“Mhm… I made a whole batch yesterday” you nodded, not missing the way his eyes lit up with excitement. “But you don’t deserve them anymore”.

“You’re not serious”.

“Oh, but I am” you smiled cynically, turning your back to him as you made your way to the kitchen. “Just stay there, I won’t take long”.

“No way, I’m coming with you” he stated, already following hot on your heels. “Those are my favourites, I’m not leaving until I’ve tried them”.

You chuckled, feeling him stand behind you while you turned on the kettle. “I guess I’ve got no choice then, because I don’t have a spare bed for you to sleep on”.

“I can always just crash on your couch, but I would appreciate not having to and getting to try your cookies instead”.

You laughed wholeheartedly, gently shoving him towards the cabinet. “Just go grab a plate, you dork”.

Doing as told, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at you and feel his heart finally be at ease, now that a genuine smile was plastered on your face and your eyes were no longer reddened and tired like they were when he just arrived, but smiling and playful instead. All thanks to him.

And one hour later, when your red blanket was being shared and covering your legs as the two of you sat down on your sofa, and your head was hovering over his shoulder and lightly tapping on it every five seconds, given you were miserably fighting against dozing off while looking at the TV, Hyunjin wished he hadn’t tried your cookies at all, so he’d have an excuse to keep his threatening words and not leave until he did.

He hoped you wouldn’t bring up how late it was and make him leave just yet.

He hoped you would just fall asleep on his shoulder and let him enjoy your closeness for a little bit.

Most of all, he hoped one day he would be able to come over late at night —or at any given hour— just because, not only because you needed him to and because his sister wasn’t in Seoul; and you would deliberately rest your head on his shoulder when you felt your eyelids become too heavy, and he wouldn’t have to wake you up once it got too late and it was time for him to leave, because he wouldn’t have to leave.

But for now, he would let you sleep for as long as he could without falling asleep as well, which wouldn’t be hard, considering he didn’t feel a single pinch of sleepiness as he rejoiced in the coincidental warmth of your body against his.

And if you happened to realise how wide awake he was once you woke up, he would blame it all on the sugar rush he got from all the cookies he munched on while being too immersed in the series.

Using yet another small excuse to be close to you wouldn’t hurt.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @curlytxe @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin @shyshyshytwice @nicoleparadas @​broken-glowsticks @sweetbokji @linavc

[sapphicnae]

No exceptions?

Summary: Regina was mean to everyone, no exceptions. Yet when she was around you, it was a completely different story…

Pairing: Regina x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Just Regina being her mean self! But mostly fluff!

Words: 1.6k

Requested!

A/N: I really loved writing this one-shot, I’m a sucker for seeing Regina’s soft side for the reader and the reader only. I’m hoping to make a masterlist soon so you guys can see who I’ll write for. I’d love to write for any mean girls ships and I have a Leighton Murray fic in mind too which I’m dying to write. Requests are open!

Regina George had made fun of nearly everyone at school. No one was immune to her relentless teasing, that’s just the way it was at North Shore - so why was it that she had never seemed to target you before? You didn’t seem to mind it at all. In a way, it made you feel special.

The first incident of this type of treatment started when you had been walking rather quickly down a hallway to your next class. You had gotten so carried away studying in the library, that you hadn’t heard the bell ring. This led to you rushing to get to math class, not paying much attention to your surroundings. In the next step, you had felt yourself crash into someone in front of you. Judging from the way surrounding voices became hushed and the way you felt as though the halls had eyes all of a sudden, you could have guessed who it was without even looking at them. It was Regina George. In that moment, as you realised the identity of the girl who towered over you, you had braced yourself for an onslaught of insults. Yet they never came. Instead, upon meeting her gaze, you had seen her eyes soften, followed by her giving you an almost apologetic smile. But, before you could utter your own apology to her, she had already disappeared into the sea of students.

You had imagined that moment to have been a one-time thing. Maybe she was in a really good mood that day - anything to brush off her strange behaviour. But then came the second incident, where you had been heading into the cafeteria to grab some lunch and sit with your usual group of friends. As you had entered the cafeteria, you could already hear Regina’s voice loud enough, making her usual scathing comments about people as they walked past her table. Talking about their appearance, their clothes, or their hair - how trashy they looked. Once again, as you made your way past the table where the plastics were seated, you had mentally prepared yourself for whatever nasty comment would inevitably leave Regina’s mouth. Yet, when she had spotted your nervous gaze on her, all she did in return was smirk. You could’ve sworn she had given a subtle wink at you too, but with your racing thoughts, it was hard not to focus on simply making it past her as quickly as possible.

It was twice now, that you had escaped Regina’s infamous wrath. Which had left you wondering the reasons why - not that you were complaining.

It was actually nice not having to worry about being the target of Regina’s verbal attacks. So, within the next few days, you had grown the confidence to gift her warm smiles whenever you would catch her eye on you.

Then came the following week in the class that both you and Regina happened to share. As usual, you walked in and took a seat right in the corner, tucked away from everyone, ready to daydream your way through the hour. You had spotted Regina surrounded by Gretchen and Karen, chatting and giggling, while the teacher droned on about whatever chapter the class would be asked to read for next week’s quiz. You were finding it a little hard to focus on your own thoughts, as you kept feeling Regina’s gaze on you every so often. She was making it incredibly subtle – but not subtle enough.

What broke you out of your daydream was when the teacher seemed to have had enough of the chatter from the plastics, as she had suddenly ordered Regina and Gretchen to switch seats with other students. The worst part about this wasn’t that your daydreaming was interrupted, but that the student Regina was made to switch seats with, happened to be the student sitting next to you. You watched as she had rolled her eyes in the process of making her way over to the space next to you. She feigned indifference, as though sitting next to you wasn’t a big deal.

She had been waiting for a chance all week to finally get closer to you.

You can feel Regina’s presence next to you as you steal a glance at her before attempting to keep your focus towards the front. You seemed to be succeeding for a short while until, in your peripheral vision, you notice Regina drop her pencil. It rolls towards your desk. You have no time to wonder if it’s intentional or not before you feel her lean towards you, brushing her arm against yours as she reaches to pick it back up. This slight touch causes a flutter in your stomach, which you tried to hide by remaining stoic. Though as she rose back up, instead of returning back to her own space, she leaned in close, her lips next to your ear.

“What’re you doing after school, pretty girl?”

Her voice, low and confident, sent a small shiver down your spine. As she moved backwards you felt her eyes boring into you, in an intense yet nervous manner. Caught slightly off guard, you hesitated, wondering how you should respond…

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

This first interaction accelerated the relationship between you and Regina. You began to grow very close and she was making it much more obvious to people at school that you were hers. You would often go over to her house, sometimes accompanied by Gretchen and Karen, sometimes alone. Nothing romantic had happened between the two of you, yet some strange tension always lingered whenever you were around each other. You hadn’t bothered to question it; you were simply enjoying being placed on a pedestal in Regina’s eyes. Though, some of her passing comments would trigger that same flutter in your stomach as the first time she had spoken to you.

In the same class, a few weeks later, you had walked in to take your usual seat. You then watched as Regina struts in and makes her way towards the student who had decided to sit next to you. In the next moment, you saw them scamper away as Regina had ordered them to move.

“It’s nice to see that pretty little face of yours light up whenever I come around”

She whispered in sultry tone, as she settled into her seat. Until she had spoken those words, you hadn’t noticed the shy smile you had been sporting in response to her making the effort just to sit next to you. The remainder of the hour passed by uneventful.

The bell, which signified the lunch period, finally rang. This meant the majority of the class had packed up and left within a minute or so, leaving you completely alone with Regina. The tension that was always present between the two of you, seemed to fill the room once again. Once you had packed your things, you got out of your seat, ready to follow the rest of your classmates to the cafeteria – yet your plans were interrupted after you sensed Regina leave her seat behind you. You felt a hand catch yours which caused you to spin around to see why she was holding you back.

“Regina, I’m so hungry I’m about to ravage the next edible thing I see. What’s up?” You questioned her, with a sense of urgency knowing you were losing your chance to be first in the lunch line.

“Quit whining pretty girl, I just wanted you alone. I haven’t stopped thinking about you allll day.” The tone of her voice practically made you melt in front of her. It was hard to resist her after the treatment she had given you these past few weeks. From the touch of her hand to her soft voice, you had almost forgotten why you were in such a rush to leave the room. Though, now you were alone, you did have one question that had been playing on your mind from the day she started treating you differently. Until this moment you hadn’t realised how much the shared tension had been getting to you.

“Hmm All day?” You fell silent for a moment, hesitating, before continuing “and how do I know this isn’t all a joke, huh? Out of all the people in this school G, why me? What makes me so different from the others?”  You spoke in a curious tone, though remaining flirty. Judging from her break in eye contact, she hadn’t expected you to question her intentions here, of all places. After a moment, she thought of an idea on how to reassure you, whilst still maintaining the tone of the exchange. She stood tall in front of you, pulling you toward her, gripping either side of your waist now. She looked down at you slightly, moving from your eyes to your lips, then back your eyes again. With the corners of her mouth raised, she replied in a low voice,

“You know what I think of most people in this school? I don't. The only person I ever think about is you. I want to show you exactly what sets you apart from the rest…”  Without allowing you time to respond, she leaned her face down, attempting to meet your lips with her own…

“GUYS HURRY UP, IT’S FRIDAY WHICH MEANS THEY’RE DOING CHEESY FRIES.”

Karen’s voice echoed across the room, causing the two of you to jump apart, startled by the sudden interruption. Being lost in the shared moment, neither of you had heard her come rushing back into the classroom to find you. You felt your face grow red hot and saw Regina clearly sharing the same level of embarrassment. After exchanging an awkward glance, Regina gripped your hand once more and led you towards the door, a mix of excitement and frustration left hanging between you both.

[awearywritersworld]

the boy spurned as evil and the girl of his youth

sukuna x reader w/c: .6k tags/warnings: angst, i'm afraid. young!sukuna. depictions of blood. ur dad's an asshole. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: please check out the lovely artwork by @demonzaemon that inspired this piece!!! i'm definitely down to write a second part about a reunion, so let me know if that would interest anyone! masterlist read part two here

thinking about sukuna at 10 years of age— he's been abandoned by his family and scorned by his village because of the strange way he looks. he has to steal stale bread during the night to survive. he has to take shelter in the ruins of an abandoned home. he has to bear the harsh elements. he has to do it all alone.

that is, until he meets a curious little girl by the riverside during the spring. he'd found an old, frayed fishing net the day prior, and while he hopes to catch something he can eat for dinner, he catches your attention instead.

and you marvel at him as if he's the most remarkable thing you've ever laid eyes on. you're poking at the harsh lines that mar his skin. you're pulling at his pink hair because you're convinced it's fake. you're counting his arms as if the extra two will eventually disappear.

he doesn't mind though. he's too caught up in the fact that someone's touching him. that he can feel the warmth of your skin against his. he can hardly believe it when you scamper off, calling over your shoulder gleefully, "i'll meet you here again tomorrow!"

after that, everything changes and he finds himself in your company more often than not. you sneak your meals out of the house each day, even though your portions are meager. you bring him a few of your blankets, even though it means you're cold at night. what he appreciates most though? the fact you look at him like he's human.

then, what is simultaneously the best and worst night of his life happens. you fall asleep beside him in the overgrown grass near the river. its early autumn by now and the stars are twinkling in the sky, so your body clings innocently to his, seeking his warmth.

he takes the opportunity to study you in the moonlight. to commit every detail of your face to memory. he considers the fact that you feel safe enough to fall asleep beside him, even when every other person in the world has deemed him evil and sinister.

eventually he's lulled to sleep by your slow and gentle breaths, but not before coming to the decision that he is yours and you are his. and while you're the only thing in the world that the young boy has to his name, he's okay with that.

then, all too soon, he's awoken by yelling and it's not a moment later that you're ripped from his arms by your father. he's screaming about how you've defiled yourself by associating with such a despicable fiend.

"no, he's my friend! he's good!" you wail, your arms stretched toward sukuna in a plea for help. "don't let him take me! please!"

and he tries. he really, really tries. he runs after your father, beating at his back in an attempt to free you, but he's just too small. his body is weak from years of malnourishment. the older man pushes him to the ground with little effort and sukuna's palms slice open upon the sharp stones protruding from the earth.

crimson spills from the wounds, but he can hardly feel it. the ache in his chest is too consuming. too agonizing. it's unfair that such a little body should house so much pain, but that seems to be the story of his relatively short life.

so as he calls out to you, his voice broken and desperate, he knows it's the last time he'll ever see you and he's forced to come to terms with the universe's cruel edict— that he deserves to spend his life alone.

[fanficsat12am]

how the brothers and datables react to mc who giggles and blushes when reading romance books I Diavolo & Barbatos

A/N: I'm so so sorry for the late update, especially to the requester

Requested by: @katsukistrustychurchshoos

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜 Buy me a coffee? Lucifer & Mammon Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus Beelzebub & Belphegor Solomon & Simeon

Diavolo

As he neared the royal library, he heard a beautiful melody flowing through the crack of the door. Seeing as how no one usually used that room, his curiosity was piqued by what it could have been. Entering, he’s greeted by you jumping around the room in excitement, a big dumb grin on your face. He looks on in genuine interest and wonder, curious as to whether this was just you being you or if you were under some sort of possession—the lateral being highly unlikely but still on the table. You quickly explain to him how you had just finished a chapter from a book you had been reading. He finds this information amusing, listening attentively as you talk about every detail of what you have just read. Not long after, he asks Barbatos to create a small space in the corner of his office for you to read for as long as you please. Whenever Diavolo had to stay a bit later in RAD, you’d wait comfortably by your little space as he worked. Hearing your giggles gives him a sense of tranquility in the midst of all the stress, the sound giving him even more motivation to finish and spend time with you.

In the off chance that he’s free, he reads a copy of the book you had been reading. He ultimately decided to add it to the RAD curriculum, giving the excuse that it’s a part of “Human History”. If he wants to achieve a good relationship with all the realms, then they should start implementing the three realms into their literature, no?

Barbatos

He knows everything about you, so don’t even try to bother hiding your little habit from him. Like Solomon, he finds it fascinating and doesn't really mind it, now curious as to what other things might entail such a reaction out of you. In his free time, he tries to join you, with your permission of course and sits while he listens to you narrate the story. Sadly, with such a busy schedule he’s unable to stay for too long even if he wished to. 

He’d typically leave little treats and some tea for you to enjoy while reading. He uses this as an excuse to catch even a few seconds of you being lost in a story, staying a bit longer by the door before making his presence known. On especially busy days, he'd plan his routes to pass by wherever you're staying just to catch a glimpse of your blushing face.

[bvidzsoo]

Under the pretense (1)

The second installment of Popular boys? Overrated ♡

❝𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢, 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, ℑ 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲.❞

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

🎭Warning: cursing, very slight mention of being suicidal 🎭Word count: 6.2k 🎭Genre: humor, cliché themes, 90's rom-com vibes; University!au; Popular guy!au; Sport!au; Enemies to Lovers!au 🎭Rating: nc-17 🎭Summary: What was supposed to be the best time of your life turned into something more bizarre and only slightly fun. Don't get me wrong, having to share your theater class out of the blue with popular guy Jeong Yunho, to most, didn't sound like the worst idea, but to you...yeah, you would've been more grateful if the principal found other methods of punishment for her son's misbehavior.

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I present you the start of Yunho and our MC's story, I hope it caught your attention and you'll stick around for the next two parts. You can also check out Seonghwa's, which happens in the same universe, it's in the series m.list. The taglist is open, so just lmk in whose part you'd like to be tagged. I made a visual board and playlist for the series, so check them out as I still update them! ^^ Thank you for reading and let me know what you thought of this part, I love reading your feedback! divider

Taglist: @anxiousskylar @philijack @alienvibecheck @yunhosfairy

♡ Series M.list ♡

꧁༺ Visual Board ༻꧂

♫ Playlist ♫

            I had always been a dreamer, a child with big sparkling eyes, eager to discover the world and its wonders. My parents had always considered me naïve and way too kind, but I found life easier to navigate if I remained humble and kind to those around me. I was not too fond of loud spaces and huge crowds, I would much rather prefer smaller circles where everyone came together to spend their time in silence. That’s how I discovered my elementary school’s reading club. I had been young and disoriented after a strenuous P.E. class when walking down the hallway, pushed into a door by two bigger boys as they chased each other down the hallway. The door I was slammed into wasn’t closed, so I very ungraciously fell inside a classroom in which five people sat in a circle, in silence, with books in their hands and candy on the round table. Eyes fell onto me, mostly surprised, and I blushed as I sputtered my apologies, embarrassed and wanting to hide away as I had disturbed their peace, but my curiosity got the better of me. The teacher in the room made sure I was fine and asked whether I wanted to join them when she noticed me staring longingly at the book in her hands. I didn’t say no to her.

And really, that’s how my love for literature and theatre sparked, evolving into a passion by the time I reached my high school graduation. I knew what I wanted to be, I knew what I had to do next. I had been a theatre kid my whole life, so when my mother rushed inside my room one cool summer evening with my acceptance letter in her hands, I knew my life would change in the next few seconds. Allston Hall University, the dream institution of every student who wishes to become someone important and useful in the near future. I was one of those students, tears streaming down my cheeks due to happiness when my mother read the letter, informing me that I had been accepted and was even the student with the highest grade currently. It was a dream come true, everything I have worked for, my aspirations and hard work were tangible, and I finally felt like I could release the breath of air that’s been constricting my lungs ever since I sent in my application. I was rushing towards the future I wanted, the one I had been dreaming of.

But all good things had a downside to them. Allston Hall University was huge, the biggest in our county, and it harboured various majors and many people, to the point you’d have to watch your every step in the hallways to avoid crashing into anyone. My first day, and week, had been nerve-wracking. People were loud and friendly, sometimes too friendly, to the point I felt uncomfortable in their presence and had to excuse myself to take a moment of solitude. Despite being a theatre kid myself, I felt like the odd one in my circle of people, the one that didn’t fully belong, the one that was a bit different. Everyone around me was outgoing and boisterous, eager to be heard, and even more eager to make more friends. I was quiet and curious, but I liked watching people from the sidelines, assessing a situation from afar before jumping into anything. I liked to meet new people, but I struggled to find common ground with them. I never had many friends growing up, most were surface-level, but the one true friend I did have decided to move counties and start working, instead of following an academic path. There was nothing wrong with that, but our time was limited together and she rarely visited, our friendship has transformed into a long-distance one.

But, to my utmost surprise, I didn’t stay friendless at this huge university for too long. As an extracurricular, I have picked up a Visual Arts class since I have been always interested in it. The class was small and filled with people who dressed better than in any fashion magazine I had seen, all of them having a peculiar aura that I seemed to enjoy a lot. And, to my surprise, they were more like me than my own colleagues. They were quiet, mostly sticking to themselves with big headphones on as they bobbed their heads to the music, briefly greeting you once you entered the classroom. They were mostly art majors, but they didn’t make me feel bad for not being one. A passion was a passion, and they didn’t make fun of you for loving what you loved. However, even here, it seemed that there was someone who wasn’t like the others, someone who was loud and energetic, always laughing and joking with students and professors alike. She was like a happy virus, her happy disposition contagious, and without realizing it at first, I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Perhaps it was because we were complete opposites, unlike my closest friend who thought and viewed the world similarly to me, but with Wendy everything seemed to feel like a new experience.

I couldn’t tell when it happened when the two of us became best friends, but it’s been a year since and we were almost inseparable. Wendy loved spending her free time with me, humming to herself and drawing while I wrote sonnets and read through the next play we’d be going through or even performing with Mrs. Jeong. Wendy felt like a fresh breeze, ready to yank me away from my monotonous days, eager to experience something new. I hated amusement parks, but I went to one with her and had the fun of my life, having never screamed or laughed as much as that afternoon. Wendy couldn’t skate, but one snowy evening, I took her to the skating ring and taught her how to find her balance, and through baby steps, she became even better than me. Wendy loved visual arts but she never understood the charm of a book, a play, or a poem, so I brought her along to the reading club I had been frequenting since my freshman year in high school, and it was an unforgettable experience for the both of us, but Wendy concluded that perhaps literature just wasn’t for her. Much similar to my experience, when I let her drag me to Allston Hall’s first baseball game of the year, all excited and giddy to see her favourite players, only for me to conclude at the end of the game that the sport held no interesting elements for me to find likeable or enjoyable, baseball just wasn’t invented for me.

So yes, Wendy and I were opposite sides of the same coin, eager to learn more and discover the world through our own lenses while dragging the other after ourselves. This would explain why we were currently decked out at the bleachers, sitting at the lowest spot as Wendy’s eyes followed the boys while they played a friendly game and warmed up for their very soon upcoming game. Wendy was athletic and loved to get in a good morning run, which she usually did outside the bleachers to catch a peek of when the boys would go in to exercise. It was embarrassing at first, to walk in every second day with her and have the boys gawking at us, but now it was plainly amusing to see Wendy fall over herself whenever one of them acknowledged her. Her father had been a player in a smaller league, so Wendy grew up in the sport, hence her immense love for it. She was convinced the boys on the University’s team were undiscovered gems and she made sure to stick around them until one of them finally asked her out. She thought I didn’t know, but it was rather obvious that her eyes were set on Byun Baekhyun, the biggest trickster on the team with a notorious grip that could send any batter into a spiral when he’d pitch—these were Wendy’s words, not mine.

I continued flipping through the shortened version of Pride and Prejudice as we would soon do a small audition to see who got which role. Mrs. Jeong wanted to do something special and new this year, so there have been added elements to the play—ones that would send Jane Austen into an existential crisis, in my opinion, but Mrs. Jeong likes to think out of the box and considers herself an innovative person—which I agree with, but the play would’ve been best without the modifications done to it. Wendy, sitting in front of me as I had taken the bench between my legs, hunched over my play, sighed dreamily and tapped her fingers against her chin. She was usually a very loud person, but surprisingly she knew when to remain silent, when to give me space and tranquillity to be able to enjoy my reading time. Her short hair stuck to her nape as she decided to run an extra lap this morning, on the verge of hyperventilating when she finally ran inside the arena, spotting me easily as I was the only person in the bleachers while the boys did their warm-ups. Her bag was with me and I knew she refrained from sprawling out on the ground just because Baekhyun was watching her, so I handed her the water bottle with an amused smile. Wendy took it with gratitude and sprinkled some on her face and neck before she took a small sip, chest still heaving from her run.

“That was very sexy of you,” I said with a chuckle as she settled next to me, trying to regulate her breaths as she caught Baekhyun’s eyes, cheeks flushing even deeper as he waved in our direction. Wendy fumbled with her water bottle for a second, then eagerly waved back and pushed my thigh with her elbow to acknowledge Baekhyun as well. I flashed him a smile and gave him a curt nod, which he returned before the coach blew his whistle and called out his name to get him to focus again.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Wendy mumbled, grabbing her towel out of her bag, “my throat was parched and my brain felt like it was overheating.”

“When will you stop finding ways to kill yourself?” I raised an eyebrow and Wendy gave me a look of confusion.

“I’m just pushing my limits, nothing you have to worry about.” Wendy shrugged, taking a sip of her water again, “You know I’m training for the marathon.”

“Right, I almost forgot.” I fixed Wendy with a stare, rather unimpressed as it was impossible to forget that she was training for next month’s marathon. She speaks of it daily, around the same time after she finishes her run and complains about being on the verge of passing out, I’m sure there are other ways of training yourself for a marathon that don’t involve putting too much pressure on yourself and sending your body into despair as it clings to life—a bit dramatic, but that’s what being a theatre kid made of me.

This was half an hour ago, and now Wendy had completely settled down as she was leaned back on her hands, gazing out onto the field as I blocked out the sound of a bat hitting the ball every few minutes, enraptured by the play as I imagined Mr. Darcy standing in front of me, thick eyebrows furrowed and eyes shining with confusion as Miss Elizabeth—me—tells him that he cannot disrespect her whole family and look down on her, and then expect her to fall to her knees and accept his affections. The language was a lot more modern than the one Jane Austen had used, this is where Mrs. Jeong’s crafting comes into play and makes me cringe as Elizabeth is supposed to tell Mr. Darcy that ‘she won’t throw herself at him like every other bitch’, I just knew Jane Austen was rolling in her grave at the atrocity that’s been done to her masterpiece. I could try and convince Mrs. Jeong to modify that part, hopefully, as she’s rather keen on me due to how seriously I take her classes. Cheers erupted on the field and they increased in volume as Wendy gasped next to me, holding her hands together as she was on the verge of shooting up from her seat. The boys were merely training, yet Wendy treated it like a real game every time she got the chance.

“Oh, that’s a home run—” Wendy’s voice was strained, and she sprang up from her spot as the whole team exclaimed, making me lose my train of thought as I couldn’t focus in loud surroundings, “Seungkwan just hit a home run!”

I looked out towards the field as the boys crowded around Seungkwan, forming a circle as they made howling sounds and jumped around, making Seungkwan cackle loudly as he basked in the attention. He was a rather uptight guy, but out on the field, he was simply amazing although he’s never managed to hit a home run until now.

“Oh, this is amazing,” Wendy mused, her eyes sparkling as she clapped away, showing the boys thumbs-up as they turned our way to bow, pushing Seungkwan to the front as he grinned widely, “They’ll ace the next game, Y/N, I can feel it deep in my bones.”

I chuckled but said nothing as I knew this meant a lot to Wendy, and only grabbed her arm to make her sit down when the coach threw her an irritated look. They couldn’t kick us out because we weren’t doing anything illegal or interrupting their training, but I knew the coach wasn’t too fond of two girls always lingering around the bleachers to distract his boys. Not that it was our attention, but I have caught them busy ogling us instead of doing their warm-ups. Wendy was buzzing as she sat down, chewing her bottom lip before she started chewing her nails, making me grip her wrist to stop her as I knew she did it subconsciously. She gave me a grateful smile and I turned back to my play as the boys had calmed down too, going back to their friendly game.

“Do you want to stay for longer?” I asked as I flipped to the next page, eyebrows furrowing as it was Mr. Darcy’s monologue that wasn’t in the original work, “I think I could make use of a coffee right now.”

“Can’t we stay for another fifteen minutes at least?” Wendy asked with a pout, her sparkly eyes widening as I gave her an unimpressed look, “Yunho is up for pitching right now and then it’s Baekhyun again, I promise we can leave once he’s done.”

I sighed but knew I wouldn’t drag my best friend away before she got to watch Baekhyun pitch again, so I just nodded and threw a quick glance at the field. Indeed, player number 04 was up for pitching, Jeong Yunho. His name didn’t leave a distaste in my mouth as I, thankfully, had never had to interact with him, but it was inevitable to know who he was with how huge his reputation had gotten over the last year. We started out at university at the same time, he’s been a baseball player since he was just a child, and he was rising in the ranks rather quickly. He was amazing, even as someone who still didn’t understand how baseball worked, I knew he was good at what he did and he was often praised for his skills. He was the best pitcher the team had—the university has had for ages, at least based on the coach’s words—and he carried himself like a successful athlete would, always smiling brightly with his warm eyes twinkling with mischief-ridden in them.

Sure, Jeong Yunho had a warm and perceiving aura, friendly and even kind, but even those couldn’t stop the rumours spreading of him being a heartthrob. Better said, he was a womanizer. He appeared to be this soft and puppy type of guy, sweeping girls off their feet with his acts of service and soft-spoken nature, but just as quickly as he wrapped them around his fingers, he dropped them without his ‘kind’ smile breaking from his lips, eyes even teary when he told them that he just wasn’t right for them, that they deserved someone better. Behind his innocent mask lay a man who enjoyed playing with others and using them to his liking with a deceiving smile and excuses that didn’t make sense upon another thought. But many girls didn’t care about the rumours, they thought they were simply fake because certainly the sweet and kind Jeong Yunho couldn’t be like that, not with them at least. And that is exactly how they go their hearts broken by the most sought out playboy of our university, from the baseball team at least. The soccer team was even worse, you’d never hear the end of how cool and mysterious Park Seonghwa was. Personally, I preferred my peace of mind and stayed away from both.

I heard the bat collide against the ball with a loud bang, and I could tell it was a strong hit as the boys ‘oohed’, but Wendy just gasped, stiffening in her seat. I paid it no mind as she reacted to every single thing the players did, living in the moment and giving her all to the game—even if just friendly. But some exclaimed alarmed and tried to warn us—or me—of something, but I was too busy ignoring them as my irritation levels were rising. I just really wanted a cup of coffee and silence to be able to finish reading the play before my class later today.

“Y/N!” Wendy’s shrill exclamation made my head snap up, taking in her wide eyes as she gesticulated, only confusing me more. Turning my head to the right, to see what got the boys reacting like that as well, my own eyes widened into saucers when I realized a white small ball was hurling at my face rather quickly. I knew I could dodge it, it wasn’t too late yet, but I felt blindsided as I stared at it, accepting the fact that it would either break my nose or give me a black eye. But someone was moving on the field, had been for a few seconds now, running full speed towards me and the ball. And before it could collide against my face and ruin it, a black glove was in my face, so close that if I puckered my lips, it would’ve touched the fabric. My heart was beating fast and I stared up at the person who caught the ball with wide eyes, exhaling loudly as Wendy yelped and shot up from her seat again.

For a second, it was completely silent, even the coach stood staring at us with an open mouth, whistle threatening to fall from it, but the boys on the field suddenly started howling once again, yelling and calling out my ‘saviour’s’ name. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed as his cheeks were rosy from the bite of frost of the morning air, but also from having pitched for the last few minutes. I could feel my own cheeks tinge red from the adrenaline and also from the way the guy’s warm chocolate eyes seemed to melt into mine. Yunho looked pleased that he managed to catch the ball, and his fingers closed around it as he lowered his hand and leaned down a little. My back was rigid as I couldn’t help but blink at him wordlessly, gripping the play tightly in my hands.

“Are you okay?” His eyebrows furrowed more, and his face was ridden with worry as he searched for eye contact. I gulped and averted my eyes, exhaling shakily.

“Yes,” I took a tentative glance at Yunho and cleared my throat, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry.” My eyebrows furrowed as he looked apologetic, biting his bottom lip which was cherry red and plump, “I positioned my arm wrong and I was distracted when I pitched, I almost hurt you.”

“Oh, uhm,” I stared at him for a few seconds as I felt Wendy sit back down and subtly nudge my arm, “It’s fine, you managed to catch it so—good job?”

Yunho chuckled, and I was taken aback by how high-pitched it sounded and how warm his tone was, cheeks puffy and rosy, and definitely giving him this sweet and innocent aura, “Glad to be your saviour despite putting you in harm's way myself.”

I hummed as I found myself lost for words, all the acting classes I had taken flying out the window. There was something about his gaze that made me feel small, made me forget how to articulate my words, “Best if it doesn’t happen again, right?”

Yunho chuckled and I felt embarrassed, but he didn’t look like he meant bad, he seemed simply amused. I was sure he could tell I was flustered and that only made me feel more embarrassed, “Right, I’ll try to keep my eyes off you next time then, focus more on pitching.”

Wendy gasped next to me as I just stared at Yunho dumbfounded, trying not to let my confusion show at the sudden change of events. Well, I was under the impression nobody paid me any mind as I never really paid them any mind, I was here for Wendy and it was pretty obvious.

“Are you reading a play by any chance?” Yunho asked as he looked down at my lap, and I cleared my throat, feeling hesitant as I nodded my head.

“Yeah, Pride and—”

“Pride and Prejudice,” He smiled sweetly, his eyes hidden by his baseball cap, “my favourite.”

I knew Wendy wanted to scream and jump up and down, but she was doing a good job of remaining put and silent. For some reason, Yunho didn’t pass me as the person who would pick up a book, let alone a play, to read, so I just gave him a tight smile and an unimpressed look. I had heard the rumours, and I was sure they were true, I didn’t want to fall for his schemes.

“Right.” My tone was a bit sharp and I knew it took him off guard because his eyebrows twitched, “Aren’t you supposed to be pitching?”

And as if the coach had heard my words, he blew his whistle loudly and shouted, “Jeong, get back on the field!”

Yunho bit his lower lip and grabbed his cap as he nodded his head, winking at me before he was jogging back onto the field, making me grimace. Wendy’s eyebrows were raised and she had a suggestive smile on her face, but I just sighed and shook my head, deciding that I wanted to have coffee now, “We both know he sleeps with every girl and then dumps them right after, so before you get even started, I’m not interested in him at all.”

“But he’s so handsome and tall.” Wendy sighed dreamily and I chuckled, standing up.

“There are plenty of tall and handsome guys at our university, I’ll find myself a decent one, thank you very much.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get my coffee.”

“But Baekhyun hadn’t pitched yet.”

I chuckled as Wendy whined, rooted to her place as I got off the bench.

“Meet me at the coffee shop then, I have class in an hour so don’t stay for long.”

“I love you! Save me a seat by the window!”

I chuckled and nodded, waving Wendy off as she focused on the game again, eyes wide and attentive. I kept to the side of the field so that I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way and walked quickly so that I could be out of the arena swiftly, without angering the coach. Wonwoo, who was the left fielder, threw me a quick smile and I waved at him as I passed by, feeling eyes on the back of my head. I didn’t turn around to check who it was as the coach had spotted me and narrowed his eyes at me. I bowed my head and then slipped out of the arena, less stressed and happier now that I was about to get my caffeine fill of the day.

             The rest of my day had gone well, and I was more than excited to attend my last class of the day, drama class. We’d hold the rest of our courses at the small theatre of the University as Mrs. Jeong wanted us to focus on the upcoming play only, assignments already handed out as our final grade now depended on finishing it on time and also delivering our best in the play, the two grades turning into our final score. I happily skipped down the stairs of the theatre and greeted a few of my colleagues as I settled not too far from the front rows, somewhere in the middle of the row. I liked sitting by myself so that nobody could distract me while Mrs. Jeong gave us advice and coached us on how to deliver the lines, when to put emotion in it and just how much of it. I placed my coat on the chair on my right and left my backpack on the floor as I leaned down to unzip it and grab the play, my yellow notebook, a black pen and a green marker. I heard the door of the theatre close and open loudly, then running down the stairs and shuffling as I straightened up, trying to organize my things in my lap as I waited for Mrs. Jeong to show up.

To my surprise, there was movement on my left and I looked over, curious of who decided to sit right next to me when there were numerous empty seats in the theatre, only to find Jeong Yunho staring back at me with a surprised expression similar to mine on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hey I know you, hi!”

Yunho and I spoke at the same time as I heard the girls sitting a few rows in the back behind us whisper and giggle to each other. Yunho flushed as he pushed his leather jacket off his wide shoulders and settled quietly in the seat next to mine. I continued staring at him with confusion as his legs spread out wide, his head turning to face me.

“You’re the girl from this morning,” Yunho said as he disregarded my question, “I actually see you around the field often, do you like baseball?”

“No.” I deadpanned and Yunho’s enthusiasm died out at once, smiling unsure, “My friend loves baseball so I tag along with her sometimes.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” Yunho’s smile became more confident as his eyes took in my features, making me feel a bit uncomfortable, “And how are you?”

“I’m—fine.” I still didn’t understand what he was doing here, but I wasn’t about to be rude to him, “And you?”

Yunho’s smile widened into a grin, and he threw a short glance behind us when the girls started giggling louder, “Rather good knowing you’re here too. Why are you here?”

I tried to refrain from sighing at his not-so-subtle flirting and occupied my hands as I grabbed my marker and fiddled with it, “I’m a drama major, Yunho.”

Yunho’s eyes widened for a small fraction, cheeks flushing, “Oh, that sounds lovely, I—sorry, I’m just taken aback that you know my name.”

I didn’t mean to glare at him, but he was bad at playing the abashed and shy boy persona, perhaps a few acting courses wouldn’t do him bad, “You’re on the baseball team and I have gone to almost every game of yours, so I think it’s only natural I know everyone’s name on the team, no?” I didn’t let him answer me as I gave him a scrutinizing look, “Besides, you’re quite famous for breaking the hearts of the girls you go out with, right?”

Now, I could tell he was actually flustered as he averted his eyes, biting his bottom lip as the flush from his cheeks spread to his ears too. Yunho’s dark hair was messy and wavy, and he wore his glasses now. The black turtleneck made him look comfy and safe, his dark jeans complementing his long legs nicely.

“Ah, those are just rumours, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” He rubbed his nape and looked back at me, “I’m sorry, I never caught your name.”

I sighed and thought about whether I should tell him, but it was only right since I knew his name and didn’t want to look like a prick, “It’s Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He grinned widely and extended his hand to shake, “I’m Yunho, but you know that already.”

I hummed and took his hand, a little surprised by how long his fingers were and how much bigger his palm was, it made me blush as I carefully pulled my hand out of his, busying myself with my marker, “So, what are you doing here? It’s a bit weird seeing a sports major here, you know.”

Yunho groaned and I glanced at him to see him rubbing his forehead, “Don’t even tell me about it, it’s completely against my will, if I’m being honest. Not that I hate the theatre or anything, but I’d be much rather doing something else.”

“Well, you can just get up and walk out before the professor comes, you know,” I suggested, nodding my head towards the exit, but Yunho had a solemn look on his face. He let his hands fall in his lap as he intertwined his fingers.

“Actually, I can’t.” He pouted, and I tried not to think of him as a manchild, it wasn’t very appealing, “You see, I might have done something that was against the rules, and this is basically my punishment if I don’t want to lose my scholarship, or worse, get kicked out. I mean, my career would be ruined before I even had the chance to start it, you know?”

I nodded, pretty much on board with what he was saying, “Yeah, that makes sense. Well, it sucks but I still don’t understand why drama class out of all classes they could’ve punished you with.”

“Ugh, right?! Don’t even get me started on it,” Yunho rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses as he licked his lips, turning his body to face mine, “Like, the principal is totally crazy for placing me in this class! I don’t know why she thought a little play-pretending would fix my attitude—her words, not mine—but it certainly won’t. Like, whatever I did wasn’t even that serious, it’s the fact that the stupid professor can’t take a joke, I didn’t even sleep with his daughter!”

So, this is who the real Jeong Yunho was, unfiltered, and apparently, not as perfect and charming as everyone thought him to be. I chuckled, amused that he’d have to suffer through our drama classes because I knew the outsiders always viewed us as crazy whenever they stumbled through the doors of the theatre, “And how long until your punishment is over?”

“This whole semester, can you believe it?” Yunho sounded annoyed, but his face remained void of any annoyance as he slumped in his chair, looking defeated, “I swear to God, the principal was high on some shit when she threatened to throw me out if I didn’t heed her orders. It’s like—I know she’s my mother but we’re at school, for fuck’s sake! Like—this is university, she can’t punish me like I’m some sort of five-year-old, no?!”

I covered my mouth to try and hide my amusement at his outburst, which got other students chuckling. I meant to answer him, but a rather loud scoff coming from the first row caught everyone’s attention as suddenly they stood, whirling around, hands on their hips. My amusement died down as my eyes widened, staring at Mrs. Jeong in surprise, I didn’t know she was there, I thought she was running late.

“Oh, really, young man?” Her sharp eyes narrowed, and I watched from the corner of my eyes as Yunho’s own widened, mouth falling open, “You think you’re here because I believed whatever that professor accused you of? No, you’re here because you promised me you’d stop fooling around, yet here we are!”

“Mom?” Yunho seemed pale as Mrs. Jeong glared him down, he turned to me with a desperate look on his face, “What’s she doing here?!”

He whisper-shouted as Mrs. Jeong scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. I felt a bit awkward and put on the spot as I nodded in acknowledgement at her, then faced her son, “Mrs. Jeong is the head of our department.”

Yunho’s eyes widened comically and I chuckled as I bit my lower lip, “Uhm, did you not know that your mother is the head of the drama club and department?”

“No!” Yunho whisper-shouted and eyed his mother, who had started to grin in contentment. I could see the resemblance in the two as I looked between the mother and son, their smiles were the same and their cheeks were puffy and almost always rosy. Mrs. Jeong was a lovely and compassionate woman, it sometimes made me wonder why Yunho had such little respect for women when his mother must’ve raised him right.

“If you’re done parading yourself, son, I’d like to start my class, thank you very much.” Mrs. Jeong raised her eyebrows and Yunho grumbled something under his breath as he slipped lower in his chair.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jeong.” He avoided eye contact with his mother and Mrs. Jeong smiled in victory, eyes taking in the place as she counted how many there were of us. I smiled at her when her eyes fell on me and she returned it, clapping her hands once she was done.

“Good, I see more of you joined us—I didn’t count my son in—I hope you’re all ready to rehearse for the play before the auditions, and I’m more than eager to help you all out. Today, I’d like to highlight some of the culminant points of the play and discuss the acting techniques they should be delivered with.” Mrs. Jeong intertwined her hands behind her back and nodded before she went to grab her own copy of the play. Yunho looked helpless as he glanced around the room, sighing long as he peered down at my lap over my shoulder.

“Uh, can you share yours with me?” He grumbled, not so smiley anymore, “I didn’t know what we’d be doing today, I’ll bring my play for the next class.”

“Just this once,” I said with a pointed look and put my copy of the play between us, “I don’t like to share and I like to sit alone, just so you know in the future.”

“All alone?” Yunho asked curiously, “Don’t you like sharing?”

“I like my peace of mind and quiet.” I answered, raising my eyebrows at him, “And I really like to be left alone, Yunho, so don’t try to distract me.”

“Okay,” He whispered as he flipped through the pages, making me give him a small glare, “I’ll be silent, but don’t expect me to survive this whole semester if you ignore me the whole time.”

“Go make friends, I’m sure the girls behind us are more than eager to sit with you,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes, and Yunho grinned as he leaned slightly closer.

“Is that a hint of jealousy—”

“Mr. Jeong,” Mrs. Jeong snapped and we both looked at her alarmed, she was frowning at her son, “Leave Miss Lee alone, yes? Or I’ll make sure to fail you in this class—”

“But mom!” Yunho whined, sitting up straight as he leaned forward, “You can’t do that, I’m not even registered for this class!”

“Really?” Mrs. Jeong chuckled, “Aren’t you?”

“You did not.”

“Oh, trust me, I did.”

Yunho’s mouth fell open in shock, and I had to turn my head to hide my silent laugh as Yunho turned into a whining manchild once again, “You will behave in my class, young man, and you’ll let Miss Lee be, understood?”

“Understood, Mrs. Jeong.” Yunho grumbled under his breath and looked down, a grimace on his face as he muttered something to himself, “I can’t even skip class now, for fuck’s sake.”

A laugh slipped through as I gave Yunho another amused smile and then grabbed my marker, way too amused by how things were turning out to be. Yunho didn’t look too amused but Mrs. Jeong did, and she spoke up with a smile on her face, asking us to flip to the thirteenth page of our play.

I could only hope Jeong Yunho, the Casanova, wouldn’t ruin one of my favourite classes for me.

❱❱ Next act

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[celuere]

Hii Alba! I've been reading your works, and they're all amazing! ❤️

Can I request an Arlecchino x Reader who is Pierro's adopted daughter? Maybe when Arlecchino became a harbinger and reader (they're the same age ofc) was her first (and maybe her only) friend there? And they grew up to become closer and closer? You can decide for the rest hihihi thank you! 🥰

Why Anon ofc, I‘m at your beck and call!!! I actually think that’s such a neat concept of getting to know her, like meeting Arle freshly after crucabenas assassination she is of course not the most extroverted person and it takes some time for her to start to open up to you AAAAAA I‘M SO GONNA GET TO WRITING THIS AND TY FOR YOUR KIND WORDS🫶

The Hearth is now extinguished.

Pairing: Arlecchino x fem!Reader

Context: As Pierro’s adoptive daughter you‘ve known the Knave for quite a few years now and you grew… close to her to say the least… always finding excuses to accompany your father to every possible Harbinger Meeting, to maybe even share the same mission locations together… and a bed on occasions. But little did you know, you sadly weren’t as sneaky as your father taught you to be.

Content: mutual pining, unspoken feelings, doomed yuri (my fav kind), suggestive (mentions of arle and reader being intimate, other than that sfwangst, pre-Fontaine arc, reader has a vision, ANGST.

I really hope I hit the nail on the head with the plot, let me know if you like it anon!<333

A/N: […] stands vor Your name! I‘m not a big fan of using Y/N as it lowkey ruins the sentence for me😭 I‘ve also been working on the second part of the Teased story, expect it to be a long one!

You remember the day just as clear as todays morning sky at which you’ve been staring up at for the past minutes. A soft breeze hit your face, brushing the strands of hair out of your face. You were a little nervous to say the least. You were waiting for somebody. Waiting for her so you can finally confess.

Waiting for her as your mind once again went back to the day you first met…

Blizzards have been raging in Snezhnaya lately as you stood next to the Jester, hands tucked tightly into the warmth of your coat. As Pierro‘s daughter, adoptive daughter to be more specific, you had certain duties. One of them was accompanying your father to appoint the next Fatui Harbinger.

The news about Crucabenas sudden death by the hands of one of her own children reached the Fatui HQ in the capital of the City of eternal winter a good four days ago. A 17 year old girl. Killing a Fatui Harbinger. Seventeen. The same age as you. To be honest you were by no means defenseless, being adopted by the first Fatui Harbinger himself came with a few perks, one of them being trained to perfection in almost every weapon category. It wasn’t uncommon either for your father to send you of to an assassination all by yourself at the ripe of age of 14 and being a Cryo Visionholder ever since your tenth birthday… well let’s just say that most high ranking officials weren’t a match for you. But thinking about even scratching La Signora, who was standing and waiting behind you… or just as much as breathe in the wrong direction of Capitano on your left… it wouldn’t came to you in your wildest dreams

So who exactly was that girl?

You were interrupted in your thoughts as the big wooden doors opened. Revealing a rather… small girl… even with the clacking sounds of heels against the polished marble floors, you could tell that she was around half a head smaller than you.

But her height wasn’t what caught your attention. Nor was it her white hair that‘s illuminated by the moon light shining down on her through the windows of the dome above her head.

Red.

It was the deep crimson x‘s adorning her pitch black eyes that you caught yourself staring at, the words coming out of your father‘s mouth completely drowned out as she strode up to the altar. Her face expressionless, almost cold in fact. Your breath got caught in your throat as she took notice of your staring, a tint of pink starting to form on your cheeks, you shifted slightly behind your father.

She was beautiful… not beautiful like Rosalyn… another kind…

And for the rest of the entirety of the meeting you couldn’t help but study her. Study the pretty earrings grazing her earlobes. How she didn’t even move a single inch once she came to a stop in front of you and Pierro. The soft eyebags underneath her eyes, probably the result of her hard training. But to your disappointment she didn’t even as much as looked into your direction ever since you made eye contact at the very beginning.

Arlecchino. That was the new name bestowed upon her. She inherited the title as Knave along with the House of the Hearth. Quite a lot for a seventeen year old girl, who just wanted to kill the monster that was called „Mother“ at the orphanage. Of course you knew Crucabena. And you knew Clervie, her late daughter. You knew she was a terrible person, someone who didn’t deserve the title „Mother“, how she treated her daughter and the other kids under her care, someone who hopefully is rotting in the depths of hell at this very moment.So you couldn’t help but feel anything else other than utmost sympathy for the girl in front of you.

You wanted… no. You had to befriend her. No questions asked.

So you secretly beamed in excitement when Pierro asked you to show her around Zapolyarny Palace and explain how things are operating from here on now. Stepping forward you revealed your hand from beneath the warmth of your coat and waited for her to take it.

„[…]. It‘s a pleasure to finally meet you.“, you hesitated before a soft smile tucked at the corner of your lips as you waited for her to shake your hand. And to be fair, it took her a few moments. She stared down at your hand for a while, as if she was debating something in her head. Then you finally noticed the movement underneath her coat before she revealed her own hand. And from there on you were mesmerized by her.

Pitch black hands along with dark-grey lines tracing the back of her hand before disappearing beneath her sleeves.

„It is rude to stare.“, to your surprise, her voice was deeper than expected.

„I…“, you quickly cleared your throat before taking her hand into yours, „of course, my sincere apologies…“. Goodness, her hand was soft. And she was even more prettier from this up close.

You heard Signora trying to hide a laugh behind her hand, along with Capitano clearing his throat, probably doing the same.

Insufferable old bags.

But little did you know, this handshake marked the start of an inseparable bond between the two of you. Of course, talking to Arlecchino at the beginning was… dreadful to put it mildly. Short answers. Never laughing. Always monotone in her voice. But you were never a girl who gave up so easily, you were quite the opposite. So you stayed strong, using every excuse under the sun to participate in ever meeting alongside your father, no matter how long it would take as long as you got to sit at the same table as her. Fortunately your efforts weren’t in vain because around four months after Arlecchino got appointed as Harbinger, she started to slowly get more comfortable around you. It started with small things. And I mean SMALL things, such as keeping the seat next to her free for you to sit down, accompanying you to take a walk through the capital city whenever she had a spare hour in her schedule, always staying by your side whenever a bigger event rolled around. She still didn’t talk much but you were satisfied with the progress nonetheless.

And after even more months, you could actually have a conversation with her. Turned out she hates the taste too flavorful foods, preferring more plain meals such as… raw meat on a toast along with some ketchup. It gagged you a little the first time she ordered it at a small restaurant she seemed to frequent, but you kept your mouth shut. She‘s just started to open up to you, making a remark in her taste in foods would only set you back in the progress you‘ve already made with her. You even accepted when she offered you a bite. And it tasted… strange. Not awful but also not exceptionally good either.

„You don’t like it?“, she brought up the the toast to her mouth before taking another bite herself as she studied the expressions on your face.

„It‘s… unique… I still prefer salted bacon on a toast instead…“, you washed down the weird taste with a few gulps of your water. As you did so, Arlecchino bent over the table to you, hand reaching out to your face. Your heart set out multiple beats as the butterflies in your stomach flared up.

What does she think she is doing?!

„Arle what-”, her hand gently touched your hair as she interrupted you while taking her hand back, „There was a spider in your hair.“. The small eight-legged animal crawling over her fingers as something akin to fascination washes over the Harbinger‘s face. This is your first time ever seeing something other than an indifferent facial expression on her.

„Oh…“, you leaned in closer to take a look at it, „are you fond of spiders…? You don’t seem scared to me like most people are…“, you could barely make the black spider out on her cursed hands.

„I had a pet spider when I was six years old. They’re easy to take care of. I like them.“, she set the small thing down on the windowsill next to your table. That statement somehow fit her so well. You couldn’t put your finger on why that was the case, but you were always happy to find out more about her.

By the time her 19th birthday rolled around you already taught her how to to braid the hair she‘s been growing out ever since her appointment as Knave. Your fingers delicately combing through her silky strand as you were sat behind her in front of a mirror. You were 18 at that time.

„It’s been getting in my way a lot lately. But I don’t want to cut it off again. I… like it more this way.“, her own crimson eyes skimming over a report from one of her subordinates as she enjoyed -yes. enjoyed.- your fingers running through her hair. Oddly enough it seemed to calm her down, causing her to lean more into your hands. Of course the sudden movement didn’t go unnoticed by you, but you didn’t comment on it. Knowing her, she would brush it off anyways.

„Good thing that you have me…“, you smiled at her through the mirror before you binded her together and set back. „There. All done. Do you like you it?“, you stood up from the floor to get something from your accessory box.

As you searched for a certain hair clip, Arlecchino looked at herself in the mirror, moving her head to the side to have a look at your handwork. „It‘s… simple. I think it suits me well. Thank you, […].“, her eyes landed on you as you walked back to her, a unique accessory in your hand.

„I‘ve had this clip ever since I was a small girl…“, you sat down next to her, revealing the metal thingy in your hand. At the first look it didn’t even seem like a hair clip. The curled up wings on each side looked more like something that belonged into a museum. „Let me put it in your hair really quick…“, you moved back behind her and took the tail back into your hand.

„You… really don’t have to. I‘m fine with this, I wouldn’t want you to give up something as beautiful as this hair clip for me.“, …what was that feeling stirring up inside her stomach…? It wasn’t quite new to her. She often feels like this whenever she‘s around you but she couldn’t exactly pinpoint it either. To be honest, she feels a lot of things whenever she is with you. Not that she would ever admit that of course. It wasn’t like this with Clervie, it was more… romantic…? Either way it confused her.

„Nonsense. I‘ve never worn this one in my entire life. It will only continue to collect dust here…“, you fixed the clip on her ponytail. „And it suits you way better than me anyways.“, you grabbed a smaller mirror from your bed behind you and held it up so Arlecchino could have a better look at her ponytail in the bigger mirror in front of you. „Much better, isn’t it?“

And from this day on, she wore that specific hair clip you’ve given her. At all times. Everyday. You actually never saw her with anything else keeping her hair together. It was always those metal wings adorning her white-red hair.

Time flew by faster than would’ve liked but over the months, years you grew… closer? That‘s a mild way to put it. There was something unique between the two of you. The way you‘d look at each other. The way Arlecchino would always be the first one to ask you for a dance at a formal event, one hand gently holding onto your waist, the other one cupping your hand as she led the both of your over the dance floor as the orchestra switched to a more… slower song.

The funny thing is… remember how she used to be half a head smaller than you about three years ago? About that… growth spurt seemed to hit her a bit late as you now had to lean your head back into your neck to maintain eye contact with her.

„Isn‘t your neck slowly starting to get stiff…?“, she bit her lower lip, the x‘s in her eyes shimmering from the chandelier light shining down at you two. She wore a tailored black-red suit that night, and you couldn’t help yourself but look her up and down multiple time for the duration of the evening.

„Shut it… your not that much taller than me.“, that was a blatant lie. She could easily rest your chin on top of your head. You both knew that. „My, my… feisty today, aren’t we?“, she let you spin around before pulling you closer to her chest again. In her eyes you were the most beautiful person to ever exist right now. The ballgown complimenting your body perfectly, your hair put up nicely, probably by yourself, which suited your face so well, it actually was hard for her to believe that someone could be so… so incredibly beautiful as you were…

It’s not like she would ever openly admit that.

Of course you noticed her shameless staring on that very same evening. How her eyes landed on your lips multiple times, often not adverting her gaze for a longer period of time. How she licked over her own whenever she took in your dress. You knew she wanted so say something. But you didn’t pressure her, it‘s Arlecchino after all.

You also remember how she pressed you up against the door of your sleeping chambers later that night. Left hand slipping underneath your dress as the other one undid your hair. Tongues intertwined while the hand that’s been sneaking up underneath your skirt grabbed onto your ass like you were hers to take. Hers to touch. Hers to kiss. She didn’t even let you break up your kiss when your mixed saliva was dripping out of the corner of your lips. She kissed you like it‘s all she ever yearned for. As if your lips might be the cure to the curse flowing through the blood in her veins.

But even after that night, neither of you dared to speak up on the feelings you had for each other. You just continued sharing a bed from time to time. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear as she made whine her name out in ecstasy. Her kisses tasting after something forbidden. Something addictive, it was getting unbearable for you to keep your mind at bay whenever she was near you in public. How your father didn’t notice it, you had no idea. But it was better this way.

The problem wasn’t Arlecchino‘s gender but rather her occupation. A Harbinger was strictly off of the table for you. That rule applied to every member of the Fatui. You didn’t even want to imagine how he would react.

But you weren’t surprised as Pierro was now standing before you. Not the woman, you‘ve been waiting for. His glare stirred up your anxiety, causing you to start fidgeting with your fingers.

„I… I can ex-", you immediately shut your mouth as your father raised his hand to silence you.

„That‘s enough. I thought I taught you better than this. The Knave? You are smarter than this, […]. I raised you to be smarter than this. I have observed the situation long enough to tell that you two have gotten emotionally attached to each other. Especially you.“, he put his hands behind back, shaking his head.

Silence. The wind now suddenly gone. It was quiet. Too quiet, in fact. Something was about to happen and you hated this knowledge. Hated how it made your stomach sink. Hated how it made your legs heavy.

„Arlecchino will be transferred back to her homeland, Fontaine, to get a hold of the Hydro Gnosis. She is probably already on her way there. For the complete duration of her stay, you are strictly prohibited to even set foot at Fontaine‘s Borders. I’ve already put you on the blacklist for operations regarding the Nation of Justice. I think, I don’t have to explain to you that letters are off the table, too?“, a punch to your stomach would’ve hurt less than this. Hollow. That would explain best whatever you felt at this very moment. You didn’t even had the chance to tell her your feelings. That you never want to be apart from her again. That you want to grow old with her, no matter what.

„Too shocked to answer, I see…“, he put his hand onto your back. Guiding you back to the city, ignoring the tears starting to taint your pretty face. You hated him in that very moment. Hated Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated. Hated.

Hated.

„While we are at it, the son of one of Pantalone’s most successful business partners recently asked me about you. A nice man, indeed. Intelligent, promis-”

„No.“, you halted in your tracks. It took every fiber in your body to not smash something in his face. You were seething with anger. And he only added more fuel to it on purpose.

„Hm… too bad, daughter. Let me know once you changed your mind.“.

As you trotted back to HQ you were a shell of yourself. The letter you prepared for her in advance along with a ring was burning a hole through your pocket.

——————————————————

Some angst for the soul. I‘m sorry I just saw the opportunity right in front of me and took it guys, please don’t bother sending in your therapy bills🙏🏼 anon I hope you liked this one and let me know your thoughts on this!

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna was afraid to face her new friends after the night out at the bar. Admitting she was attracted to Bob was easier to do than explain why she couldn't have him. When she finally sends him some book recommendations, she finds his taste in books familiar in an all too intimate way. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

Anna spent the rest of her weekend working on lesson plans and looking at Bob's number saved in her phone. She had compiled a mental list of titles she thought he would like, and she'd even pulled a few dog-eared books from her own collection and stacked them up on her narrow counter. She would absolutely love to have Bob borrow them from her, but she'd completely messed everything up.

Why, when confronted with a decent man, did she shut everything down and destroy all hope? Because of Kevin. That's why. She knew this crush on Bob was a bad idea. Nothing good could come of it, but she still caught herself looking at his contact information on Sunday evening with longing in her heart.

She made herself a sad sandwich for dinner and packed herself a second sad sandwich for lunch the next day and then she settled in with her computer. The idea of taking her sad sandwich to the quad and eating with her friends was making her anxious. What if they didn't even want her around now that she'd made a complete fool of herself in front of their friend? What if they looked up at her as she approached them sitting on the bench with their perfect, beautiful lunches and scowled with their perfect, beautiful faces? 

"Oh no," she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand. She really liked them, but they probably hated her now. And she really liked Bob, but he probably went home with that better looking woman who was at the Navy bar and hadn't thought about Anna one time since. 

She forced her attention to her computer screen which was prompting her for a password. She entered Kev1n1s@t00L and watched as the website she'd had open on her browser came to life. She sighed as she scrolled through her saved favorites on PoetsAmongUs. It was kind of pitiful that she knew what she was going to end up reading before she could actually admit it to herself. 

Your whispers call out in the darkest shadows, My heart answers like a flame, Igniting this shared space with every breath I take, Giving you a love that will never find the end. It binds me to you, pulsing through my veins, Emotions like I've never known before. I've doubted that I could reach this place, But I feel endlessly sure here now.

Anna whined from her bed in her sad little apartment as she looked at the pen name of her favorite poet before clicking on it. He either never finished filling out his profile or he was being purposely vague. Male, 30s, United States. 

"Sky Writing. The only man I would trust with my heart ever again." She read the poem once more. That was her favorite passage, but she knew everything he posted by heart and got excited every time something new from him popped up every few months. 

It was late enough that she could probably just go to sleep without acknowledging that she hadn't texted Bob and probably never would. She couldn't set foot back in that bar ever again. Maybe that other place that Jessica loved so much would be somewhere she could check out next time she had nothing better to do. Chippy's or something? She started to doze off.

When her alarm started blaring, it was almost like she had slept too well. She'd dreamed about a faceless man with beautiful hands reading poetry to her while he ran his fingers slowly up and down her bare thigh. She couldn't shake the delicious feeling even as her alarm got louder. When she managed to turn it off, she lay there wishing she had time to go on the poetry website and masturbate before work. 

"Stop it," she whispered as she got up and started getting herself ready for the day. 

At least she got to teach English 522 this afternoon. Feminist Literature was becoming one of her favorite classes, as evidenced by her well worn copy of Carmilla by Sheridan Le Fanu which was in her bag. When she stood in her kitchen and ate a peanut butter granola bar and drank some coffee, she looked at the books she had pulled out as options for Bob, but she shook her head and left for the day without dwelling on how disappointing her life truly was.

Relying solely on public transportation meant leaving a lot earlier than you wanted to, but Anna still barely made it to her office in time to grab her notebook and teach her first lecture of the week. Half of the students still looked like they were asleep while the other half were looking at her like she was a literary messiah. It was almost comical, and when lunchtime rolled around, she was in a pretty great mood. Until she realized she was still on the fence about going to the quad. 

"Just do a vibe check," she muttered as she grabbed her lunch from her office. "If they look pissed off, you can come right back here and never talk to anyone else again for the rest of your life." She could subside on sandwiches and online poetry and only speak when she was giving lectures. That sounded simultaneously amazing and also terrifying.

The college campus was bustling today. There were some guys skateboarding through the quad, and she recognized a few other faculty members from the English department who waved to her. But that didn't stop her palms from sweating and her heart from thudding in a sickening rhythm that Edgar Alan Poe would think was beautiful. When she spotted the two women on the bench in front of the weird tree, Anna was shocked to see them waving to her with smiles on their faces. 

"Anna!" called Jessica. "You'll never believe it! The vending machine just gave me my bottle of Pepsi and a bonus bottle of ginger ale! Like it knew I was about to see you!"

"Chaos Theory at its finest," said the other woman before she bit into her carrot stick and hummus. 

"It's really more of the Butterfly Effect," Jessica replied. Anna had no idea what they were talking about, but they scooted away from each other on the bench to make room, so she decided to stay.

Anna swallowed hard as she sat and opened her pack of peanuts. "How was the rest of your weekend?" she asked the two of them, and soon her nerves calmed down. 

"Excellent. Bradley and I took a tour of the library yesterday."

"Pretty good. I helped Jake make waffles for breakfast. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. What did you do with the rest of your weekend? After the Hard Deck?"

Anna accepted the bottle of ginger ale that Jessica handed to her as she said, "Um, well I did my lesson plans for the next few weeks. And I started writing my midterm exams. Nothing exciting."

She was met with a bit of awkward silence, and she could feel the two women sharing a look behind her head. "Did you happen to text Bob?" Advanced Calculus asked cautiously, and Anna knew this was the part where it was all over. The dramatic climax, except she was actually the villain in this story.

"No, actually. I think that ship has sailed," she replied softly. 

"Why?" Jessica asked, not unkindly. "When we figured out that you and he already met at the bookstore in North Park, we were ecstatic. He's the mystery guy you were losing your mind over, Anna! The handsome one with glasses who smells so good!"

"He really does smell good," Advanced Calculus muttered as she dipped another carrot into the hummus which was probably unfairly homemade. "Are you no longer attracted to him? Was it his nerdy tee shirt? Or were all the guys so obnoxious you couldn't wait to leave?"

Anna held onto the cold bottle of ginger ale a little tighter as she said, "It's not that at all. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn't be attracted to Bob? And I thought his shirt was kind of charming. And the rest of the guys were welcoming in a slightly intense way."

Now Jessica was turned to face her, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Bob thinks you ran away from him twice now because he's unappealing and boring."

Anna jolted and the pack of peanuts went flying to the ground, nuts rolling in every direction. "He does?" she asked, palms beginning to sweat again.

"Yeah. Big time. But he's quite attracted to you. Apparently the red hair is a thing."

"Oh my god," Anna moaned in embarrassment. Bob liked her red hair? "Oh no. No. No. He's just.... he's so.... and he's also.... I can't even." She took a deep breath as she kicked at the lost peanuts. "Bob is so handsome. It's hard to look into his eyes for too long, because you start to feel like you're going to break out into song. And I don't think I've ever been around a man who smells quite that nice. And he's funny and just a touch nerdy, but that's a good thing." 

There was another beat of silence before Advanced Calculus said, "I'm not really understanding what the problem is."

Anna shook her head and unwrapped her sandwich to keep her hands busy. "Listen, none of my weirdness is because of him. It's all because of me. I can't have a crush on him. I can't be interested in him. I can't be interested in any men whatsoever."

Jessica nudged her shoulder and said, "Maybe you could just text him? Maybe making another new friend wouldn't be so bad?"

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

"Well if you can't find a girlfriend, I hope you're at least getting your rocks off with an attractive lady."

Bob was cradling his forehead in his hand and trying to escape from Suzanne's house without having this conversation. Whenever he stopped to pick up dinner instead of cooking something at home, he always brought something for her, too. It was the neighborly thing to do, especially when your neighbor was decades older than you, but right now he just wanted to vanish. 

"I wouldn't tell you even if I was," he replied, earning a laugh as she opened up the container of soup at her kitchen table. 

"Sit down and stay for a while," she told him, pointing to the empty chair. "I'll pay you back for dinner with my charm and witticism since you won't accept any money."

His phone started to vibrate in his uniform pocket, and he dug it out thinking it was probably Jessica having finished mocking up her barbarian character for their campaign, but it was a text from an unknown number. He was about to pocket his phone again, but then he saw the words book recommendations and paused. He quickly unlocked the phone and started reading the texts that were coming through.

I have some book recommendations for you if you still want them. I'm sorry I didn't send them over the weekend.

This is Anna, by the way.

I should have started with that information.

Wow. This is already embarrassing.

Bob laughed and started to type back immediately, and then Suzanne's voice cut across his thoughts. "Are you sure you don't have a special lady? You're smiling an awful lot at your phone."

He looked at her and shook his head. "I'm sure. I like this girl, but she doesn't return my feelings that way. She's just sending me some recommendations." He started to back away as he added, "Enjoy your soup. I'll see you later, Suzanne."

"Good night, Robert."

Bob ended up standing just inside his front door as he saved Anna's number and typed back a message to her. He thought keeping it simple would be his best move. Anything more than that and he'd embarrass himself once again by getting ahead of himself with his feelings. 

I would love some more recommendations from you. You're the expert.

He only had to wait about a minute for her response, which was just a list of book after book after book that he'd never even heard of. The first were the ones she'd given to him verbally on Friday night, but the rest were just as foreign to him.

Anna Webber: Persuasion by Austen. Northanger Abbey by Austen, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D. H. Lawrence, The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton, Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy, Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell, and The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (because you like poetry so much)

Bob quickly ate his own container of soup while he read the list over and over again. Then without changing out of his uniform, he grabbed the keys to his beat up truck and headed to the bookstore in North Park to see if he could find any of these titles before they closed.

The store was virtually empty, and when he climbed the stairs up to the slightly dusty loft he could practically picture Anna's pretty hands and painted nails gliding along all of the spines. He could imagine her pretty, wide eyes looking up at him before she figured out he was boring. He could hear her laugh as he made his way to the spot where they had been standing together.

That horrible Vonnegut book was still there which made him chuckle. "Figures nobody else would want to read it," he muttered as he reached for it. Then he backtracked a little bit to start collecting everything from Anna's list. He referenced his text messages several times, hunting all over the Classics section until he had almost everything in order. Then he spread them out along the shelf and took a photo. He texted it to her before he could second guess himself after he added a short caption. 

Did I miss anything?

He was walking back down to the poetry section when his phone vibrated.

Anna Webber: You're at the bookstore right now? The one in North Park?

Bob froze in the middle of the stairs. He embarrassed himself without even knowing it. He must seem desperate right now. Running out to the store as soon as she sent him the list. "Shit," he groaned softly. When he got another message, he was almost afraid to look at it.

Anna Webber: I LOVE that store. I wish I were there right now, too.

Bob thought that sounded perfect, actually. Maybe if she were here now, she wouldn't run away this time. He'd been playing those kinds of scenarios over and over in his head, ones where she liked him back the way he liked her. Ones where they left the bookstore holding hands.

He continued downstairs to look for the book of poems she suggested for him, which he found quickly, along with Votive by Keiran Goddard. Would Anna like a copy of his favorite book of poetry? Did he even want to ask her? At this point, he had nothing to lose. She wasn't going to suddenly want him, but that shouldn't stop him from sharing a recommendation of his own. Especially when she might really enjoy something he found so spectacular. 

Bob held the book up and snapped a quick selfie, sending it away into the universe before dwelling on it too much.

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

Anna was preparing a piece of toast with jelly for herself or dinner, desperately wishing she were back at the bookstore. Bob was there, probably smelling so nice and luring everyone else who was shopping closer to him. Perhaps he was wearing another Dungeons & Dragons shirt like he'd worn to the Navy bar. Perhaps his biceps were straining against it.

She didn't have to use her vivid imagination for very long, because suddenly Bob was staring at her through her phone screen with his crooked little smile and his beautiful eyes. And his uniform. 

"Oh my god." The toast slipped from her fingers and landed jelly side down on her plate as she took in every single detail. Navy uniforms were khaki? Why had she assumed they were all navy blue? Why didn't she know more about the Navy? She was going to take the time to learn everything she could about the United States Navy. 

When she realized her mouth was dry, she reached for her glass of water and downed it. She was in a daze. A Bob Floyd induced daze. Even all the little pins on his shirt were distracting. She wanted to count all of them. She wanted to touch them. She wondered what they would feel like if she pressed her lips to them. 

"Stop," she gasped. But she couldn't. Now her eyes drifted up to his face again, and she thought she'd only really ever seen the exact color of his eyes in a Kandinsky painting at the Guggenheim. She couldn't look away. "No. No. No!" she moaned. And then she finally read the actual message he'd typed out after gawking at his photo for five whole minutes. 

Bob Floyd: Have you ever read Votive by Keiran Goddard? It's my favorite collection of poetry. 

Anna laughed a little hysterically. She hadn't even noticed he was holding up a book at all. His graceful fingers were wrapped around the damn thing, but she'd been too distracted by him to actually look at the book. But now the fact that she'd never read Goddard before had her flushed and flustered, because Bob had sent a book recommendation to her. Nobody ever did that, and all she could think about was how she absolutely needed to get her hands on a copy and devour the whole entire thing if it was something he liked. 

Very calmly and rationally, she typed back to him.

I have not read it yet, but I'll add it to my list of things to check out of the library. 

When she set her phone down and realized her toast had become a casualty to this text conversation, she moaned and flipped it back over. Her heart was still beating a little erratically from looking at Bob's photo for too long, and she didn't think she could even eat. There was no way she could waste any food in her current financial state though, so she took a bite anyway as he texted her back.

Bob Floyd: I'll just pick it up for you while I'm here. I hope you'll like it, but if you hate it, that's okay too. It's a bit of an acquired taste.

Oh no. She couldn't let him buy it, because she didn't have any extra spending money at the moment to be able to pay him back. But admitting that to him would be excruciatingly embarrassing, and she didn't even think she could do it. Perhaps she could scrape together twenty dollars if she skipped a few meals, but then she wouldn't be able to join the girls in the quad at lunchtime. They'd notice her lack of food right away. 

"Why are you such a disaster?" she asked herself as she scarfed down the rest of her toast and typed back to him.

Thank you. I can pay you back for it later.

She would figure it out. She always did. Even when she didn't want to, she managed to find a way to solve her problems. Even when it hurt.

Bob Floyd: It's my treat. I can give it to Bradley or Jake at work tomorrow. I'm sure either of the ladies wouldn't mind getting it to you when they see you. Or if you feel like it, we could meet for coffee one day and I could give it to you in person. Just let me know.

"Oh, Anna," she whispered, already typing out a response before she could think better of it.

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

Bob was surprised Anna took him up on his offer to meet for coffee, but he found himself looking forward to it in spite of the fact that he was still pining a bit. He'd get over it in time. He'd find someone new to crush on, or maybe he'd meet another girl that he was interested in, and maybe she would be interested back. But none of that stopped him from being excited at the prospect of being around her again. And none of that prepared him for the way he felt when Anna pushed through the door of the coffee shop on Wednesday evening and looked around tentatively. Her red hair was in another loose braid, and her freckles were so endearing.

As soon as her eyes landed on him, she looked less apprehensive but also more resigned. When she approached the table where he was sitting with three books, he stood. "Hey. Anna. How are you?"

"Hi, Bob." Even her voice was soft and sweet as her eyes swept along his face and body. She blushed a pretty shade of pink as she said, "Thanks for the book. Will you let me buy you something to drink?"

He didn't respond beyond nodding and leading the way toward the counter. He listened to her order a small coffee before he ordered a large hot tea, and when she reached for her wallet, he was already handing over a twenty. When she looked up at him with wide, brown eyes, he just smiled. "You don't have to buy me a drink."

She watched the money leave his hand as she said, "Well, you don't have to buy me one either."

"Too late."

She was quiet as they returned to the small table with their hot beverages, but as soon as she sat, she said, "You'll have to let me pay next time."

Bob slid two of the books across the table as he asked, "Next time?" But she didn't respond as she let her fingers brush along Votive before she picked it up to reveal the one underneath it.

Anna's laughter filled the small space as her eyes darted back up to meet his. "You bought Cat's Cradle? I didn't think that was the kind of thing you were looking for?"

He glanced down into his tea. "Uh, it's not. I got it for you."

"Bob," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the spine now. He liked her nail polish and wanted to touch her hands. "You did not have to get me two books."

"Yes I did," he said with a smile. "Vonnegut sounds horrible. I felt bad for it because nobody else was ever going to buy it. I couldn't just leave it to rot on the shelf when I know the only person who would be willing to give it a nice home."

When she laughed again, she seemed resigned to the fact that the books were both hers. "Thanks. Money is a little tight for me right now. You know how it is when you first move," she told him while she fidgeted a bit. "But next time, I'll buy your drink. Or your book. Or something."

"You keep saying 'next time'."

Anna poked at her coffee cup and said, "I thought maybe.... we could be friends."

"Friends." His voice felt and sounded stale. The word made him feel sadder than it should have. "Of course."

She looked even more relieved now as she took a sip of her coffee, but Bob was busy trying not to memorize the pretty pattern of her freckles across her nose and the way her lips were pursed. He wouldn't look at a friend that way. 

"Which book is that?" she asked, nodding toward the last one in front of him. 

He flipped it over so she could see the cover, and he said, "Oh, it's The Age of Innocence. I'm almost done reading it, and I was just hoping to get your opinions on a few things."

Anna's eyes went wider. "You're almost done reading it? Already?"

"Yeah." His voice sounded like a groan, and he knew he should be embarrassed since she recommended it two days ago, but he said, "Once I start a new book, I can't put it down if it's good."

"So you like it?" she asked, leaning a little closer to him as a smile played along her lips. 

"It's fantastic," he replied, and her foot brushed his softly beneath the table.

Anna licked her lips and shifted in her seat as she made a soft sound that just made Bob want to get closer to her. She clasped her hands on the table in front of her and cleared her throat before she blurted out. "You're really handsome." His lips parted wordlessly, unsure how to respond, but he didn't have to as she immediately said, "And you're not boring. Not at all. I could have stayed in that dusty bookstore all afternoon, tucked away in the loft, talking to you about book after book."

"Oh," he replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Really?"

"Yes. Really," she said, and it sounded like she meant it. "I didn't disappear because of you. I disappeared because of me. And I'm really sorry about that."

Then he realized what was going on. His friends got to her already. He'd told Jessica on Saturday night that he was sure Anna ditched him because he's probably not as handsome or interesting as she's used to. And now he was going to have to text her and tell her to lay off. This whole thing was embarrassing enough without having to hear Anna pity him like this.

"Don't worry about it," he told her softly with his best attempt at a smile. "We can be friends."

When he got home, she texted him to thank him again for the books and the coffee. But he was still thinking about her freckles and how far down her neck they might go. Maybe they made a pretty pattern across her shoulders, too. Maybe they would disappear into her bra, a perfect treasure for another man to find. But not Bob. Bob and Anna were just friends.

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

When Anna finally got home after taking two buses, it was so late, she knew she should go right to bed. But she was wishing for another cheap bottle of wine to try to take her mind off of Bob. He was perfect, and she couldn't let herself have him. They could be friends, but nothing more. She could send him texts, but they couldn't flirt. 

She already missed his soft voice and the way he gave her his entire focus when they were together. He bought her two books! Nobody else ever bought her books! And he read the ones she recommended to him! Maybe Kevin was to blame for most things that had gone wrong in her life, but literally no man she'd ever known was as kind and thoughtful as Bob.

She collapsed back onto her bed in her sad apartment were she could look at her kitchen and her bathroom at the same time, and she opened the book of poetry. Bob's favorite poetry. Within minutes of reading the first few pages, she felt warmer and maybe a little flustered. The passages were romantic and insightful in such a familiar way. Something was tickling at her brain, trying to trigger a memory. She kept reading, making it fifteen pages in before she gasped and realized what it was. 

"Sky Writing," she murmured, reaching for her computer in favor of the book. She was reminded of her favorite novice poet from her favorite website. The poetry in the book sounded a bit like the poems written by Sky Writing, and now Anna was even more of a mess knowing that this was the kind of intimate literature Bob preferred to read. 

She wanted him. She wanted to know what his big, sturdy hands would feel like on her body. What his lips tasted like. She wanted to erase that pinch of doubt she saw on his face when she tried to reassure him that even though they were going to be just friends, she definitely found him attractive. 

The next time she went shopping, she was going to need to stock up on some more bottles of cheap wine.

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

Just friends. Okay, Anna. Sure, babe. Let's see how long that lasts. Bob's wingwomen are powerful. Thank you @lauratang for the book/reading list! And thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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[joelscruff]

ummm hi this is so random i just needed to tell someone about this cause no one i know likes pedro

so i was watching s1 narcos and javi was wearing this fkn white half sleeved shirt and they knew what they were fucking doing and i’m dying he’s so fkn hot what do i do!!, if i was interning for him and he walked in the room wearing that oh my fkn god i would be dead sorry for this rant

soaked (javier peña x f!reader) 18+

so as usual what was meant to be a little drabble became a full-fledged fic. what is wrong with me????? this outfit is truly insane though and i couldn't stop thinking about it getting wet 👀 i hope you enjoy xo (and thank you anon for the inspo and for telling me what episode this lovely shirt was in!) summary: it's hard being an intern for a man who won't even look at you, but maybe there's something else to it that you don't see. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: smut, blowjobs, deepthroating, protected p in v sex, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink (javi has a big dick), biting, probably bad spanish (blame google) word count: 6k (this was supposed to be a drabble!!!!!!! wtf!!!!!!!!) ao3

You're pretty sure you're going to quit your job.

You've been an intern at the DEA for about a month now, in charge of extremely mundane things like pouring coffee and organizing paperwork. No one really talks to you other than Steve Murphy, one of the agents you're assigned to, and even then he's too busy to really give you much attention. It's lonely and boring, and part of you thinks you might have quit already, if it wasn't for...

"Morning, asshole," Javier Peña enters the office with long strides, tossing a stack of papers toward your (very tiny) desk. You can't help but stare at him, swallowing nervously as you assess the plain white shirt he's wearing, loosely tucked into his tight jeans and accentuating his strong, tan arms. How does he always look so good? His hair is messy, brown curls tangled and sticking up in places like he's just rolled out of bed, and he probably has. The faint scent of whisky that follows him tells you all you need to know about how he spent his evening.

You're worried for only half a second that he's talking to you, but you realize his gaze is directed toward Steve, who simply shrugs.

"You didn't have to come," he replies with a laugh, "You coulda said no."

"To your fucking wife? Please." Javier sits down in his chair with force, leaning back to immediately put his long legs up on his desk and reach for a cigarette from his pocket, "She was excited about it, you dick."

Steve just laughs again, turning back to his work, "You did the right thing, man. I don't know what else to say."

You wish you understood the story, knew what they were playfully ribbing each other about, but for the past month you've been on the outside of their relationship. Steve gives you reassuring smiles and some small talk every now and then but it's not enough to feel like you actually belong there, not to mention that Javier has only spoken to you once. Even now, as you rise from your chair to pour some fresh coffee into his mug, he doesn't even look at you.

"You owe me," he says to Steve, lighting up his cig, "Pendejo."

As you pour his coffee you can't help but notice the way the collar of his shirt rides low enough for you to see his collarbones, see the light dusting of hair smattered across his dark skin. There's a few droplets of sweat here and there, and you resist the urge to lean forward and press your tongue to each one.

"I'll have some more too, sweetheart," Steve says behind you, and your thoughts scatter as you pull back from Javier's mug to go re-fill Steve's. You're aware of the way Steve's eyes trail to your breasts, hidden only by a thin layer of blue fabric; it makes you self conscious and also a bit confused. Steve has never looked at you that way before, "That's a nice blouse," he says to you with a smile, eyes going back up to your face, "My wife has one similar to that."

"Thank you," you say quietly, finishing filling up his mug and wanting to go back over to your desk as soon as possible; you don't like the idea of a married man ogling you.

"Isn't this a nice blouse, Javi?" Steve continues, and you freeze.

What is Steve doing? Is he trying to get you insulted? You turn slightly to look at Javier, coffee pot trembling slightly in your hand when you see that he's got an irritated expression painting his face, mouth downturned in a stern frown.

"Thin ice, Steve," Javier replies and takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes set firmly on Steve's face, not even bothering to even look at the blouse in question.

"What? It's nice," Steve seems to be feigning innocence, yet again another inside joke you're not apart of. Except this time it's at your expense and you're not sure how that makes you feel. Suddenly Steve reaches up and takes a ruffle of your blouse near your arm between his fingers, "Really soft, too."

"Steve," Javier repeats, eyes dark, "Thin. Ice."

You look from Javier to Steve and back to Javier, absolutely bewildered. It's like things are being said but you can't hear them, have no idea what kind of secret language they're speaking. You pull away from Steve a bit, feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna go put this back," you say quietly, referring to the coffee pot.

"Of course, sweetheart, I won't keep you," Steve gives you a wink and you know something is off. From what you've gathered so far from your time here, Steve loves his wife, has a picture of her on his desk right in front of him that you always catch him looking at. You've only been here a month but you swear he's mentioned her every single day, if not to you then to Javier, if not to Javier then to another intern or agent. So why is he suddenly being flirtatious with you?

You leave the room and return the coffee pot, staring at the aged tiles on the wall in front of you and feeling a lump form in your throat. You really do hate it here, you don't know why you've stayed as long as you have.

Yes you do, you idiot.

--

It's raining outside by the time your work day ends and you feel yourself deflate as you walk out the front doors of the DEA; you'd been hoping for the hot weather to continue so you could go for a run and distract yourself from this weird and uncomfortable day, decide whether or not you're going to just quit already. It's like the heavy rainfall is mocking you.

You feel much too depressed to walk home so you go back inside the building and make your way back to the office to call a taxi. Steve passes you in the hallway and slows down, puts his hand up to stop you.

"Hey, I'm sorry for this morning," he says, eyes kind and gentle, "That was inappropriate, I shouldn't have touched your blouse."

You're not sure what to say, giving him a small shrug, "It's, uh, okay. I was just..." you shake your head, "Yeah, never mind, it's okay."

"You're wondering why I did it." he states, frowning, and you almost laugh at his immediate assessment of the situation; deflecting a DEA agent? Not the smartest idea.

"Well, yeah," you shrug, "It was kinda weird. You're usually, um... very respectful so-"

He winces, "I know, I'm sorry. It was just me trying to get on Peña's nerves," he shuffles awkwardly in front of you, shifting the weight from his left leg to his right and back again, "He'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but I owe him."

You look at him in total confusion, shaking your head, "I don't understand."

He chuckles, shaking his head, "I know, I'm just trying to figure out how to word it," he bites his lip and then seems to resign himself to something, "Javier... he likes you."

You stare.

"My wife and I, we kind of wrangled him into having dinner with us last night. They were talking, she was askin' him about women, if he'd been on any dates, typical questions," he laughs at the memory, "He said no and she asked if he had his eye on anyone. He said no again, but I know this guy like the back of my hand, I can read him like a book. I knew that second no was a goddamn lie."

Your heart is pounding in your chest but your thoughts are muddled, unable to draw a clear conclusion from what Steve is telling you. You continue to just stand there wordlessly, listening.

"A few drinks later - well, more than a few - I asked him who he had his eye on. You wouldn't believe how easy it was to get it out of him, he just smiled, took a drag of his cig..." Steve acts this out, bringing his cigarette-less fingers to his lips and pretending to take a puff, eyes heavy-lidded and bleary, "And said your name."

You can't believe what you're hearing, there's no way it's true, no way he's telling you about something that actually happened. Your heart continues to pound relentlessly, staring at Steve like he's speaking another language, a million wordless questions flying back and forth in your mind at top speed.

"She's the most beautiful creature I ever saw," he quotes, voice slurred and gravelly, "She's sunshine incarnate."

"But he doesn't even look at me!" you blurt out, eyes wide.

Steve drops his hand and laughs again, shaking his head, "Sweetheart, he looks at you all the time. You're just looking away when he does it."

This revelation hits you hard, makes your breath catch in your throat. Is this actually true? Or is this some sick inside joke they're playing to get you to finally put in your notice, one of their private little games that you're not a part of. On principle it's the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard; the man has spoken to you once, only once, and it was on your first day. He'd introduced himself, shook your hand, and that was that.

"What do you mean you're doing this because you owe him?" you ask, shaking the thoughts away, "Isn't this just humiliating him?"

Steve smiles again, slightly smug, "I see the way you look at him too, you know. I'm not blind," he looks at his watch then and makes a face, "Listen, I gotta go, but if you're heading back to the office, he's still there."

"But, Steve, I-"

"Trust me," he gives you one of his reassuring smiles, "He needs - scratch that - wants someone like you, someone... stable."

You don't think being on the verge of quitting a paid internship would be considered stable, but you understand what he means. You may have only been here a short time but Javier's reputation is widely known around the office, something you've found yourself sympathizing with instead of villainizing him like others do. You know his history with women is pretty bleak relationship wise.

Steve begins to walk away from you, leaving you standing there speechless, "You better hurry before he leaves," he calls. He picks up his pace but you're still able to hear him as he mutters, "and that's my good deed done," then saunters down the hall and disappears around the corner.

--

The office you share with Javier and Steve is the only one still lit on your floor, meaning everyone else has already gone home. You know that Javier likes to stay late sometimes, work on the case alone and look at things from different angles in solitude. You feel nervous as you approach the door, not wanting to bother him. But regardless of whether what Steve said is true, you still need to call a taxi.

You turn the knob and walk inside, trying to be as quiet and slow as possible. Your efforts are pointless though, as Javier looks up from his work and sees you immediately, his eyebrows going up in surprise.

"It's raining," you say softly, awkwardly, "I need to call a cab."

"Right," he nods to you and then returns to his work without an afterthought, writing something down on a piece of paper.

You stand there for a few moments just looking at him, watching his face, trying to find any indication of affection behind those focused eyes, his serious brow. He looks the same as always, lost in thought, scribbling away, handsome as he does it. The white shirt certainly isn't helping; he's unbuttoned it more now, his chest exposed and sunglasses hanging from a button near his pocket. He's so effortlessly gorgeous, it makes you ache.

He must sense you still standing there, not making any move to walk to your desk and pick up the phone. He looks up at you again, brow furrowed, "Do you need something?"

You shake your head quickly, cheeks burning, "N-no, sorry," you shuffle over to your desk and sit down in your chair, doing everything you can to avoid looking over at him again. You think about what Steve said, how Javier is always looking at you but only when you're not aware. You wonder if he's doing it right now.

You reach for the phone, unable to stop your hands from shaking slightly. You're almost sure you feel his gaze on you now, boring into you and watching every move you make, eyes deep and brown and calculating, always calculating. Assessing. What does he make of you? If what Steve said is true, what does he see when he looks at you?

Sunshine incarnate.

You can't help but smile at the words, dialing the number for the taxi slowly as your brain repeats them over and over. Had he really said that about you? And meant it? Your thoughts are so jumbled that you accidentally press the wrong button and have to start over, hanging up the phone quickly before picking it up again.

Just as you go to press the first number, a hand comes down and stops you, brushing against your fingers in a tender and gentle way. You freeze, staring at the hand, knowing it's his, knowing that if he wasn't looking at you before, he certainly is now.

"Why don't I just give you a ride, cariño?" he asks quietly, voice slightly rough around the edges, "I'm heading home now anyway."

You will yourself to look up, eyes capturing his immediately and getting lost in their depths, big and brown and soft and searching. Your lips part but no words come out. You force yourself to give him a nod, repressing the urge to jump up and kiss his mouth, envelop him, hold him close and look even deeper into those soulful eyes.

You stand shakily and walk to the door, feeling his eyes on your back as he follows behind you. The walk down to the main doors of the building is completely silent, save for the clicking of your heels against the linoleum and his heavy masculine breaths at your side. It's still raining once you get outside, and you can't help but make a face.

"Not a fan of the rain?" he asks you a bit loudly over the pelting of water against the concrete, a smile tugging at his lips.

"It's not my favorite," you admit, wincing, "Where are you parked?"

"You stay here where it's dry, I'll pull it up front."

You watch him dart out from under the eaves of the building, rain immediately soaking his white shirt without apology. You watch with wide eyes as his back becomes visible from the downpour, skin a pinkish brown beneath the suddenly translucent material. You catch sight of two dimples near his lower back before he disappears from eyesight.

You swallow, trying to pretend you don't feel yourself begin to throb within the confines of your underwear, a wetness pooling between your legs that has nothing to do with the rain.

Only a few moments later he's pulling up front, waving at you from behind the car window. You dash forward and feel the rain soak your hair, your skin, your blouse. There was nothing about rain in the forecast this morning so you hadn't thought to bring a jacket with you; you're now regretting that decision greatly.

The passenger side door is already unlocked and you slip inside gratefully, slamming it behind you and exhaling loudly. The rain continues to pelt the windows, the roof, a steady and repetitive sound as you look down at yourself to assess the damage. At least you chose a blue blouse and not a white one, although you can faintly see the shape of your nipples poking through the fabric. A bit self conscious, you cross your arms and huddle forward in the seat.

"Should heat up soon," Javier says beside you, quiet like he'd been in the office, "Seatbelt."

You glance over at him for only a second but regret it instantly, immediately noticing the way the rain has completely soaked his white shirt, exposing the taut and firm muscle beneath, his wide pecs, dark nipples, his flat stomach and belly button, the trail of hair that leads down to...

You grip the seatbelt in your hands and turn your attention to clicking it into place, feeling yourself throb even more. God, he's so fucking hot. You can't blame all the women he's slept with for wanting to get in his pants, he's a fucking Adonis. You take a few deep breaths as he pulls away from the building, focusing on the small bursts of heat that are beginning to radiate from the vents in front of you. You rub your hands together, momentarily forgetting that he could probably see your breasts through your blouse if he looked over.

But that's just it...you never know when he's looking at you. And part of you wonders what would be so bad about him seeing you like this.

You drive together in silence for a few moments, an undeniable tension building and building the longer you both sit there without speaking. Every so often you can't help but let your eyes trail back over to his body, eyeing the way his wet shirt clings to his skin, beginning to slowly dry in small patches from the car heater. You can vaguely make out the shape of a scar on his abdomen and you find yourself wanting to reach out and trace your finger along the length of it, ask him how he got it, kiss it better.

"I feel you watching me, querida," he murmurs, eyes on the road.

Your eyes widen and you sit back in your seat stiffly, "S-sorry."

In your peripheral vision you see him smile, thumbing the steering wheel, "You're always watching me, aren't you?"

You don't know what to say, swallowing tightly around the lump you feel building in your throat. Is he about to call you out? Tell you to stop?

"That's okay, I'm always watching you too," he says it quietly like it's a secret, taking a heavy breath as he continues, "But you know that now, don't you? Steve's a little shit."

You can't help but laugh, which makes him grin wider. He looks over at you and you meet his gaze, feeling shy when his eyes drop to your chest and back up again.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he murmurs, eyes back on the road, "I'll be real gentle, I promise."

You stare at him, slightly confused. It's only a moment later that it dawns on you: you never told him your address.

"Where are we going?" you ask quietly, voice shaking slightly in anticipation.

He gives you another side glance, smiling kindly at you, "I think you already know, cariño."

--

No more than twenty minutes later he has you laid out on his bed completely bare, his mouth pressed firmly against your wet core as you writhe and moan under his touch. His palms are pressed flush against your stomach, holding you to the mattress, never releasing you even when you start shaking uncontrollably from your orgasm. He just keeps going, sucking on your clit and fingering your throbbing hole, nose buried in the patch of hair on your mound.

"Javi, Javi, Javi," you repeat over and over again, thrashing in his sheets, fisting the duvet. He'd told you as soon as he had you in his bed that he didn't want you calling him Javier anymore, and you'd had absolutely no problem with amending your vocabulary.

He hums, giving your clit one last hard suck and making you almost scream with overstimulation, body heaving up off the mattress as he finally pulls away from your core and looks up at you with those big brown eyes.

"That's it, querida, feels so good, doesn't it?" he breathes, crawling back up and pressing kisses against your skin as you come down from the pleasure, heart pounding in your chest, "Your little pussy needed me so bad, didn't she?"

"Yes," you whimper, voice weak, unable to say anything else as he continues to kiss along your breasts, your neck, your cheeks. His mustache is soft and welcoming against your skin, tickling every inch of it in the best way possible as he worships you.

You can't believe you're even here, lying in his bed, lights dim as the rain continues to pelt the windows and drench the city while Javier drenches you. He's still wearing the white shirt, still damp and tucked into his jeans. You reach forward and pull at his belt, fingers trembling.

"Oh, cariño," he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth hungrily, "Want my cock now, do you? Thought that might have been too much for you."

You shake your head quickly, feeling tears sting in your eyes at the thought of him not giving you what you want, "Please," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please, Javi. I need it so bad."

"You do," he agrees, hands trailing upward to squeeze your breasts, thumbing your hard nipples, "You need to get fucked, knew it from the moment I met you. Knew it had to be me to do it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask, voice breathless as he begins to undo his belt, "Why didn't you talk to me?"

"Because you're so pretty, hermosa, so pure," he tosses his belt to the ground and reaches for the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. Your eyes fall to his bare chest, his stomach, so much clearer now than they'd been through the wet fabric. He's absolutely perfect, and you feel yourself salivate as you reach up to palm the soft skin of his belly, feeling the hair under your fingertips, tracing the scar you'd seen earlier. He grabs your hand gently, squeezes it, "I knew if I talked to you, you'd end up right here. In my bed."

"And that would be a bad thing?" you whisper, eyes searching his, "This is bad?"

He shakes his head quickly, unbuttoning his jeans, "No, querida, this isn't bad. This is what you need, I know that now," he unzips himself and your jaw goes slack when you see that he isn't wearing any underwear, his cock completely bare and on display beneath the denim. He pulls himself out, showing you how long and thick he is, cut and curved, leaking from the tip. Some of it drips onto your tummy and you both watch it dribble down your skin, dipping into your belly button, "You need it," he whispers, "Knew it when you started looking at me like that."

"Like what?" you breathe, still staring at his large cock, wondering how it'll possibly fit inside you without splitting you in half.

"Like the way you're looking at my cock right now," he says softly, shuffling forward a bit on the bed, "Now, sit up, okay? Give it a kiss."

You don't need telling twice, scrambling amongst the sheets and crouching forward to envelop the head of his cock inside your mouth, warm and sticky on your tongue. You close your eyes, feeling them almost roll back in your head as you suck gently and swallow down his precome, tickling the back of your throat.

"Gonna see how much you can take, okay?" he says quietly above you, and you feel his hands in your hair, stroking your scalp reassuringly, "You can stop if it's too much."

You slowly move forward to take a few more inches, eyes still closed, only opening again when you feel his hands grip your hair tighter. You look up then, eyes lidded and heavy, and he's looking down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Such a pretty mouth," he murmurs, thumbing the base of your neck, "Just made to have my cock in there, huh?"

You nod slowly, breathing through your nose and pushing yourself further, wanting to take as much of him as you possibly can. You get about three quarters down and feel the tip prod the back of your throat. You still, inhaling deeply and feeling tears well in your eyes, silently begging yourself not to gag.

"Just a little more, querida," he whispers, stroking your hair, "You can do it, I know you can."

With his soothing encouragement you slowly take the rest of him, not stopping until your nose is buried in his pubic hair. You inhale again and your senses are overwhelmed by his masculine, sweaty, musky scent. It's heaven. You open your eyes and look up at him, tears welling over and spilling down your cheeks.

"Oh, baby," he says, biting back a moan, "That's so good, knew you could do it," he feels you trembling on his cock, throat closing around the head, and he carefully slides you off.

You start coughing immediately, drool running down your chin in long ropes. You'd feel embarrassed but he's smiling at you, leaning down to press kisses to your forehead.

"You did so good," he praises, wiping your chin with his thumb and kissing your lips tenderly, tasting himself on your tongue, "Took all of it so well, querida."

"I can do it again," you say quickly through another cough, voice rough, "Just gimme a second."

He smiles wider and shakes his head, "I know you can, but you don't need to, not tonight. Just wanted to see if you could take the whole thing in that pretty mouth," he thumbs your lips and you immediately capture it between them, sucking his thumb feverishly. He groans slightly, watching it disappear, "and now that I know you can... we need to see how well it fits inside that perfect little pussy, hm? Think it'll fit?"

You nod immediately, releasing his thumb with a pop, "I'll make it fit."

He groans again, getting off the bed and pulling his jeans down his legs, "That's what I like to hear, baby." He pulls open his bedside table and grabs a condom, tossing it over to you, "Now put that on my dick, cariño, gotta be safe."

You shuffle to the edge of the bed, ripping the condom open with your teeth and sliding it down his length. You feel his eyes on you now; you'd never been able to feel it before, had no idea he'd even been looking at you, and now it's like his gaze is burning your skin. You lean forward and press one more kiss to the head of his cock, smirking when it twitches.

"Come here, hermosa," he mutters, taking your hand and carefully pulling you off the bed. You both stand there naked in front of each other as he leans down to kiss you tenderly, hand trailing up to press flush against your back. He's so beyond everything you could have ever hoped for; you still can't believe this is actually happening, "Stay there for a second," he whispers.

You watch as he gets on the bed and sits at the top, back leaning against the headboard. His cock stands stiff and inviting beneath him as he splays his legs out and opens his arms.

"Sit on my cock, querida," he breathes, and without any hesitation you climb into his lap, legs shaking as you grip his shoulders and hover above him, "Nice and slow," he whispers, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, "That's it."

The tip of his cock breaches your entrance and you keen at the sensation, still shaking slightly as you slowly ease yourself down on him. You're so wet, his length slipping inside easily at first, but once you get about halfway down your hips stutter and you whimper.

"You got it, baby," he breathes, thumbs splayed across your belly, "Not much more," he pushes inside a bit further and you cry out in ecstasy, burying your face in his shoulder. His hands move to your back, holding you tightly against him as he continues to fill you, not stopping until he bottoms out, "There," he murmurs, rubbing circles into the skin of your back, "That's all of it, cariño. Did so good, taking it so well for me."

You sit like that for a few moments, him whispering praises in your ear and rubbing your skin soothingly. He's so thick inside you, you've never felt so full. After a few more moments he carefully grips your hips and slowly begins to move you on his cock, up and down, watching your expression and reveling in the whines emitting from your throat.

"That's it," he says, brow furrowed as he keeps his eyes on your face, "That's what a real cock feels like, querida, and it's the only one you're gonna get from now on." Your face scrunches up in pleasure and you find yourself hiding in his shoulder again, wrapping your arms around him and starting to move your hips to match his pace.

"Javi," you whimper, feeling the head of his cock pushing against the deepest part of you every time you brace down, "So big inside me, Javi."

"I know, cariño," he murmurs, soothing you again with a gentle rub to your back, "Filling you up so good, huh?"

You hum and let yourself go, nose pressed into the dip of his collarbone as you still on his cock and let him go back to working you up and down, murmuring in your ear about how good you feel, what a perfect girl you are, how you'll never fuck anyone else but him for the rest of your life. And you want to believe it's true.

"Work won't be the same anymore," you say against his skin, voice muffled.

"Christ, baby, you're thinking about work?" he taps on your neck and you pull back to look at him, shivering as he continues to fuck you relentlessly as he speaks to you, "Don't think about work right now, querida, not when I've got my cock buried inside you."

"I want you to start fucking me at work," you say suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure as he hits the deepest part of you again, "In secret, please."

He stills for a second, surprise appearing on his face before he smiles, starts fucking you again with even more fervor, grunting with very thrust.

"Of course I will, baby," he says, pressing his forehead against yours, gripping your hips tighter and fucking you fast and hard, so much so that you feel yourself writhe off the bed again, fingers clasping around nothing as you moan loudly, "I told you, ever since I met you I knew you needed this, needed my cock," he kisses you then, wet and hot, and you feel the tension in your belly start to build, "Gonna give it to you every chance I get from now on, I promise."

You whimper at his words, fucking yourself down on him as hard as you can and letting out cries of pure bliss as he begins to hit your favorite spot over and over, so impossibly deep inside you that you think maybe he will split you open. He rises off the bed with you a bit, holding you tight to him as he wildly bucks into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna come, hermosa," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and sticky against your skin, "Give me one more, get that pussy all wet for me," you let out an inhuman sound and feel yourself involuntarily bite into his shoulder, making him groan.

"I'm sorry," you moan, pulling back and seeing the crescent shaped mark in his flesh.

"For what?" he groans, and you feel his thumb start to prod your clit, rubbing it furiously, "Do it again, baby, mark me up, make me yours," you feel your orgasm overtake you at the words, fingernails digging into his back as you writhe and cry in his arms. Without hesitation you bite down on him again, not hard enough to break the skin but enough that there will most certainly be a mark there tomorrow.

He groans at the sensation, pulling you impossibly closer and stilling inside you as he pumps the condom full of his spend, twitching inside you at every pulse. He doesn't pull out right away, just lays still within you while you pant against his shoulder, eyeing the purple mark beginning to bloom on his skin.

"I bit you," you say, eyes wide.

He shifts slightly beneath you, cock still filling you up as he chuckles, "Yes, you did."

"I'm sor-"

He puts a hand up, shaking his head, "Don't apologize, cariño, I like it."

You nod slowly and carefully pull yourself off his cock, already missing the full sensation of having him deep inside you. You lay back on the bed beside him, eyes closed as he disposes of the condom and then settles himself tightly against your side, spooning you and pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck.

"Did you mean what you said?" you ask quietly, eyes still closed as you feel yourself begin to drift off in his embrace, "Will you really fuck me at work?"

He laughs, gorgeous and perfect in your ear, "Yes, mi sol, I meant it."

--

Javi takes you home early the next morning so you can change your clothes, not wanting Steve to know about what happened last night, as much as it would probably tickle him to know he had a hand in it. He waits for you outside, listening to the radio in his car and squinting against the bright sun, fingers tapping against the base of the window absentmindedly. After a few moments you come back out, wearing a yellow blouse this time in honor of your new nickname. He smiles radiantly at you and you know you made a good choice.

You both manage to keep Steve completely in the dark for the first part of the day; Javi goes back to ignoring you the way he usually does, which you have to admit makes you feel a little bad. But it's all water under the bridge when he follows you to the women's bathroom around noon and locks you inside one of the stalls with him. A few seconds later his cock is hitting the back of your throat as he proves to you that he wasn't lying.

--

"What's that?" Steve says in the late afternoon, only about an hour until you can go home. You look up from your desk but he isn't talking to you, his gaze fixed on Javi.

"What?" Javi replies, brow furrowing as he looks down at himself, "Got a bug on me or something?"

"No, you have a bite mark on your shoulder," Steve says matter-of-factly, and you feel your cheeks go hot, eyes widening as you stare at Javier and watch him figure out what to say.

He just shrugs coolly, "Yeah, slept with this wild bonita last night, she wanted to mark me," he looks back down at his work, "Your wife ever do shit like that, Murphy?"

Steve sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair, "No, she doesn't."

"Thought so," Javi smirks, still not looking up from his paperwork, and you watch as Steve twists his mouth into a scowl, shaking his head.

A few seconds later Steve's looking over at you, giving you a small look of what you can only describe as sympathy, "Sorry," he mouths, shrugging dejectedly, "My bad."

You give him a smile in return, shaking your head, unable to help the rush you feel at not getting caught.

"It's okay," you mouth back, "I'll get over it."

You know Javi is watching you this time.

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip (entirely optional of course but much appreciated).

[thewulf]

Little One || Aragorn

Summary: Request -I had an Aragorn request that I wanted to send you; if it’s something you’d be interested in writing I know it’ll be perfect (but if it doesn’t strike your fancy I completely understand)!! After reading your fic with the orc attack I was thinking about how Aragorn would respond to reader being injured defending the hobbits... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you for the request @fluentmoviequoter !! Had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy :) Kinda angsty but hella fluffy as always :)

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k +

TW: orcs, talks of blood, arrows, getting shot, yelling, angsty

You and Strider had been Rangers together for the better part of fifty years now. The two of you quickly found solace in the other. The two of you just seemed to compliment the other. What he lacked you picked up for him and vice versa. It wasn’t often he could find somebody who just understood him. So, he decided to keep you close but always safe.

He did what he wanted after all. He had a high enough ranking quickly. You were assigned nearly every patrol, raid, quest whatever the hell it was he did it with you. And you learned quicker than you had ever thought even possible with his aid. He wasn’t brutal on you, but he was not easy by any stretch of the imagination. He wanted you alive, so he trained you to stay that way. He had to be a little mean. A little too much sometime. For that was the real world. You couldn’t go out in the world as freely as one once could.

So, when Gandalf proposed the deal of getting the Hobbits from Bree to Rivendell he had agreed on the condition you could come with them. He wasn’t willing to leave you in some random village town in Eriador. No, he would never do that. Gandalf had agreed without a second thought thinking it was a good idea to have two Rangers instead of one.

You had decided fairly quickly that the Nazgûl was on your list of least favorite things in middle-earth you’d had the pleasure of coming across. You could deal with spiders and orcs buts these creatures were eerily different. Ice cold and terrifying, soul sucking. But you needed to remain stoic in the face of it all to help the Hobbits. The poor things were shaking they were so terrified. You’d tried stories of tales far and wide to shake their minds of their troubles, but it seemed no use as they only looked to the two of you in terror around every twist and turn.

When you stopped for the night to camp you’d noticed that Strider had led you deep into a dense forest. You’d never been the best at tracking, so you often led it to him. You really should’ve paid better attention before as you were often so reliant on his talents.

“I am off to gather a few plants for some tea. I will be back in an hour. Y/N, I trust they shall remain safe in your care?” He asked and you nodded without so much as a second thought.

“Of course.” You smiled to him, “Off you go. I know how mean you get without your tea.” That earned a hearty round of laughs from the Hobbit’s as they laid out their bedrolls for the night. It was nice to hear such a pleasant sound instead of hearing the screeching in the distance.

“I will remember that.” He glared at you with humor in his eyes before ducking into the night.

You turned back to the Hobbit’s with a stupid smile on your face not quite realizing how much you were giving way of your likeness towards the man, “Off to bed we go.” You shooed the silly little smirks right off their faces.

They all nodded quickly falling asleep without so much as a second thought. You were mighty jealous at the way they just did that. It took you far too long to fall asleep these days. Worry kept you up more than you liked to admit.

Thank whatever was out there for that worry that wouldn’t let you sleep as you heard the distant voices and branches breaking far off in the distance. Orcs. Had to be, they were so noisy. Your heartrate spiked as you heard them before you spotted them in the dark night. How in the hell had anything found you all the way out here?

“Up! Up!” You whisper shouted before shaking each of the Hobbits awake, “Abandon the camp we must go. Run” You grabbed for your sword and spare bow and arrow before ushering the small Hobbit’s further into the forest.

They ran ahead confused and disoriented having just fallen into a deep sleep but trusting you nonetheless. You knew you had made too much noise but did not quite realize how much the smaller ones were making as they ran.

You paused for a brief moment knowing your longer strides could catch up. You took a look behind you to see how in danger you truly were. The orcs hadn’t spotted your little group quite yet except one with keen eyes. Adrenaline shot through you as you saw the orcs arrow trained right at the back of Frodo’s head as he ran forward. He’d be dead instantly if the orc shot the arrow before you could stop it.

Panic shot through you as you ran ahead beside him pushing him to the ground with more force than you’d truly meant. You’d thought you were in the clear before the searing pain of being shot by an orc arrow throbbed through your shoulder blade sending you to the ground before you could think. Frodo rolled beside you which sprung Merry, Pippin and Sam into action as they pulled the two of you behind the thick trees of the dense forest. Fortunately for you it was mid-summer, and the forest was coated in dense foliage making it that much harder to find you and the Hobbits hiding in the trees.

Frodo looked more confused than upset before he saw the arrow protruding from your body. He’d understood instantly, “You have been hit miss Y/N!” Merry’s concerned voice only rose a few octaves as he saw the large arrow sticking right outside your shoulder. It hurt worse than it looked but you tried your best to bite back the tears as they were so unseasoned to such horrors in the world.

You looked down wincing at the arrow surely coated in poison. Thankfully you were only a few days out from Rivendell. You’d be fine… Strider not so much. Shuddering at the thought of the man who would be so mad you got hurt, you turned to the small Hobbit’s sitting in fear beside you.

Ignoring the arrow sticking out from your shoulder you sat up from the fall you took, “Listen, for there is not much time before they try and find us. Frodo and Sam run. Go find Strider. He will help end this swiftly.” You nodded watching them run quickly off into the forest. You’d sent Frodo off as he needed to be as far from the attacks as possible.

Wincing you turned yourself as best as you could towards Merry and Pippin, “Now, I need you two to be brave. You must snap this arrow as close to the wound as you can. I will fight these orcs off, but I cannot do that with this sticking out.” You huffed eyeing the rather large wooden arrow searing its mark in your shoulder blade.

Merry only gave you wide eyes as Pippin shook his head answering your request, “I cannot do that.”

“Not can I!” Merry agreed.

You looked behind you a little panicked seeing the orcs moving in closer. Far too close for your comfort. Lowering your voice, you leaned closer to them, “It does not matter any longer. Time is of the essence now. You must or we all die.” You glared at the two of them letting them both know quite how serious this was.

“Aye, turn away.” Merry stood with shaking hands grabbing at the arrow earning a hiss from your mouth. Pippin took his hands in his helping him get the leverage he needed to break the thick wood.

“All right.” You turned your head away clutching your hands into the earth trying to ground yourself. You had to fight back everything that was telling you to pass out as the arrow snapped in two under the hands of the much smaller Hobbits. A quiet whimper left your mouth as you tried your hardest to stay conscious. The orcs were close. You had to do something.

“Miss Y/N” Merry sounded concerned as he saw your face pale out and the orcs move closer, “Please be okay.”

You nodded blinking back the wave of nausea taking over your usually so agile self. This did not feel like your standard orc poison. You knew what that felt like and this was not it. This was moving faster than anything you’d been hit by them with, “I am fine mister Pippin.” You breathed trying to blink back the unshed tears. Pain only reminded you that you were alive. With another small groan you stood from the ground trying your hardest to fight the searing fire in your shoulder, “Stay quiet and hidden. It is best to attack them by surprise. Strider will be back soon. Let us try and wait this out as long as possible.” You whispered grabbing your sword from its sheath at your side.

You waited in silence as the first of the few crept into your field of vision. They must have been lost. No way a pack of orcs were this dumb. Or they were on a special mission. But you could wait no longer as they were likely to hear your breath or any sort of movement for he was a mere step away from you now.

Quickly, you sliced off its head without much of a sound. The loudness of the animals in the night covered up for its lifeless body hitting the ground giving you a second to recuperate and fight back the overwhelming feeling of pain now making its way down your arm.

When you killed the second and third the attention was finally on you. You were not able to be as graceful and let out a cry of pain as you had to use your bum arm to defend yourself. Darting behind a tree you narrowly avoided another arrow coming right for your head this time. But you didn’t have time to panic as the man you had been waiting for finally made his grand entrance. Just as you suspected it was over before it really begun. You were a fine Ranger. But Strider was an expert one.

Leaning back on the tree you let out the breath you were holding in. Never had you been so close to losing someone so quickly on a quest. Never had you been so close to being eliminated. You were usually so much better than this. Strider was getting in your head, and you were losing focus. A Ranger losing focus! That was unheard of. But Strider was your exception it seemed.

“You arrogant fool!” Strider yelled right at you as he came storming over to where you were leaning on the tree. He hadn’t seen the broken arrow in your shoulder nor the way you were holding your arm upright. He didn’t notice the sweat the coated your face or the distant gaze in your eyes. He was mad and he wanted to take it out on someone. That someone happened to be you.

You let out a cry in pain as he grabbed for the arm that you were holding gingerly. Even the smallest movement made it feel like your arm was getting ripped right apart. You had forgotten how painful poison was for it had been nearly fifty years since you’d been struck. The bastards made it as fast and as painful as possible. And whatever this stuff was seemed worse than before.

He moved his hand away from your arm after hearing your strangled cry. Pushing you back up against the tree, avoiding your injury, he felt the sticky liquid coating your outer garments. Blood. Of course, he knew what it was. He had only begun to panic as he saw the deliriousness in your gaze. You were hurt and badly at that. He was not used to this.

Frodo jumped in between the two of you, pushing Strider away just slightly, “She saved my life master Strider! Please have no anger towards her.”

His heart raced as he ordered the Hobbits to light a fire nodding at Frodo that he was done lashing out at you. He knew you needed a helping hand. Not one to hurt you while you were down. Gently, he pushed you down to the ground, “Sit down, nigol.” He’d all but ordered as he helped the Hobbit’s start a small fire. He couldn’t see your wound and you weren’t so forthcoming with information. That and he wanted to see it for himself.

A small smile came to your lips remembering the old nickname he’d given you, “Nigol… you have not called me that in quite some time Strider.”

Brushing your comment aside he asked you, “What happened?” As he sat down next to you waiting for the fire to glow so he could inspect your wound.

You turned towards him holding your eyebrows close together trying your best to bite back the pain, “Orcs happened is all. Caught a poisoned arrow to the shoulder.” Letting out a strangled sigh you sat further back against the tree.

“How did you get hit?” He clarified with more patience in his voice than you were used to. Maybe you looked worse than you felt because he never, ever cut you a break. And you appreciated him for that as you were still alive and usually avoidant of such injuries.

“Ugly bastard was aiming right at Frodo’s small little Hobbit head.” You frowned realizing if you hadn’t noticed Frodo would be sure as dead. You caught Strider’s smile at your crass language for he knew he would never grow tired of your fowl tongue. He loved it about you, “Had to push him out of the way and he nicked me instead.”

“I heard that miss Y/N!” Frodo yelled back at the two of you shaking his head at you, “Elves are not the only creatures with good hearing!” You only smiled as you watched them feed the small fire with more twigs and sticks. It surprised you that Strider ordered a fire for you’d just been ambushed. Who knew what else lurked beyond the trees that kept you hidden.

You let out a strangled laugh feeling the effects of the poison inch its way through your system. You watched as Strider looked at you with concern. It wasn’t often you were the one on the receiving end to such a look. You’d been under his wing for a better part of half a century. You’d gotten really excellent at not getting hurt. It must have been jarring to see you fighting the pain back with such a force. He’d never admit how much he had grown to love you. He didn’t like to see you in pain. Not a bit.

He sighed seeing the fleshy wound, “You must not be so careless next. I have trained you better than that.” He sighed inspecting the wound closely, “I must remove the arrow.” He spoke slowly feeling his heart drop at your startled expression.

You shook your head with a vengeance for you did not like that statement “We are but a few days from Rivendell. Surely they will have healers who can do that properly.”

He bit back the frown as he looked at your arm, “You will not have a few days if I do not get this out.” It wasn’t ominous but simply the truth.

“Is it not an Orc arrow?” You looked down knowing what his answer was going to be but trying to ignore it in your head was proving to be a challenge.

He gave you a solemn nod, “Aye, but it does not appear to be orc poison.”

All you could muster was a simple, “Oh.” Not thinking that was a possibility. You’d still concluded it was a different form of Orc poison. What could they possibly be using?

“It appears to be something much darker.” His frown only deepened as he was studying your wound. He had ripped your shirt where you had been hit to examine it closer. It was turning black far too fast to be the standard orc poison they’d become accustomed to.

You shuddered knowing the pain would be intolerable. You already seemed to be teetering on the precipice between the living world and the unconscious world, “Do your worst then.” You spoke quickly turning away and grabbing at a stick on the ground. When you tuned back he was just looking at you with such a sadness you couldn’t help but to ask, “What?”

He shook his head breaking the stare he had on you, “Nothing. Bite the stick. Don’t fight me. You know the rules.”. It had been a long time since you were at the mercy of his hands. You were but a young Ranger the last time you’d been caught in such a dreadful position. Back then you had medicine to at least dull the pain. This was going to be hell you thought as you placed the soggy stick in your mouth. Something to bite into, crucial to keep you from yelling too loud.

But you didn’t need to worry about that issue too much as darkness took over only a moment after he begun to tug on the broken arrow embedded in your shoulder. Of course, you didn’t catch the concern or the panic that overtook him when he saw you collapse into unconsciousness so easily. He didn’t waste a second longer after the arrow was removed from your shoulder to pick you up and carry you in his arms telling the Hobbits that they had to get a move on for your sake. With hushed complaints the group was off to Rivendell in the dead of night.

It must’ve been the pain overtaking the adrenaline that had subsided that made you fade out of unconsciousness. As your body stirred awake the sun rose in the sky before you. Strider only cradled you closer to his chest when he felt you squirming beneath him. A rather large sigh of relief escaped him as he looked down seeing you slowly blink your eyes back into reality.

“Did you enjoy your rest then?” Strider smiled most genuinely down to you for as much as he loved teasing you it sure made him happy to see you awake once more.

You cracked your own smile at his sarcastic words, “It was nice, thank you for inquiring.” You hummed squirming once more in his embrace. When he locked his hands around you it was only then that you realized he was carrying you like so and he had no intention of letting you out of his grasp.

He chucked seeing your startled expression. It was also new to him too and he really did not want to admit just how much he had enjoyed holding you close to him. It put his normally anxious heart at ease. He had long since found you beautiful. He knew he had loved you when he first heard you speak your mind to a superior all those years ago. For nobody, not a single man, had the courage to speak the way you did. And you had the skill to back it up. That was why he panicked seeing your injured silhouette in the forest. For if you were to go down he had no idea what he would do. You were so deeply embedded in his life he could not even begin to fathom a life without you in it.

He ran faster than he ever had before when Sam and Frodo found him foraging for plants. When they came in blabbering that you had been hit by an arrow he began sprinting in autopilot. It drove him mad feeling like it took longer to get to you. He was there in no longer than a minute to kill the ten or so orcs that were hunting you, the one he loved. He was a maniac when it came to protecting you. He hadn’t meant to yell so harshly at you but he was scared. Terrified of the thought of losing you, his person.

He noticed the pink beginning to return to your face and more relief flooded his overstressed system, “You are getting some color back.” He noticed as he held you closer, “That is a good sign. The poison must not be spreading.”

You let out a long yawn feeling the effects of it all starting to come over you once more, “That is good. It does not hurt as bad either. Just aches a bit.” Your eyes drooped as you tried to fight off the sleep that was overcoming you.

“Rest. Go to sleep, nigol.” He smiled down to you with nothing but love in those striking eyes. He’d been carrying you for hours already, what was another few anyway?

“Nigol.” You hummed remembering the times he called you that all the way back when you first had met him. He refused to tell you what it meant and by the time you finally met an elf you’d forgotten the nickname altogether, “What does it mean?” You inquired hoping he would indulge you this time as you were on the verge of unconsciousness.

He laughed, throwing his head back and all. You admired the way his dark hair framed his fair face as he looked back down at you. He was truly so handsome. It wasn’t fair he was placed in front of you like this and yet, was so unattainable, “I did not tell you fifty years ago, why would I tell you now?”

“I thought I would try.” You sighed, “Does it mean something bad? You only use it when I mess up.” You asked him once you concluded the worst. He often used that nickname early on when you two had been partnered up. It’s use seemed to fade as you had gotten more competent. Yet now when you had a bum shoulder rendering you useless he used it once more.

He shook his head quickly, “It is not bad. I can promise you that.” He eased your worried face quickly with his words.

“Well, I suppose I can accept that.” You didn’t want to push feeling oddly unlike yourself in his arms. Usually combative and wanting to pick a friendly fight you felt like doing anything but that. You just wanted to enjoy yourself in his embrace as you knew this moment would likely never occur again.

He knew you better than anybody else. He noticed how shy you were suddenly acting. Was it the nickname? Were you tired? Was the poison moving faster than he could? He looked down seeing you continue to fight sleep. Usually so powerful you looked helpless in his arms. His eyes softened as he realized how much trust you had to have in him to relax into him like so. You were always on guard, always ready. Frodo was alive because of that instinct. But now you were at his will and he felt more responsible for you than he had ever before.

“It’s Sindarin.” He admitted wanting to give you something more as you had given him exactly what he wanted, you.

Feeling your eyes getting heavier you replied with tiredness in your voice, “I had concluded that Strider. You did tell me you were raised by elves, remember?” Lazily, you smiled up to him laughing as best as your body would allow you.

“It is Sindarin for little one.” He finally admitted to you, “Or mouse.” He looked down at you nervously hoping you’d have a decent reaction to it.

“Mouse? Little one? I should be offended.” You grinned not taking offense in the slightest for you found it oddly adorable he had given you such a sweet nickname.

“Do not take offense.” He spoke quickly, “I did not mean it that way.”

“Relax, Strider.” You yawned once more feeling your head rest of his chest heavily. Sleep was coming on quick, “I am just teasing you. You are so easy to mess with.”

“Sleep now, little one.” He gave you another gentle squeeze letting you know he had you. It was alright. You could trust him as always. And trust him you did as you found yourself in a quick sleep right back in his arms.

“There you are.” Strider’s voice pulled you from the sleep that had overcome you on the road. When you blinked you were stunned to be laying in front of a fireplace in a rather grandeur room. You must have made it all the way to Rivendell which meant you had been out for days at this point.

“Are we in Rivendell?” You tried to sit up before his hands pushed you back down, gently, into the plush elven bed.

“You must lie still.” He ordered before answering your question, “Yes. You have been unconscious for nearly four days. Lord Elrond was unsure if you were to make it.” His eyes were laced with something you had hardly seen on the man in your many years of knowing him, fear. He looked scared, terrified. Yet almost relieved seeing you awake.

“Four days?” You swallowed back your surprise.

He gave you a quick not, “Almost, you even have Lord Elrond worried.”

You sighed, “I did not mean to do that.”

He moved closer, sitting on your bedside. Taking his chance he brushed your stray hair away from your face, “You always do that.”

You just looked up at him, “What?”

“It is just that you always care for others before yourself. As much as I love that about you. Think about yourself for once. Care for yourself. You are far too kind.” He spilled his thoughts to you for he was too tired. Too scared at the thought of losing you he was not going to hold back his tongue anymore for he knew he loved you. He wanted you. He couldn’t see you with anyone else but him.

You blinked back surprise at his outright confession. Sure, the two of you had danced around any feelings for quite literally years. But you would have none of that, as sweet as it was, “You did not say that when I slayed half an orc army with you.” You spoke with a hint of playfulness in your tone. It was your favorite game to play with the man.

He laughed a full hearty laugh. A laugh so pure, one you’d heard so rarely from the man. He only laughed like that when he was at peace. Happy. Comfortable and relaxed. A sight that you could really get used to.

“For that is true.” His eyes searched your for any sign of pain. Any sign that something was wrong. He could not quite believe you were finally awake and chatting with him like nothing had happened. Like you hadn’t been knocked out cold for that long. When Lord Elrond had started to get nervous. Strider was not dumb. He grew up with Elves and knew their tells. When an elf grew worried he knew things were not boding well.

You felt yourself shrinking under his gaze, “What? Is there something on my face? Because that would be embarrassing. I have been asleep for three days and you let something stay on my face for that long?” You rambled not quite sure what you were doing. He was making you nervous. Strider never made you nervous. But when he gave you that earnest look you completely lost yourself to him. How fickle your brain was behaving.

He bit back a laugh sensing your nerves, “No. There is nothing marking your face. I was simply admiring you was all.”

Was he trying to kill you? Your cheeks were sure to be a bright rosy, red for his second confession was bolder than his first, “Admiring me?”

“Indeed. I would not be the man that I am had you not been by me all these years. I thought I was going to lose you. But now that you are back I get to admire you.” He spoke with that soft voice he only used ever so often. It was fascinating to get to know an entirely different side of the man you thought you knew through and through.

“I deserve no such thing.” You laughed trying to shake off the seriousness of his gaze down on you. He did not find your statement the least bit humorous.

“While I do not agree I also do not wish to argue. How do you feel?” He changed the subject even though he might have enjoyed watching you squirm. Placing a cool hand on your forehead, he did not miss the small jump you had in response to his contact. Touches he had given you so often before had changed. Things had shifted between the two of you and for the first time in a long time he was excited. He had a purpose. His purpose.

You gulped back your argument and nodded in agreement, “I feel fine, will you let me sit up now or must I stare up all afternoon?” You quipped hoping your quick mouth would let him know just how fine you really felt.

Shaking his head, he held out a hand for your to take, “You may sit up, but take it slow.”

“I was shot by an arrow Strider. I did not get my legs cut off.” You took his hand letting him pull you up to sit next to him.

He rolled his eyes yet still held admiration in them, “That mouth will get you in trouble one day.” His eyes traced your face as you too just looked at him. It didn’t feel quite real that he could have admired you just as you him. Had you been blind?

You hummed in agreement not being able to take your eyes off his, “Not if you are there to protect me.”

It was he who broke the staring game going on between the two of you as he collected his thoughts, “Indeed, little one. There is nothing truer than that statement.” Gaining some courage, he took your hands in his giving them a gentle squeeze, “Please never scare me like that again for I cannot bear it.”

“I will try my hardest, as long as you promise to do the same.” You nodded towards him feeling bashful in front of the man you’d grown to love. The man you had only hoped to love you as he did. The man you never could have imagined felt the same. Yet here you were.

Giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, he simply nodded to you, “I promise, little one. I promise with my whole heart.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[bellaxgiornata]

The Devil at Your Window |4: One of the Good Ones|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.9k

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

Series Installment List & Summary

a/n: Just a smidge of angst in this one! And I've already got a rough draft written for the next part, too! This story has been stuck in my head... Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza

Your arm burned from the effort with which you were currently scrubbing your kitchen counter, working hard trying to remove a stubborn stain with the sponge in your hand. On the counter just behind you, your phone was playing music as you stress-cleaned. Truthfully you were too caught up in your thoughts as you'd been frantically jumping from one task to the next to have been paying much attention to what song was currently playing, though.

You'd already vigorously deep cleaned your bathroom, scrubbing your shower hard enough to make your fingers ache. Once you'd finished in there, you'd ended up in your bedroom, finally folding the laundry basket of clothes that had been sitting in the corner of your room all week. After that, you'd changed your bedsheets before bringing the dirty ones down to the laundry facility in your building to be washed. Upon returning to your apartment, you'd begun meticulously organizing your kitchen pantry before cleaning out the kitchen sink of dirty dishes. And then you'd landed on scrubbing your counters with every intention of cleaning off your stove top next.

You'd been cleaning like crazy after you'd come home from work tonight and finished dinner because you'd had a shitty day–though really it had been a shitty week. Everything had gone absolutely wrong at the office and you'd somehow managed to make a massive mistake on a big project the other day. Thankfully today you'd corrected the error, but your anxiety over the issue hadn't remotely disappeared. And of course, Eric, the most obnoxious and irritating co-worker at your workplace, had been at the top of his game of being an absolute asshole to you about the issue all week, too. You'd admittedly had far too many daydreams of throwing your coffee on him just to shut him up these past few days.

But as if that hadn't been enough, you'd found yourself becoming increasingly upset over the realization of your growing feelings for the Devil, who you hadn't actually seen since he'd appeared injured at your place just over a week ago. You were torn between believing his absence was either because he'd been recovering from his injury–which would also explain his absence in the news lately–or that he had zero interest in continuing whatever friendship you thought you'd both been developing. And because you'd gotten your period earlier today, you'd been hormonal all week. Which meant your brain had been telling you it was because of the latter reason.

But you didn't want to think about that. It was ridiculous to have a stupid crush on him. You didn't even know the man's name or what he looked like beneath the mask. You had no clue what he did for a living, if anything at all. And you'd only seen him three times now, it's not like you'd known him for months. It was quite likely he didn't feel the same despite the flirting he'd been doing. 

So that was what your brain continued to tell you this week whenever you got upset about his lack of appearances on your fire escape. That those visits hadn’t meant anything to him. You were just another person in the city he protected. His first visit had been accidental after all. And the second time was just to return the scarf he'd borrowed. The last time he had appeared had been because you'd been a convenient safe place for him to briefly stop and recover at when he'd been hurt, nothing more. 

Though trying to repeatedly rationalize that didn't make the ache in your chest disappear. It didn't stop you coming home every night from work hoping to have another surprise visit from the mysterious vigilante before you went to bed. And it certainly didn't stop you from shedding a few pathetic tears when he continued to remain absent each night. 

You'd begun to miss him. It was impossible to deny that now. And you'd worried about how he was doing with his injury, wondering if he really was alright. Which only had you wondering more about what he was capable of if he could meditate like that because–

“It's a bit early for spring cleaning, isn't it?”

Your hand abruptly paused mid-aggressive scrub of the stain that had long since been cleaned at the sound of the familiar and unexpected voice cutting through your thoughts. Eyes growing wide, you spun on your bare feet to find the Devil standing on the other side of your kitchen counter with a grin on his lips beneath that black mask.

“It's only February,” he teased. “Spring is still another few weeks away. Maybe show your counter a little mercy before you wear a hole in it.”

Hand gripping the soapy sponge tighter, you felt your heart nearly fly up into your throat in excitement. Because he'd come back . 

“You're here,” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he replied. He gestured a gloved hand back towards the window behind himself. “You left that unlocked, so I may have just invited myself inside since you didn't seem to respond to my knocking. I hope you don't mind.”

You shook your head quickly, still surprised to see he'd actually returned. It felt like someone had loosed a multitude of butterflies in your stomach at the sight of him standing there so casually in your apartment once again. It was something you'd missed all week.

“No, that's alright,” you told him, shaking your head. “I don't mind.”

“You should really keep it locked though,” he stated. “Literally anyone could just climb in here. That's not exactly safe.”

Still trying to shake off the surprise of his visit as you took a step forward, turning off your music, a nervous laugh slipped out of you. “I think you're the only one crazy enough to climb all the way up that rickety fire escape,” you replied.

You turned, heading over towards your kitchen sink in the hopes of busying yourself with washing your hands so he wouldn't see the embarrassing grin steadily growing on your face. 

“I think you might be surprised with what the criminals will do in this city,” he countered.

“Well that's…unsettling,” you muttered, turning off the faucet and drying your hands on the nearby kitchen towel. “With the way my week has been going though I suppose it would be my luck that someone probably would climb through my window. Someone other than you, I mean.”

You set the towel back on the hook near your sink, turning around only to find the Devil had stepped around the counter and into your kitchen. He was standing a few feet away, his head tilted curiously to the side. How the hell did he always manage to move so quietly?

“You're having a bad week?” he asked. “Is that why everything smells like lemon cleaner in here and why you were scrubbing your counter so hard you couldn’t hear me knocking on the window?”

Clasping your hands together in front of yourself, you fidgeted awkwardly with your fingers. Now that your hands weren't busy with an actual task you were feeling your anxious thoughts beginning to spiral again. Especially because it was only Thursday night and you still had to go into work tomorrow and deal with Eric and everyone else when all you desperately wanted to do was crawl into bed for the duration of the weekend and pretend this week never happened. 

“What's wrong, angel?” the Devil asked softly.

You glanced up at the sound of the name he’d called you just before he left your apartment last time, watching as he took another step towards you. You sniffled lightly, trying to ignore the confusing and conflicting feelings arising inside of you at the nickname. The smile disappeared from his lips, his mouth instead pulling a bit downwards at the corners. Swallowing hard, you waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Nothing, things are good,” you lied. “I'm fine.”

The frown visibly deepened on his face before he took another step closer. “Someone who's fine doesn't generally deep clean their place on a random Thursday evening,” he pointed out. “And it seems like you've been on the verge of tears for a bit now. What's going on?”

You swallowed hard, wondering how he could’ve possibly known that when he’d only just entered your apartment. Yet another one of his mysterious little powers, you figured.

“Nothing,” you answered. “Really, I’m good. I just got into a random cleaning frenzy. It happens.”

The Devil’s head canted further to the side, his lips thinning along his face. He shook his head slowly, taking another cautious step towards you.

“You’re not fine,” he replied. “And for the record, I know when someone is lying, angel.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around your chest and trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted nervously at that name again. Surely it was meant to be more of a joke than a term of endearment considering you always called him Devil.

“Another useful skill of yours?” you asked curiously. “Like your ability to heal?”

Briefly a smirk slid over his mouth, one you caught just before it disappeared. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously back at him.

“Something like that,” he answered. “So believe me when I say that I’m not buying the line that you’re okay. What happened?”

Eyes darting down, your nails began to pick at your sweatshirt nervously. The memory of your boss chewing you out at work the other day resurfaced in your mind, quickly followed by one of Eric’s heartless comments to you afterwards. The continual disappointment of an empty fire escape night after night before you went to bed also reared its head, tears starting to sting at your eyes at the memory of those lonely nights. Blinking rapidly, you tried to stop the tears from coming.

You did not want to cry in front of the Devil.

“Nothing,” you muttered, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s all stupid in comparison to what you’re usually dealing with anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

“Hey,” he murmured, closing the remaining distance between you and gently grabbing your shoulders, lowering his masked face into your line of sight. “It’s not a competition.”

His light, reassuring touch only had the tears welling up faster in your eyes. It had been so long since someone had touched you like that. With comfort and care. A touch that made you feel both safe and seen. And here he was doing it with such ease, like you deserved that sort of attention–and from him no less. 

It suddenly became all too much. A single tear slipped out of the corner of your eye as you gazed up at his face half-obscured by that mask, unable to blink it back before it made its way down your cheek. The Devil’s hands carefully began pulling you in towards himself barely a second later. Surprised at his response, your arms remained wrapped around yourself as his arms slowly encircled your shoulders.

He was hugging you. Comforting you.

Somehow that managed to open the floodgates to your emotions, the tears beginning to spill down your cheeks hot and wet in a continuous stream that you couldn't seem to control. Your hands gripped your sweatshirt tighter, unsure if you should hug him in return or not. Instead, you pressed your face into the thin fabric of his black shirt, attempting to hide how fast the tears were flowing from his sight.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were even crying at this point, either. Was it because of the shitty week you’d had? Because of the gentle touch and compassion coming from the masked vigilante, a touch that you hadn’t felt since you'd last been in a relationship? Was it because of the fact that him holding you like this only stirred up those confusing feelings further inside of you, making you wonder what this weird relationship with the Devil actually was? Or was it just because you were hormonal and on your period?

“I'm sorry,” you choked out.

“Don't apologize,” he replied instantly.

The smokey voice he always used had your fingers twisting tighter around your sweatshirt, your heart beating a little harder at the sound of it so soft beside your ear. You shifted, burying your face further against his chest. Though guilt quickly filled you as you cried. Because he shouldn't be comforting you, not for something so foolish. Not when there were people out there who actually needed him and all you'd had was a bad week, some out of control hormones, and a stupid crush.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. “Is there something I can do to help?”

You shook your head, begging the tears to stop falling. This was embarrassing. You didn't want him to see you like this, let alone be comforting you.

“No,” you whispered. 

You have better things to be doing with your time , you thought bitterly. I don't deserve the comfort.

Clenching your jaw, you took an abrupt step back from him. You raised an arm up, using the sleeve of your sweatshirt to aggressively wipe the dampness from your cheeks. Before you, the Devil stood with his arms still hovering in the air as if he was still holding you, seemingly confused about you withdrawing from his embrace so suddenly. There was a large wet spot from your tears soaking the front of his black shirt already.

“I'm sorry, that was embarrassing,” you muttered, still wiping at your eyes as the tears gradually slowed. “I know you don't want to be dealing with an emotional mess tonight. That's not what the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen does.”

“Who says it's not what I do?” he countered, his arms lowering back to his sides. “I'm here to help people who need it–and for the record,” he added, “crying does not make you an emotional mess. Trust me on that.”

“Well,” you began, sniffling a little, “my problems aren’t the type you can punch. And you can't exactly punch away my feelings. Or my hormones. So I think this is a little out of your usual wheelhouse.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, “but you've helped me plenty of times now. Is it wrong for me to want to return the favor?”

So that's why he was comforting you. A sort of quid pro quo. Tit for tat. An exchange of favors, not because he'd genuinely cared about what had happened to you this week and would have offered to help anyway, but because he felt like he owed you something in return. That's what he was saying, wasn’t it? 

“I don't help you because I want anything in return,” you muttered, turning around and wiping the sleeve of your sweatshirt across your eyes once again. Afterwards, you reached up into a nearby cabinet and grabbed a clean glass from out of it. “I help you because I worry about you out there. And because I think you're one of the good ones.”

You closed the cabinet door before focusing on the faucet in front of you, filling the glass with cool water. Sniffling softly, you felt the tears beginning to slow to a stop as you tried to collect yourself. You’d cry about your misplaced feelings later when he wasn’t here. Right now you just wanted to enjoy his company and not scare him off with your tears. And maybe make sure he was doing alright himself tonight.

Once the glass was full, you turned off the faucet and inhaled a trembling breath, attempting to steel your resolve. You were not going to cry anymore tonight. 

“For what it's worth,” the Devil said from behind you, “I think you're one of the good ones.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at his comment, your back still facing him. Now that sounded like a line.

“I’m serious,” he continued. “How many people would help a vigilante instead of turning him over to the police? And how many would just ignore him entirely? And here you are inviting me into your home multiple times now without question. Always offering whatever form of assistance you can when you certainly don't need to.”

Eyes dropping down to the full glass in your hands, you felt your heart flutter in your chest at his kind words. Clearing your throat, you tried to swallow the lump that had begun to form. “I think you vastly underestimate what you mean to the people in this city, Devil,” you whispered.

Gradually you turned back around, the glass of water clutched between both of your hands. His lips were once again pulled in a straight line across his face, his head faintly tilted to the side. 

“You're a symbol of hope to many in Hell’s Kitchen,” you said softly, extending the glass out towards him. “A sign that there’s still good in the world. That there are still people who care about helping those in need.”

You could see the muscles working in his cheeks, the corner of his lips twitching faintly. You wondered what expression he was making beneath the mask right now. Was he not aware of what he meant to this city?

“Here,” you said, holding the glass out further towards him. “Drink it. I’m sure you’re dehydrated.”

The Devil’s right hand flexed open and shut at his side for a moment, your eyes drawn to the movement. After a minute's hesitation you saw it raise, reaching out to carefully accept the glass of water from your own hand. He murmured a soft ‘thanks’ as he drew it up towards his lips. In silence you watched the bob of his throat as he drank almost half the glass immediately, a satisfied smile eventually landing on your face. 

“You hungry?” you asked, stepping around him and heading over to your fridge. “I have spaghetti leftover from dinner tonight. Unfortunately no garlic bread,” you grumbled, opening the door of your fridge. “Because my week was apparently so bad that I even forgot to grab garlic bread at the store.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” he assured you.

Half bent in front of your fridge, you glanced over your shoulder, shooting him a flat look. “Are you planning to go home and eat something before you go to sleep tonight?” you asked him. “From the fridge you have apparently only stocked with beer, eggs, and sometimes orange juice?”

He hung his head in defeat, his gaze behind the mask appearing to drop to the floor. It looked like he was fighting back a grin on his face.

“Well…no,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Right,” you said, focus returning to the contents of your fridge. “So do you eat spaghetti? Because I have plenty.”

“If you’re that determined to feed me, yes,” he answered. “I do.”

Reaching into your fridge, you pulled out the container of leftovers that you’d put away earlier this evening before you’d begun meticulously stress cleaning. You closed the door, bringing the container over to your counter and setting it down before searching for a clean bowl and a fork.

“So how’s your rib doing?” you asked as you worked. “Did your doctor friend tell you it was broken? Have you somehow meditated it back to normal already with that useful ‘skill’ of yours?”

The Devil chuckled good-naturedly behind you as you began scooping some pasta into a bowl for him. Internally you thought it strange that he found that somehow funny, though that warmth of pleasure filled you at once again still being able to make him laugh.

“She's a nurse, not a doctor, and that's hard to say,” he answered. “I’d need an x-ray to know if I had actually broken it, and I can’t exactly go to a hospital because they’d surely call the authorities on me. But either way, it’s feeling better than that night I was last here. Not completely healed with my ‘skill,’ but the pain is…tolerable.”

You stopped mid-scoop of some pasta, your head turning over your shoulder towards him. Quirking a brow at him, you shot him a quizzical look. 

“The pain is ‘tolerable’?” you asked him. “So you mean to tell me you’re still going around tonight scaling buildings and jumping off fire escapes with an injury that’s not even fully healed?”

The Devil shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, shooting you a charming smile. “Yeah,” he answered. “Something is almost always injured or hurting. But it's not like crime ever takes a night off. So usually neither do I.”

Sighing, you focused back on scooping pasta into the bowl for him. “I'm starting to worry about your sanity,” you half-joked. “You know, I've always wondered why you do what you do. I don't suppose you'd answer that truthfully, would you?”

Picking up the bowl, you stepped over towards your microwave and set it inside. Setting the timer to heat it up, you turned around and leant your back against the counter, crossing your arms over your chest as you eyed him expectantly. 

The Devil shook his head, a faint smile on his mouth. “No, not right now,” he answered. “But maybe someday I could answer that for you.”

Hugging your arms tighter around yourself, you tried to hide the thrill that shot through you at his answer. The prospect of him continuing to visit you was clearly layered in his response and you couldn't even begin to explain how that made you suddenly feel.

“Always so mysterious,” you muttered nervously, glancing down at your feet.

“Don't suppose you'd ever give me your name, would you?” he countered.

You grinned, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as the microwave hummed behind you. “I'll tell you mine when you tell me yours, Devil,” you replied. 

“So mysterious ,” he teased back, grinning. 

You tried to bite back the smile growing on your face, laughing softly. The grin only grew wider on his face and your cheeks began to heat at the sight. You could feel your heart beating a little faster as you watched him from across the kitchen, taking in the handsome shape of his mouth and feeling the nervous churning of your stomach beginning to increase at the comfortable silence that fell over you both.

Thankfully your microwave beeped a moment later, pulling you from the moment that surely would have only resulted in you further ogling him, wondering what he looked like beneath the mask. Turning around, you opened the microwave and removed the bowl of spaghetti. You set it back onto the counter, mixing it around with a fork to make sure the entire bowl had been thoroughly heated. Satisfied that it was warm, you picked up the bowl and carried it over to the Devil. 

“You can have a seat at the table if you want,” you offered, holding the bowl out to him.

You gestured your other hand to the small circular table just outside of your kitchen. The Devil accepted the bowl of pasta from you, looking somewhat over his shoulder where you'd gestured. 

“Thank you,” he replied. 

You watched as he twirled a handful of noodles onto his fork immediately, bringing it up to his mouth before he'd even began to make his way towards your table. It was obvious he was hungry with the way he'd shoveled the bite into his mouth–just like when he'd devoured that burrito–and that satisfied smile returned to your face. Even if you'd messed up a lot of things this week, at least you'd managed to do something helpful for him. And that felt good.

You'd been about to turn around and put away the container of leftovers still sitting out on your counter when you saw him suddenly freeze, his entire body tensing. Your own body froze as you watched him chew the bite of food so slowly, your stomach sinking to the floor.

“What?” you asked cautiously, feeling self-conscious and on the verge of tears again. Had you actually somehow messed this up, too? “Is it…not good? I mean I know I'm not the best cook or anything, but I thought I was decent at making spaghetti sauce. It's not that complicated.”

The Devil swallowed the bite of spaghetti, his body still stiff as he stood there. His hand had tightened around the fork in the bowl as he remained silent, which only had your nerves growing. The feeling of being a failure once again this week was suddenly bearing down heavily on you. Was there nothing you could do right this week?

“Look, if it doesn't taste any good you don't need to eat it,” you told him, taking a step closer and reaching for the bowl. “Apparently I just can't manage anything this week. Just one of those weeks I gu–”

“This tastes exactly like the spaghetti my dad used to make,” the Devil whispered in disbelief.

Your hand hovered in the air reaching out for the bowl, your mouth hanging open at what he'd told you. That certainly hadn't been the reaction you'd expected. 

“Wh–what?” you stammered out.

The Devil pointed at the bowl of pasta with the fork in his hand, something like amazement creeping into his voice as he focused on you. When he spoke again, you'd noticed that raspy, deep voice he always used had disappeared.

“The sauce,” he told you, his words gradually picking up speed as he spoke. “It tastes exactly like the spaghetti sauce my dad used to make when I was a kid. I–I haven't tasted anything quite so similar since he passed when I was young. The likeness is incredible.”

You could feel the heavy pounding of your heart in your chest at yet another little piece of the real man beneath the mask being revealed to you. Mouth opening and closing a few times, you quickly realized you didn't know how to respond. Was he going to run away on you now that he'd let another little personal detail slip? Especially considering it looked like he was also realizing what he'd just told you and was beginning to regret it.

“I'm–I'm sorry to hear about your father,” you managed out.

The Devil continued to stare at you over the bowl of spaghetti in his hands, his lips pressing together as his mouth began to twitch. It was as if he didn't quite know what to say himself, but the longer he remained quiet, his jaw grinding back and forth, the more fearful you became that he was going to bolt back out of your window for accidentally revealing more personal information about himself to you. 

Slowly you held up your hands in front of yourself like one might do to a scared animal, hoping not to scare him further. The Devil didn't move, but his jaw visibly tensed at the gesture. 

“Look, I'm not about to tell anyone that you come here sometimes,” you told him. “And I don't go digging around on the internet trying to find out who you really are with the vague information I have, mostly because I don't have that level of motivation, if I'm being honest.” You saw the corner of his lips twitch upwards at your comment and you cautiously lowered your hands back to your sides. “I just want to help. That's all,” you continued. “And personally I worry that if I scare you off, you'll end up out there starving and with kidney damage from constantly not drinking enough water while you're out parkouring around the city.”

“You're worried about my kidneys now?” he asked, amusement in his tone. 

You shrugged lamely, shooting him a small smile. “If I say yes will you sit down and eat that spaghetti and drink some more water?” you questioned back. “Instead of jumping out of my window like a terrified cat?”

Something like an amused snort came from him as he turned, making his way towards your little kitchen table. You relaxed when you realized he wasn't going to disappear on you.

“For the record,” the Devil told you, voice muffled around a large bite of spaghetti that he'd shoveled into his mouth, “I am not a stray cat.”

“Of course not,” you agreed, picking up the glass of water he'd already finished and set onto the counter. You brought it over to your sink and began to refill it for him. “Because a cat would know better than to keep running around and making a broken rib worse. And I'm not sure how partial they are to spaghetti,” you joked. 

At the bright sound of his laughter over the sound of the running faucet, you found yourself smiling. You'd certainly missed having him here, even if you knew you were going to miss him the moment he finished that bowl of spaghetti and jumped back over your fire escape. All you could really do was enjoy the next few minutes you had with him and hope that he returned another time. 

Though deep down you sort of found yourself hoping he was more like a stray cat than he let on, because at the very least, maybe the prospect of food and water would tempt him to appear again at your window sooner rather than later. 

And that thought was steadily giving you an idea.

[awakenedevildays]

Heyy I loved “naps and forgetfulness” and was wondering if you could maybe make a part 2??

「Annoying customers and Star Wars」 Stiles Stilinski x F!reader

I had the most annoying costumer ever at work the other day and I thought of using it as a sequel to this story, I hope you'll like it and thank you so much for requesting, dear, this was so fun to write! 🩷

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"oh! is that my boyfriend that actually remembered me?!" you ask as you walk out of your working place. Stiles, who's sitting on the drivers seat of his Jeep, looks up from his phone and looks at you with pursued lips and guilty eyes. 

"that's me." He laughs as he gets off his car to walk towards you. He is so pretty you can't help but feel a swarm of butterflies in your stomach when he's near enough to grab your cheeks and kiss you lovingly. His lips are on yours for a few seconds before he breaks the kiss with a content hum to grab your waist, "hey pretty, how was your shift?" his eyes, those big brown eyes of his, look at you with such love and adoration that your heart clenches and the tiredness of your four hours shift disappears.

"It was good, but a lady was really rude to me" you say as Stiles guides you towards the other side of the Jeep to open the door for you. 

His ears perks up at that, despite the fact that he feels bad when you have a bad shift, he loves to listen about all the dramas "mh? what happened?" He asks as he waits for you to get on the passenger seat before closing the door to jog back to the driver seat.

"oh you got me food from Burger King! thank you Sti'" you say after smelling the delicious smell of burgers in the car and you don't waste time to open the bag to eat right away.

"you're welcome baby, so what happened?" he asks after receiving a so deserved 'thank you' kiss from you.

"Well, first of all, in the busiest day for a restaurant, she didn't book a table and EXPECTED to have one right away!" You start after taking a bite from the hamburger, god, it's so good.

He scoffs "are you serious? that's just stupid, how could she expect for it to be empty on a Friday night?" he says as he starts the engine.

"Right?! so I told her that she and her son would have to wait for at least twenty minutes and she scoffed at me!" 

"Unbelievable, and what happened next?" he asks and opens his mouth when you bring a chip close to his mouth.

"When a table finally got freed up she didn't want it because it was too close to the toilets and she didn't want to eat with the door opening and closing repeatedly and people passing every two minutes." 

"and let me guess, after that you kindly told her to go fuck herself, right?"  he looks at you for a second before looking back at the road as you keep on eating. 

"I really wanted to! so I told her that we could've moved the table a bit away from the bathroom and she said it wasn't away enough" you keep on going and feed him another two french fries.

Stiles snorts at that "oh my God, she just wouldn't stop bitching, what a Karen". 

"and it isn't even over yet! I tried to give her another table that got freed up in that moment but guess why it wasn't good enough for her?" 

"the table cloth wasn't white enough?" he says as he rolls his eyes.

"it was too close to the opened window AND it hadn't been cleared yet and she didn't want to sit in a still unmade table, I mean- the people who were sitting there had just stood up, what did she want me to do?" you add as he stops at a red light and steals another chip.

"oh she's just ridiculous, you should've just kicked her out" he says and you grab his hand to play with it.

"I wish I could've, it took her 30 freaking minutes to choose what to eat because she and her son didnt do anything but looking at their phones and guess what? She wanted to eat the only dish that I told her wasn't available anymore tonight and she whined about it for MINUTES." 

"what the hell was wrong with her!?" 

"I don't know, it's like she came here to annoy me! I gave her so much attention that I had to ask Logan to cover the other tables I was serving until she was gone." You munch on your almost finished burger.

"I'm sorry baby, you did not deserve that witch." 

"I wanted to cry, really. And after they were done eating she didn't even leave a tip, I mean- didn't she see how whiny she was and how patient with her I was?!"  you ask while pointing at yourself as Stiles reluctantly moves his hand to use the gear stick.

"what a fucking karen, she's a bitch, I hope she... broke a nail or something" he says as he starts the car again when the light turns green.

"woah, you kiss your dad with that mouth?" you ask sarcastically at his attempts to be 'aggressive' or... whatever that was, he pinches your thigh lightly as response before stealing, again, some of your food... you don't mind though.

"hey! don't act like I couldn't be a bad boy if you wanted me to, I'm pretty badass" he avoids to look at you as he says it, he's so cute that you can't even imagine him as a 'bad boy'.

you snort at that "nah, I'm good with my sweet and cute boyfriend" you comb back his hair as he keeps his eyes on the road.

"yeah? you don't prefer a strong, masculine and very bad boy with a leather jacket and maybe a motorcycle?" he asks as you keep your hand in his hair, he's enjoying all the attentions so much that he could literally purr in content.

"I prefer cute, sarcastic nerds with Jeeps and obsession with star strek" you say as you put back the papers covering the finished burger with your free hand. 

"Star Wars, baby" he corrects you for the millionth time as he takes your hand from his head to bite it lightly as to scold you, after all, he already corrected you many, many times.

"yeah, yeah, the same thing" you answer dismissively and Stiles keeps your hand in his on his lap.

He rolls his eyes at your words "it's not the same thing, they're very different."

"I'm not gonna have this conversation with you... again." you answer before he can start his rambling about why the two shows are different (they're not).

"you're just not cultured enough to understand the differences, babe" he says while squeezing your hand. "Can't you see you're embarrassing yourself? you can't go around in this world without knowing the difference! if you could give Star Wars a chan-"

"We're not gonna watch Star Wars!" you state as you start eating the leftover chips.

"But why not!? we've watched Harry Potter a thousands times!" he looks at you with an expression of disbelief and disappointment.

"It's different! Harry Potter is actually entertaining and you love it too." You keep in a laugh.

"yeah, yeah, whatever, you like it because of Harry and your massive crush on him in the fifth and sixth movie" he says just to tease you a bit.

"I- how do you know that?! I never told you-" you're flabbergasted, you didn't think he would actually notice it.

"Oh please! those are the only two movies you watch without looking at the phone even once." Fuck, are you that obvious? His scolding eyes tells you that yes, to him,, at least, you're actually that obvious. 

"oh because you definitely don't find Hermione hot in the seventh movie?" you ask already knowing the answer and your boyfriend opens his mouth in shock.

"I can't believe you're calling me out like this" he replies with an embarrassed expression on his face that tells you that you're absolutely right. "but... but what about Darth Vader, baby, he's hot too!"

"who's Dart father? The cute one with curls and blue eyes?" 

"Vader, baby and yes, Hayden Christensen." he corrects you... again, he turns towards your house. 

"Oh yeah he is so handsome! but I won't watch Star Wars, end of story." 

He sighs and looks back at the road "I'm still gonna get you into Star Wars, I don't care if I have to play the 'I'm the man in this relationship' card"

"you would never use that card" you say as a matter of fact and Stiles pursues his lips, got him. 

"shut up, woman" he demands but mutters a small 'sorry' right after that makes you giggle lovingly at him. 

"So... if we're not gonna watch Star Wars nor Harry Potter what would you like to watch tonight?" you ask to change the subject as you finish the last fries.

He thinks about it for a second, he's not in the mood for a horror movie but he doesn't want to watch another of your rom-com movies either because he'd have to watch his every move to not fall asleep before them even getting to the good part, so he says "let's just watch The Office, okay? there are still some episodes left"

"'kay" you only say as you see your street coming into view.

"God, I'm craving a shower so badly right now" he groans as he parks the Jeep in front of your house, his whole body is still sore after lacrosse practice and he's in dire need of some relaxation time.

"don't tell me, I smell of every type of smell that can be present in a restaurant" you say while getting out of the Jeep.

Stiles chuckles at your words while he exits the car too and follows you to the front door "oh I don't know, you're kind of hot after your shifts at work" he says jokingly as you unlock the door.

"and they say romance is dead" you roll your eyes and let Stiles in after you.

"I know, right?"

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Harry Potter is underrated in his own saga, and I stand by that.

Hope you enjoyed, recommendations, suggestions and requests are always welcome and open! <3

Do not copy or repost.

[humdinky]

i just finished watching scavenger's reign yesterday, and let me tell y'all this is genuinely the best piece of sci-fi media i have seen in a long while, and it's insane how little i've seen this show being discussed online! it is probably the most unique and viscerally stunning series i’ve ever seen. the world that they have created is equal parts fascinating and terrifying, and every part of it feels fully realized. sci-fi is at its best when it lets go of nostalgia and explores the unknown, and SR gives me hope that real sci-fi can take root again, and be something beyond what came before it.

i will refrain from giving too much away in my discussion because this show works best the less you know going into it. the premise for this show is simple: crewmembers of a crashed freighter ship are left scattered across an alien planet. a good chunk of time has already passed by the time the show begins, and a few of the survivors have already established camps. however, things quickly spiral out of control as disaster wipes away their progress and forces each of them to move on. it's a harsh and unforgiving world that tests them each and every step of the way on their journey.

worldbuilding is where this show truly shines. it is no easy thing to design an entire ecosystem from scratch. it takes an insane amount of creativity and attention to detail to pull off what this show has. and my god did they fucking pull it off. living balloons floating through the air, large sea creatures that suck up their eggs when faced with danger, tendrilled plants that spawn clones of their prey to track them down - it is a frightening, surreal, and violent world, but harmonious in its own way. some creatures poison you, others clean off the poison. there are your typical type of predators that come at you with sharp fangs and giant pincers, but then there are predators that hunt via more insidious means: manipulating the memories of their prey to have them do their bidding, or hijacking their bodies from the inside. ultimately, the characters who fare best in this world are those who learn to adapt to it, and even sync with it.

SR also boasts a surprisingly well-crafted narrative. we are shown just enough of the world to keep us hooked, but it still feels like there is a lot left to be discovered. i also really enjoy the way the story is delivered to us. we follow the journeys of a few isolated groups whose paths gradually intersect. the characters are all fleshed out and three-dimensional - they were different enough to be unique and quirky, but never too different that it felt overboard. the way they react is exactly how humans in those circumstances would and should, the dialogue and voice acting were just superb. it felt so insanely real at times.

i really do hope that this show gets greenlit for a second season. this type of pure creative freedom is what we need right now. all in all, scavenger's reign is a gorgeous nightmare that you need to experience for yourself.

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 7

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N:Sorry for not posting this part earlier! I’ve been sick all week but I’m finally functioning like a human again 🤭 you’ll see some references to what really happened in season 3, I just adapted it to this story. Anyways hope you enjoy it! 🥰 let me know in the comments xx

Word count: 3,964

Tommy felt his anger raising, but he needed to calm down and think.

Think straight, have a clear mind.

Father Hughes was the most irritating person on earth. He didn’t want him to be involved in his charity project, that man was far from being someone respectable and he only make him waste his time. Deep down, Tommy knew he must have a dark past, something that he did wrong… he just needed to find what was his weakness.

It was still early, but still he needed a drink. Taking a glass and a decanter, he poured himself some.

“Thomas.” Polly called from the door.

“I need you to take care of everything today, gotta go.”

“Where?”

“I’ve a meeting, will probably be back later tonight.” He took a long swing of his drink. “Arranged a meeting with Vicente Changretta, Arthur and John will be there.”

They needed to fix the relationship with the Italians, after burning down the restaurant. He already had enough trouble in his hands.

“Fine.” She looked at him intensely. “You know… I was talking to Lizzie yesterday.”

Tommy hummed unbothered.

“Has Y/N told you if Lizzie keeps pissing her off?”

“No. Why?” He moved to his desk to take a few things.

Polly shuddered, perhaps she understood Lizzie wrong, she seemed to feel embarrassed and refused to say anything else to her.

“She’s jealous.” Polly ran her fingers through her hair. “She thought Y/N’s baby was yours.”

Tommy’s head snapped towards his aunt. His eyes had closed in disbelief. “What the fuck?”

“Look, I’m not judging her, and you shouldn’t either.” Polly gave him a knowing glance, se had talked to the secretary and she seemed to be having a change of heart.

“She told me she’s willing to do anything to get you to trust her once more.”

Pondering on Polly’s words, Tommy thought for a couple of seconds. “Anything eh? Alright… she’s going to help us clean the mess she made.”

He’d try to push Lizzie’s buttons just to make sure how far she could go. The sudden change could’ve a reason behind.

Now it was Polly’s turn to squint her eyes. “What are you thinking of?”

“She’s going to break up this absurd romance with Angel Changretta. Very peacefully.”

“Isn’t that too much to ask?” She asked cautiously.

“Explain to Lizzie how life works, no matter what Angel says, he’ll always remind her of her past. If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll always have her desk available here as a secretary, but if she keeps this going, I’m going to be her worst nightmare.” He warned right before storming out his office.

First he’d stop by to pay Ada a visit, then off to the meeting with the Russian royalty.

***

Y/N thanked the two men carrying the last piece of furniture into the office, they previously brought in the small desk and chairs, the bookshelf and a file cabinet.

In the corner of the room, she kept a box full of folders, sheets and other office supplies she would distribute among the classrooms. Most of her days have been busy organizing the storage and after a while it seemed to be presentable.

“Miss Y/N Y/LN?” The gardener called, getting her attention. “Your presence is required outside.”

“Oh! Sure.”

The Shelby Institute might open its doors any moment now, she thought as she strolled through the long hall, her shoes clacked against the floor, the daily walks around the institute made her keep in a good shape, because her belly was becoming more prominent day by day, of course she got out of breath anyways.

“We just need you to check if it’s the right color.” Paul asked pointing at the wall.

Tommy made sure to hire Small Heath people, purchasing all the material from local and small businesses, he felt this urge to help as much as possible because he couldn’t stop thinking given different circumstances, it would be him instead of them struggling with money, not having enough in their pockets to feed their family.

“This looks amazing, thank you for all the hard work you’re doing.” Y/N praised.

It wasn’t her place to supervise, but Tommy officially let her decide everything that was needed; from the color, decoration, even the personnel. He just kept signing cheques.

“Am I still on time to enroll my children? Could you ask Mr. Shelby, Miss Y/LN?”

“Yes of course you can! Bring me the papers tomorrow morning and the authorization.”

It was Tommy’s wish, to help as much people as possible.

The man gave her an embarrassed glance. “I don’t want them to be like me, I want them to have an education.” He added with melancholy.

“There’s nothing wrong to work in construction Billy,” Y/N encouraged. “But it’s admirable that you want them to be better.”

“That wouldn’t be possible without Mr. Shelby’s generosity.”

Y/N smiled at him but before she could step inside the building again, she noticed a car parking behind. Squinting her eyes because of the sun, she could barely tell who was that.

“Is this the Institution that runs that gang leader?” The man asked, judging by his attire he was a priest, but there was some off about him that said otherwise.

An uneasy feeling made Y/N take a step back, she covered her bump with the folders in her hands in a protective motion.

“Who’s asking?”

Tommy would be the last person on earth to have something to do with a priest.

The man looked her up and down, giving her a nasty and dirty stare.

“Tell him I’ll supervise this place, once it’s open.”

When he left, his vehicle made a cloud of dust. He didn’t ask politely, no, he pretended to be in charge of the charity.

Y/N walked inside the Institute again, making a mental note to add a room for the children to read, and they might need a fountain in the patio. She chuckled to herself, realizing she started to sound like Tommy.

No long after honking loudly, Tommy announced his presence, Y/N saw him behind the window as he was strolling towards her.

“Pick up your stuff, we’re going.” He announced.

“Where?”

“Somewhere, don’t ask.”

Y/N frowned. “I’ve to ask, it’s going to be midday, there’s things that need to be done.”

Tommy stepped into her office, looking for her coat and handbag.

“Yeah I pay you a ridiculous amount of money it’s about time you hire an assistant.” He said with a wink.

“An assistant of an assistant. That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.” She added, Tommy noticed she crossed her arms, not pleased by his interruption, she was always doing what she had to do and don’t you dare to move something from her things-to-do-list.

“It’s something good, trust me.”

“Can I ask where are we going?” Y/N asked enjoying the wind in her face.

“No.”

“What’s with all this secrecy?”

“If I tell you, you’re going to tell me no.”

“Well, you better include food because the baby is getting hungry.” Y/N smiled at her bump, while her hands caressed in a circle motion. Day by day she was getting fond of her baby.

“Oh I was counting you’d say that, lately you’re demanding more and more food.” He added in a light mood.

“Polly says I need to eat for two.” Y/N defended.

Tommy chuckled and in a blink, he was gone. He literally stormed into the library.

The little information she managed to get was that now she was reading out loud for Tommy a book about Russians that ran away from the revolution and opted to live exiled and from the Crown’s charity. Tommy assured her that way was practical.

Parking later after in front of a couple of shops, but she still knew so little about what was behind Tommy’s requests.

“I’ve a meeting around, it should be quick,” he explained helping Y/N out of the car, “but I thought it might be good if you start searching for some baby furniture, eh?”

“Tommy…” She covered her mouth with her hand.

“And don’t even start saying you don’t have money, I promised your grandma to look after the two of you, and that includes the things the baby will need.” Tommy used her shocked state to practically drag her inside the store, wining the argument way before it could start. “Hello, we would like to check out a moses, a rocking chair, a drawer…”

Y/N stared at him silently, Tommy thought of everything and even though his generosity wasn’t a surprise, it still came out of the blue, catching her off guard.

“Would you like us to open an account?” Asked the perplexed sales woman.

“Yes,” Tommy answered eyeing a catalog. “Everything she wants, a lamp, the carpet, the sheets… just put it into my account.” He handled a card with his company name and address. “Pick you up in about an hour?”

Y/N nodded, still trying to process everything.

“Leave something for the rest of the costumers ey!” Tommy shouted from the door before disappearing.

The woman started swooning immediately. “I hope the baby will get his eyes.” The woman admitted with a blush.

Y/N opened her mouth to correct her and tell her that Tommy wasn’t the father, but she closed it instead, remembering the advise her grandmother shared with her; don’t explain your situation to people you don’t know, let them believe their assumptions even if it’s incorrect. It will save you of uncomfortable explanations.

So Y/N gave the sales woman an awkward smile and followed her to the back of the store, this moment would arrive sooner or later and she was already here.

“We can make any piece you want in a variety of colors, there’s a trunk in the corner that goes well with this dresser…”

“Let me bring the fabric catalog for the carpets.” Added another woman, they obviously wanted to make a juicy sale.

Y/N felt like she was walking on a cloud, the smile on her face couldn’t get bigger. And now, she was the one swooning over the furniture, her imagination taking her to unknown places with images of her rocking her baby to sleep, or taking a look through the canopy at a small bundle of joy.

An excited gasp escaped her lips when she landed her eyes on a crib mobile. Her heart did this flip inside her chest and she could hardly hide her emotions.

“Should we add it?” The expert eye of the sales woman noticed her excitement. “Your baby will be fascinated and spend hours staring at it.”

The mobile had a handmade star and a sheep, a fluffy cloud and a small sun. It was adorable, she couldn’t wait for her baby to be born to use everything.

Y/N was allowed to sit on the rocking chairs to see which one felt more comfortable and the women showed her a few combinations to create a whole set of dresser, a small wardrobe, a bedside table and also the different colors they had to offer. The more she looked, the more confused she felt because everything was beautiful! She had never had the chance to purchase furniture, since her house was filled with her grandma’s possessions.

A fond memory of her grandmother knitting a blanket for one of her sisters filled her mind, her parents didn’t have enough money to buy fancy furniture, so they used a basket as a crib, she was just a girl but she remembered it clearly.

Both women shared endless recommendations for her baby arrival, and Y/N felt extremely grateful and was willing to take every little thing that could be helpful.

As she flicked another page of the catalog, she wondered how long would it take Tommy to pick her up, then her thoughts wandered towards her sister Lee-Anne, the last time she saw her, it was the day her father hit her. They couldn’t meet because their parents where so strict now, after what happened, they were trying to move under the radar according to her grandmother. There were so many things she wanted to tell Lee-Anne, firstly assure her that she was alright, she didn’t need to worry, then when the time is right, she would explain everything to her, so the younger girl wouldn’t make the same mistake as her.

Not that she thought her baby was a mistake, no. Those are two separate things. But the circumstances it’s what was wrong, she was aware that not all women had a Tommy Shelby around the corner to selflessly take care of everything.

If only she knew then, she’d do it differently.

“Y/N?” A gentle voice called for her, something squeezed her arm slightly.

Her eyes fluttered open and Y/N looked around confused.

“You fell asleep.” Tommy pointed out.

“It happens all the time.” The sales woman gave her a small glance. “We didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Goodness.” Y/N felt embarrassed and mortified, she felt tired.

“So, I think you found the perfect rocking chair then.” Tommy raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“We’ll have everything delivered in a couple of weeks.” Her smile couldn’t get bigger.

Thanking them, Tommy and Y/N stepped outside the boutique, she wanted to stretch her legs so bad.

“How did your meeting go?”

“Boring.”

He always had just a few words to say. But his eyes, said everything that was crossing his mind.

“Did you get to drink vodka and do the Russian dance?” Y/N teased.

Tommy scoffed at her sense of humor.

“He’s a liar, a buffer. He’s just a filthy lucky bastard with the right connections.”

He sighed loudly, but at least Tommy was sharing something with her. In that case it would be so easy for him to make that man show his true colors.

As he started the engine, Y/N started telling him of all the adorable things they showed her at the store, noticing the way her eyes were glowing. And he obviously preferred that kind of news instead of the one Polly was about to share.

“I’ll wait here by the fireplace.” Y/N announced, not wanting to get in the middle of the argument.

Sitting in one of the couches, she leaned her head back, rolling her feet meanwhile a few steps away, the Shelby family were discussing over whatever John had made.

“If you apologize once, you do it again and again…” Y/N heard Tommy say as she was drifting away to sleep. But she was far too gone and tired.

Feeling drained after all the things he got busy with, Tommy couldn’t wait to be home.

“You can stay over so you don’t have to drive back.” He proposed to his brother Finn, who would be driving.

But as Tommy stepped into the entry, he stopped abruptly when his eyes landed on Y/N. She was peacefully sleeping on the couch, the flames of the fireplace casting shadows over her features while one of her hands rested under her belly.

He didn’t have the heart to wake her up.

“Bring the car around.” He whispered Finn, trying to concede Y/N a few more minutes before starting the road back home.

Taking off his coat, he slid it over her frame to cover her from the cold. Tommy tried to call her in a low voice, but she only adjusted her shoulder as answer. Y/N should probably take things easier, but she was adamant to finish the charity project, she was pouring every fiber of her soul into it and wanted to make sure every single detail was perfect.

“Y/N… let’s go.” Tommy tried again softly.

Fluttering her eyes, she slowly opened them squinting in confusion by feeling Tommy touching her shoulder.

“C’mon let me help you.”

“Hmm.” She hummed barely cooperating.

She was beyond sleepy by the time they reached the car, settled taking the back seat by herself, she heard the Shelby brothers talking something about an Italian pub and a fight that would eventually happen. Tommy mentioned something about their fragile ego and sending flowers to a hospital, but Y/N couldn’t be sure because maybe it was part of her dream.

She moved across the room, smashing the fresh berries for the pie she was baking, the lovely smell feeling the small kitchen, it was a sunny day and she could hear the birds chirping, when suddenly a baby cry came to her attention. Y/N rushed then to get pick up her baby who was demanding her presence.

“It’s just fine, are you hungry?” She cooed to settle the lovely bundle wrapped in a blanket.

“How’s my ray of sunshine?” Asked her grandmother from behind, reaching over to caress the baby’s face.

“Woke up hungry.”

“You feed the baby while I finish the pie.”

When the car took a turn Y/N’s bumped something, she woke up disoriented.

“Finally I was tired of you snoring.” Tommy teased taking at look over his shoulder.

“Oh my God I don’t snore!”

“Loud and clear.” Tommy assured her. “Like a truck driver.”

Y/N gave Tommy a surprised and embarrassed look, awkwardly she tried to fix her hair since it was out of place.

Finn rushed upstairs while Mary greeted them by the door.

“Something important came up?” Tommy asked the maid.

“Just a few letters.” She gave him a nod.

“Oh, and maybe a couple of responses to the charity invitation.” Y/N wondered out loud.

“All correspondence arrived under Mr. Shelby’s name.” The maid explained, making a bit obvious that she wasn’t very fond of Y/N.

Y/N looked between Tommy and Mary, waiting.

“Go on, go check the mail.” He told her softly.

“Mr. Shelby.” Mary tried to get his attention. “The mailman thinks Miss Y/LN is Mrs. Shelby, he asked me if Mrs. Shelby had anymore invites to send off.” The maid voiced with concern.

Tommy noticed the offended tone in her voice.

“Let him think whatever he wants, Mary.” Tommy shuddered, not thinking it was important. “As long as he takes the mail.”

“But…” she tried again, then closed her mouth when Tommy gave her the look.

“That’s all, thank you Mary.” Tommy dismissed her just as Y/N entered the reading room skipping happily.

“Guess!”

Sitting, Tommy groaned. “Guess what?”

“He said yes!” Y/N explained excitedly.

“Who?” He chuckled at her happiness.

“He leader of the Birmingham City Council is going to attend the dinner.” Y/N showed him the letter back. “Everyone has said yes.”

Tommy dragged his eyes from the piece of paper, towards Y/N.

“Ah.” Suddenly she got the energy of a kid, it was the nap during the car ride did wonders to her.

“I keep changing the menu, do you think we should offer something else?” Y/N kept explaining how she needed to send a Thank you note back to the people who had confirmed their attendance.

The charity was clearly an excellent job for her. Keeping her busy with something good whilst helping people in need and he was glad to have someone he could trust to take care of that.

“You need to remember to take this slowly, write off those notes tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.” He suggested.

“But Tommy, these things can’t wait, it takes days for the letters to be delivered and-”

“Very well then, why don’t you use the typewriter I gave you.” He cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

“Tom!” She chuckled. “You don’t write letters of a social occasion on a typewriter.” Y/N explained him with a smile.

“Oh, forgive me.” He raised his eyebrows.

She then went on to show him another paper. “I’ve the drawings of what they plan to do with the grounds of the institute. There’ll be an area for the children to play. Look.” He hummed in response. “And the Birmingham Charity Commission have agreed to set aside their three rotten floorboards upstairs and grant us the license within a month.”

She finally took a deep breath after managing to explain him all in record time. There was a soft smile playing on his lips and she found tenderness in his eyes.

“You’re not listening to me.” Y/N sentenced.

Tommy leaned forwards. “Yes I am. I am.”

“You think I’m becoming obsessed?” Y/N stopped abruptly.

A chuckle escaped Tommy’s lips. “No, as a matter of fact, I love the passion you’ve put into this project.”

“This wouldn’t be possible without you.” Y/N expressed honestly.

Tommy gave Y/N a long look, studying her features, until he finally spoke.

“I’ve something for you.” Y/N frowned confused. “I know you’ll say it’s a bit too much, but still.”

“What did you get?” She eyed him suspiciously.

“Close your eyes.” Tommy encouraged.

“Tom.”

He fixed his eyes on her, not taking a no for as answer. So she gave in, turned around and closed her eyes.

Leaning back, Tommy got something out of his pocket, holding the chain between both hands, he presented Y/N the present.

Y/N felt lost for words when she saw the necklace. “What’s this?”

“A sapphire.” He explained calmly.

The cold stone sent a shiver down her spine when it made contact with her skin. It felt heavy and strange to have a stone that bug hanging from her neck.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“A simple thank you could work.” He winked. “And before you even start, you can either wear it or keep it in the box it’s your choice.”

Y/N was still trying to process the overpriced present, never in a million years she imagined to own something like that piece of expensive jewelry.

“This is insane, but thank you.” She chuckled nervously. “Where am I even supposed to wear something like this? The charity event?”

“You can wear it to church if you want, it’s yours Y/N.”

“Goodness.” She looked down at her chest and touched the cold gemstone. “You really look for any excuse to show off your wealth, damned bastard.”

Tommy laughed loudly. “You got me.”

“I wanted to ask you to be my baby’s godfather… but you’re going to spoil the poor child.”

“Oh I think I earned that right, so you better keep considering me.”

She slapped his arm playfully, earning another laugh from him. Tommy pulled her by the arm but the sharp move caught her off guard and made her loose her balance, landing on his chest. His arms came around her waist instantly in a protective motion, and their laughs subsided as soon as they realized how close they were to each other’s faces.

Something they both didn’t know how to name ignited in that moment, suddenly her warm hands felt like burning through the layers of his clothes, his deep blue sparkled in a way she had never seen before.

Struggling to form a coherent thought, Y/N used his chest to support her arms and move back. Tommy cleared his throat just as he was trying to clear his mind.

“Sorry… I stumbled.” She tried to smooth her clothes.

“Yeah.” He noticed the blush on her cheeks.

“Better go to get s-some rest.” The words rushed out of her lips. “Have a good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He replied more to himself, watching her leave the room.

Taking the remains of his drink in a swing, Tommy thought how close they were of crossing a line that would change everything.

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[artificial-transmutations]

I'm the ugliest nerd in the world and I have nobody. I wish I was a man with dark brown eyes, nice muscles and everything that makes a himbo... and every nerd I kiss becomes a man like only an Arabian fairy tale could tell. He would only want me. Only I could keep his muscular body up with kisses and fucks.

Can you grant me this one Wish?

An Arabian fairy tale

Once upon a time, there was a nerd called Gregor. He lived his life in a big city and every day, he was miserable. Not only was he gay and lonely, no, the little nerd was also ugly. He wasn't just ugly, no, he was the ugliest nerd there was in the whole country.

Every day he wished he could find a lover and live happily ever after, but every day, he was reminded of his status as a lonely nerd. He tried online-dating, but due to his exterior, nobody seemed to want him.

Gregor was a shy, awkward guy who didn't get many chances to talk to strangers. In his free time, he enjoyed writing fantasy stories, a hobby that didn't bring him too many friends, either. It was frustrating, too. In his stories, the hero always managed to find a true love. He wasn't alone, no, he had someone at his side.

In his real life, however, Gregor didn't have such luck. The best thing that happened to him in a while was meeting another nerd online. There wasn't going to be anything romantic between them. As fate would have it, the other nerd, called Evan was also gay and lived not too far away, but Evan had made it pretty clear early on that Gregor just wasn't his type. Instead, he rooted for manly men, with a different ethnic background. Evan and Gregor spent a long lonely night in voice chat together, discussing their preferences. Evan apparently longed for the firm touch of a strong man with Arabic background.

Meanwhile, Gregor didn't dare say what he wished for. What was the use, anyway? There was no way it was going to happen. No one wanted to be with a weak, ugly nerd like him. To be honest, he didn't actually really know himself. In his thoughts, a partner was something so abstract, so far away that he hadn't even thought about how such a person would look like.

Evan's fantasy wasn't bad, though. After their talk, Gregor lay awake in his bed and imagined strong, middle-eastern men, along with Evan. Perhaps he had developed a slight crush on the other nerd. Finally, he drifted off to sleep, wishing that he and Evan could be together.

When Gregor awoke the next morning, he felt strangely energetic and in a pretty good mood. Thinking nothing of it, he quickly got dressed and thought about what to do today. He didn't have any work to do and would usually have spent the day indoors, writing one of his stories. However, after the refreshing talk yesterday, that didn't feel all too appealing. Instead, he had an idea: He knew where Evan lived and worked. Perhaps he should walk over to that other part of the city, and they could have a coffee. Not as a date, of course - but more as a continuation of last night's talk.

Gregor didn't have time to waste and left the house. As he stepped into the sun, the first thing he noticed was how bright the world suddenly appeared. He didn't think much of it, but a few moments later, the second strange thing happened: People were looking at him!

Now, Gregor was of course used to people looking after him - he was really ugly, after all! But today, it was different. The gazes that lingered on him didn't seem to be hostile or disgusted. They seemed curious.

Perhaps his shirt had a hole in it, Gregor thought. He checked himself, but no, the shirt was fine.

As he walked, the attention he drew increased steadily. Was there something on his face perhaps? Or his arms?

As he checked his arms, Gregor was amazed by what he saw: His milky-white skin that usually had a sickly tone to it was entirely different today: instead of the pale and blotchy skin, he now had a healthy and firm complexion. The muscles in his arms, which he usually thought of as scrawny and flabby were now clearly visible.

He checked the other arm, and it was the same. What was going on? Also, his vision was getting blurry. When he took off his glasses to clean them, however, his vision cleared up instantly. It was as if his short-sightedness was just gone!

As Gregor kept walking, the changes became more apparent: His legs, which had always been thin and small, were now visibly muscular. His stomach, which had always been a little fat, was now a firm six-pack. His clothes, which had been a bit baggy before, were getting tighter and tighter as both his height and his shoulder width increased more and more.

His hair, which had always been a dark brown, was getting even darker, and a strong stubble covered his chin. His skin, which had been the same milky white tone, was getting a darker, more exotic tan.

Gregor had no idea what was going on, and he was a little scared. But the more his body changed, the better he felt about it. He wasn't an ugly nerd anymore. He was not yet sure what he was going to become, but it was surely better than what he had been.

Meanwhile, his clothes were getting increasingly tight, and he felt like taking them off. That was not something he would ever do in public, but his urges were stronger than his shyness. With a quick movement, he took off his shirt and ripped his pants open. To his surprise, below the tight jeans, a pair of silk shorts in a shiny royal blue had formed instead of his slip, which covered his privates. However, even though he wasn't naked, the ample bulge that stretched the silky fabric left little to imagination: a large and thick manhood had formed between his legs, which left a clearly visible dick print, along with the thinly veiled big orbs of balls he now had.

By now, Gregor's appearance was attracting a lot of attention, as his body kept growing more and more, becoming larger and more impressive by the second. He wasn't even "lean" or "fit" anymore. The way his body expanded, he definitely qualified as "muscular" by now, perhaps even "bulky". His shoulders were wide and strong, and his back had filled out so much that his neck had almost disappeared entirely. His biceps and triceps were both at least the size of his head and were covered in a fine, dark fuzz. The rest of his body had also become much hairier: His chest was covered in a generous carpet of dark hairs and a thick bush of pubes was pushing out against the silky shorts.

People had stopped and stared, and even a few had started to snap pictures or take videos with their phones. Gregor was enjoying the attention. His facial structure reformed into something much more manly. His new Arabic heritage became clearly visible on his face. His nose, his eyes, and his jawline changed and became broader, more prominent. His eyes became deep and dark, and his bushy eyebrows made him appear quite serious and manly.

A superior grin appeared on his face that wouldn't go away anymore. Gregor knew he had become a walking wet dream of Arabic hunkness - especially for Evan. He couldn't wait to surprise him like that.

Even though his identity hadn't changed much, Gregor didn't feel like calling himself Gregor anymore. Ghalib. That was a far more fitting name for his impressive Arabic stature. It meant 'victor' or 'conqueror' - and Ghalib felt exactly like that.

Ghalib wasn't even sweating when he arrived at Evans place a short jog later. He rang the bell, and when the little nerd in front of him opened, he didn't waste any time: Ghalib pulled Evan into a tight and sensual kiss, invading the other man's mouth with determined force. Evan moaned in his mouth and his legs gave in.

Ghalib held the small nerd up and carried him inside the flat, kicking the door shut behind him. The rest of their clothes soon littered the floor as the two men kissed passionately. However, as they were making out, Evan, too, began to change. It was almost like watching his own changes in fast forward: The hair on his head receded into a shorter style and was replaced by a thick fuzz that grew on his chest and the rest of his body. Evan's face morphed into a masculine and rugged appearance. His skinny, pale arms and legs grew more and more muscles, until they looked like they were sculpted out of marble. His skin darkened and an Arabic ethnicity appeared by it.

Finally, the smaller man's cock expanded and swelled up. Within a few seconds, it reached almost the size of Ghalib's.

As they continued kissing, the two men, now equally hung and ripped, felt up each other's bodies. Ghalib had no idea why this was happening, or what had brought on these changes, but he didn't care. All he knew - or was pretty sure about - was that it didn't have to stop with Evan.

As the other hunk went down on him, Ghalib made a decision. Evan and he would share their gift, turning more and more nerds into a true harem of sexy Arabs!