#and then is gradually crushed by the realization that she did

[kareenvorbarra]

did I tear up a little while listening to the last half hour or so of the Thick as Thieves audiobook? maybe!!! so what if I did????

[oatmilk-vampire]

Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.

He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.

His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.

So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.

It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.

The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.

So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.

He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.

He learned braille.

Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?

So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.

As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.

⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑

Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.

Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.

"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.

The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.

He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.

"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"

But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.

Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.

"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.

Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.

"Can't hear too good."

His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.

Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.

He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.

He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.

Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?

Steve furrows his brows.

I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?

Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.

The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.

Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!

Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.

What did you say? I'd like to know :)

Steve worries his bottom lip.

Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.

I thought you'd never ask, Steve.

[mirohlayo]

YOU STOLE IT

( what happens when lando reunites with the girl who stole his first kiss ? )

warning : a bit of jealousy, fluff, lot of fluff

note : i love this okay. i won't write a part 2 so no requests please !!

word count : 4.9k

Lando hasn't always been very lucky in love. While he separated from a failed romantic relationship, he now finds himself alone, surrounded by his friends who are experiencing their perfect love, alongside their soulmates.

This doesn't bother him that much, since he himself admitted preferring to concentrate on his sporting career and thus become one of the best F1 drivers. No girlfriend yet.

But when he has to endure all day long the sweet words that other drivers address to their lovers, when he himself can feel love in the air, it becomes difficult not to think about starting a new chapter, this time here happy and healthy. A chapter that will fill him with happiness, as he has never been before.

Is this decision of not having enough time to find a girlfriend in order to concentrate on sport actually an excuse to hide the pain and despair that is gradually beginning to nestle in his heart?

He tries as best he can to reassure himself, to convince himself that he doesn't need this feeling of being completely in love and devoted to a girl. But when he continues to be the third wheel among the couples his friends form, he comes to desire a relationship more than anything else.

And every time, he can't help but think of this girl. This pretty girl he met during his summer vacation when he was 16. She was divinely beautiful, her shy but bubbly personality made Lando's heart capsize in a unique way, his whole being was alarmed just by hearing her name.

They both had a wonderful vacation, just the two of them together. During these two summer months, they did not let go of each other, spending every day alongside each other. They had become so close and complicit that they proclaimed themselves best friends from their first meeting during a kart race where Lando was racing for his life.

And since that day, they both developed deep feelings for each other. At first it was innocent. And it still is, in fact. They just thought it was a deep friendly connection, that they were just friendly soulmates. That those little stolen smiles and tactile touches were just childish, and just affectionate.

But it turned out that his feelings were ultimately more than that. More than just a friendly relationship. Lando found himself falling in love with you so hard, so passionately that he regretted not asking for your number when you two suddenly said goodbye.

You were his first love. And you still are. He thought that with time, you would eventually slip out of his head, that he would eventually forget you and move on, that it was just a big embarrassing crush from his youth but that he wouldn't think about it anymore growing up.

But that is absolutely not the case. He hasn't stopped thinking about you for 8 years. Every day, even before going to sleep, the only person he thinks about is you, that little girl he was madly in love with before.

He knows it, he maybe denies it a little, but deep down he realizes that he still has feelings for you. Perhaps less intense, less ardent, but there is no doubt that his romantic feelings will double in strength if he meets you again one day.

Of course, the old relationships, flirts, that he had before were sincere and true. He liked these few girls, that he was even happy in his last relationship. But for all that, it was by stopping this relationship and these flirts that he realized that everything brought him back to you. No matter what girl he meets, the only one who will forever remain deeply anchored in his heart is you.

He knows now that you two were more than friendly soulmates. Well, at least from his point of view. He was absolutely unsure about your feelings, which is why during these summer vacations, he preferred not to tell you anything for fear of destroying such a pure and important friendship in his eyes.

But again, he finds himself thinking about you, about how everything would be different with you. It was by going through all these different relationships with girls that he understood that he had never felt anything as powerful as with you. All these girls don't give him even a quarter of what he felt for you back then. So, how will this feeling change when he has the opportunity to meet you again?

The warm air of Saudi Arabia blows gently through the driver's curly hair. Free practice will begin in a few hours now, so Lando is using this time cooped up in the garage, surrounded by his teammate and his racing team, to discuss about the car.

“Hello Oscar!!” Lando's teammate is welcomed by his girlfriend, Lily, who smiles lovingly at him. The interview with the team is over, and she took the opportunity to spend some time with her boyfriend Oscar. The second driver comes to wrap his arms around his lover, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lando scoffs and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Can you do this in private please? In addition to be the third wheel, I have nausea coming on.”

Oscar mocks his teammate, still holding Lily tightly in his arms. “Mate, it’s not my fault you’re a failure in love.” The Brit stops himself from hitting him, before putting on his McLaren cap. “Need I remind you that I’ve been in a relationship before?” He says to him with a completely proud look. “Couple who ended up in a failure, by the way.” He remarks, pointing at him.

“I really loved her…” The curly pauses. “It’s just that there is someone who- no, nothing, forget what I've said” He grumbles and withdraws into himself. Oscar frowns, Lily now concerned about the situation. “What?” She questions him gently.

Lando refuses to face this situation and simply shrugs his shoulders and ends up running away to join Zack further away. He can't say more, he can't talk about this girl who obsesses him. The two lovers look at each other confused by the British's behavior.

Zack smiled as he saw Lando walking towards him. “Are you already tired of feeling love in the air?” He says in order to tease him, which works. “Stop with that, I don’t care if I’m in a relationship or not.” What a lie. Zack knows his driver is lying, but he doesn't bother him more than that, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“So, how are things going at Ferrari?” Lando asks to quickly change the subject, not wanting to face another charade about his catastrophic dating situation. The two men then turn towards the Ferrari garage, where they can see the two drivers and the mechanics. "They look like they have a really good car, that's all I can tell you. But that doesn't mean-"

But it's too late, the British Mclaren driver no longer listens to his boss. As the Ferrari mechanics and strategists set to work, he saw among this small crowd Charles alongside a girl. At first glance, he thought it was his girlfriend. But upon closer observation, the woman, who is facing away, has a little shorter hair and is smaller in stature. And her hair color reminds him of her.

The girl he's been hopelessly in love with for 8 years now. But it can't be real, right? Why would you be here at the free practice sessions, and even more so accompanied by Charles Leclerc? His eyes must surely be hallucinating. But that silhouette from behind reminds him so much of you. But he tries to reassure himself. Or rather convince himself that there are so many brown girls in the paddock that he has confused you with someone else.

“Are you still listening to me or not?” Zack's serious voice rang in his ears. "Uh, yeah, sorry..." "You must need some time alone, I think" A mocking but concerned smile takes its place on Zack's face. “Yes, I think I need a little rest, excuse me” Lando smiles at him with difficulty before his boss goes further away.

The driver takes a deep breath. He can't help but look away at Charles and that girl. The more he looks, the more he feels like he's going back 8 years and seeing the girl he loves in front of him. He needs to know. He needs to be reassured and to be sure if this girl is really you.

And as if fate had heard it, the woman disappears from the garage, and seems to be heading to the paddock. So the British guy doesn't miss this chance and almost runs behind her to follow her. A few people give him confused and questioning looks, but he continues to pursue this dark-haired woman who hypnotizes him.

As he gets closer to you, his heart beats harder and harder. He feels like he's going to burst out of his chest and this feeling of stress eating away at him makes him want to vomit. Because he is realizing that he may have found his first love again. His eternal childhood crush.

That all those nights lost looking for you on social medias, trying to find your account and reconnect with you may not have been in vain. That all those nights lost thinking about you for a long time before falling asleep may not have been wasted in vain. That all these memories of you that he replays in his head finally make sense.

So, he goes for it without a second’s hesitation. "Excuse me ?" He speaks a little hesitantly, afraid of ending up with a woman who doesn't know him. But when the girl turns around, her brown hair flowing in the air, her eyes meeting his, Lando's heart skips several beats.

He finally found you.

The look of shock and surprise on your face mirrors Lando’s perfectly. Neither of you knows how to react, so you stay stuck like this for what seems like an eternity. But it is during this moment that the air suddenly seems changed. As if a connection, which once existed, was finally present again. As if an invisible link had finally reconnected between you, and united you for eternity. This change in atmosphere makes Lando's heart beat a little harder.

It seems unreal. So unreal that he thinks he's dreaming for a moment. For years, he never stopped thinking about you. To wonder what had become of you, what you looked like. And here you are now in front of him, more radiant than ever. This supernatural trance finally breaks when you decide to speak.

"Lando?!...Lando!!" You can't help but smile with all your teeth, a smile so sincere and strong. And oh God he suffered so much for the last eight years without being able to admire your magnificent smile. He adores it so much that he dreams of framing it in his memory forever. He knows how weak he becomes every time he gets the chance to admire your smile.

He can't help the big smile that comes over him as well. He feels so many emotions inside him that he feels like he's going to explode with happiness. "Y/n! Oh it's really you, I can't believe it!!" He can't even hide his joy and excitement, which makes you smile more, although it already seems impossible considering your cheeks already tired from just smiling.

“Me either, I feel like I’m in a dream” You admit, still a little surprised. “I didn’t think you were going to recognize me to be honest” You tell him, trying to contain your bomb of joy. “How could I not recognize you, when you are literally the most precious person to me?”

This simple sentence makes you blush violently, as you try to hide your embarrassment. “Uh- well it’s been 8 years since we last saw each other, so I doubt I’m still your favorite person” You laugh sweetly, and the sweet sound melts his heart. “So don’t doubt anymore, because you really are y/n” He addresses these few words to you while looking into yours.

And that's when he realizes how much you've changed. But changed in an incredibly beautiful way. You have kept this divine beauty which never fails to take his breath away. Your sweet facial features, that beautiful smile that he can't help but be obsessed with, and just simply your face that he could gaze at for hours and hours without ever getting tired of it.

You were already very beautiful when you were younger, when you were teenagers. But now you are infinitely more magnificent and resplendent. You look much more mature, and much more feminine. He has the impression of seeing an angel, a goddess before him. And that too has not changed, you remain for him the most beautiful woman he has ever met in his entire life.

The same goes for you. He's grown up so much, he's no longer the immature but adorable little Lando you loved so much before. Now he's a real man. He is more muscular, more virile but above all he has retained this eternal beauty and attractiveness. His beard makes him look a lot older too.

And then his hair. You teased him back then because he had trouble combing his hair. But these beautiful silky and shiny curls make you want and want to play with them, to caress them until they are messy enough for you to style them again.

“I see that my karting races have brought you to the wonderful world of Formula 1” The driver then says in order to hide the fact that he has been gazing at you for a few minutes now. You chuckle, before nodding. “Yeah, it must be said that a certain Lando Norris passed on his passion for motorsport to me” He lets out a little embarrassed laugh before turning his attention back to you.

"But Lando Norris was replaced by his opponent apparently. Bad luck." Lando's eyes land on the monegasque Ferrari driver who joins the conversation, right next to you. His tone turns colder as he stares at Charles. He can't help but feel a pang - or rather a big pang - of jealousy at the idea that you potentially replaced him with the monegasque driver.

Maybe your heart finally fell for Charles? Maybe in the end you always preferred him. He can't get these assumptions out of his head, because they haunt him now and just thinking about them makes him even more jealous. How come you're as close to Charles as you once were to Lando?

"Wow, what a reunion! Y/n told me how you were best friends before" Charles smiles kindly, and Lando seems surprised by his words. “Did she really tell you?” He asks suddenly. You clear your throat, embarrassed by what you told your friend about your relationship with the Brit.

"Yes, she told me so many things about you. That you were her favorite boy - and still are, that she loved spending time with you so much, that she really found you adorable and cute-” “Hey shut up!!” You beg Charles, placing the palm of your hand over his mouth.

Lando feels himself blush violently upon hearing Charles' words. Is this really true? “Do you think I’m cute ?” He teases you gently, but you feel even more embarrassed that you end up pressing your hands to your cheeks to hide the already terribly apparent red color.

"And that's not all, I still forgot lots and lots of things... anyway, I'll leave you, work awaits me again" Charles ends up patting the Mclaren driver on the shoulder, before to give you a smile and walk away.

A silence falls for a moment. The atmosphere has suddenly changed, it's more tense. But tense because you now know that a more than ambiguous and friendly feeling has settled between you. Tension paralyzes you as you fight the urge to jump into each other's arms.

Lando finally clears his throat before looking into your beautiful eyes. “How did you meet Charles?” “I’m a friend of his girlfriend, and she introduced us.” You respond simply, staring at him intently. Until you notice that his eyes no longer support your gaze but attack your lips.

It makes you think of that moment. And it makes him think of that moment too.

He stared intently at your pink lips. He wonders if he can. If he has the right. If he can taste them again. To move his lips on yours, to see if they are as soft as they seem.

To relive this moment. This moment, which is undoubtedly the most beautiful of his memories, and even more the most beautiful day of his life.

-

England was probably now one of your favorite destinations. Maybe because you found your confidant there, your best friend, this boy as adorable as he was immature who dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver. But all good things come to an end, and you already knew that destiny had to separate your paths. That these two months of vacation spent alongside Lando will only be distant but happy memories of your adolescence, and that you will perhaps end up watching him race on TV, being only a spectator and no longer his childhood best friend.

Lando knew it too. He knew that you had to return to your homeland, because after all England was only the destination your parents had chosen for the summer holidays. But his heart was breaking, suffocating at the idea of letting you go, when he had just accepted the fact that you were for him, potentially the woman of his life. You couldn't suppress the feeling of apprehension and sadness, as each minute that passed reminded you of how much time you would miss, passing by at a crazy speed.

Sitting on large rocks on the beach, you both admired the beautiful sunset that was falling on this last day of vacation. Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin. So you wanted to fully enjoy your last moments with your secret lover, because you might never meet him again. Silence reigned, peacefully, while the sound of the insolent waves lulled your ears with a bitter melody. You hoped you could slow down time, or rather extend it, because he seemed so stingy and selfish about giving you a little more to even exchange your unspoken thoughts.

Suddenly, you felt the boy's gaze on you, a gaze so intense that you had to turn your head away to look at him the same way. A mischievous smile appeared on his thin lips, as he opened his mouth to say a few words to you. “You promised me a gift if I won my kart race. I’m still waiting for it, Y/n.” His eyes filled with mischief and impatience, as you remembered the promise you had made to him. He had won his karting race earlier in the day, and you had promised him a gift if he managed to win it. However, you didn't think it would be so easy, since you had secretly chosen a rather... surprising gift.

A kiss. Not on his cheek, his forehead, or even his temple. No, it was more than just a childish, awkward kiss. A real, quick kiss on his lips. You thought about it because, although you sincerely believed in Lando's phenomenal abilities, you didn't think he would end up on the top step of the podium so easily and quickly. And now you're in trouble. Lando continues to stare at you mischievously, still impatient to discover your precious gift. Your brain was no longer able to function, your heart was speeding up. Did you really have to go for it? Take the plunge and place your lips on his?

Lando's impatience and waiting were more evident, while you were still panicking inside. And then, that's when you understood. That there was only him in your heart, and that there was only one chance. Only one life to live it to the fullest, without regretting anything. That worst case scenario, you'll go home the next day, forgetting this stupid promise and action. That in the end, this vacation, this boy, and this kiss, will remain engraved as the most beautiful adolescent chapter of your life, and that you will remember it with full joy and nostalgia.

Then the next second, Lando was surprised to feel a pair of lips on his. The kiss only lasted a short second, yet long enough for him to feel a bunch of different emotions. His heart felt like it was stopping, just as his brain was trying to properly process what had just happened. A powerful, strange but sweet feeling came over the young British man. He had just received his first kiss, and even more so from the girl he loved desperately. As you pulled back to look into his eyes, his looked back at you, confused. But because he understood.

He understood that this was love. That he was destined to remain faithful to you, for the rest of his life, because that kiss was the promise that his heart would belong to you forever.

-

It's been a little over a week now since you and Lando got together. And these last few days have been filled with nostalgia, reunions and above all strong and intense emotions. After the Jeddah race, Lando asked you to spend time together. Finally, he secretly wanted to insinuate that he wanted to spend every minute of his time by your side. Like before, like eight years ago.

He had finally found his childhood crush, the woman he considered the love of his life, and so he wasn't going to let her escape so easily. Especially since this reunion made him rekindle these deep feelings that he had not lost, but balked at because he had come to the conclusion that he will never find you again. However, talking to you again, spending time with you made him feel the love he had for you, but so much more intense, so much stronger and more powerful.

He's never felt like this before with any other girl, he's never seen himself in this state. Completely and obsessively in love, desperate to receive your attention and stay with you. Finding you was a sentimental blow to him, while he found himself lost forever in your heart. Finding you sealed his heart in your hands for eternity.

“It was a great day.” You hasten to say as a pretty smile takes place on your face. The driver looks at you lovingly, as he nods his head in approval. “Especially when I beat you at karting. It was the best moment of the day” He teases you and you stare at him. "I drove into the barrier because you hit my kart with yours. It doesn't count" You try to defend yourself.

“It doesn’t matter, I still won.” He adds as you sit side by side on the warm sand of the beach. “Still as narcissistic as back then” You roll your eyes but don’t hide that teasing smile on your face. “Still the same Lando Norris that you loved so much” He adds, his eyes scanning the horizon in the distance.

You swallow with difficulty, a lump in your throat. “Loved uh…” You whisper to yourself. Raising your head, you are greeted by the sunset. A pretty sunset, the same one that accompanied you on that last day of vacation eight years ago. You can't help but feel this feeling of nostalgia, of happiness.

It's exactly the same pretty frame, and the same boy by your side. It reminds you so much of that beautiful day long ago. Your heart warms at the thought. You finally found the man you love so much, and you couldn't be happier than right now.

The waves play the same melody, but this time the melody is more beautiful. Brighter and strangely romantic. As you gaze at the clouds in the distance, you feel Lando's intense gaze on you. Exactly the same look he gave you back then. Then, as if you were rehearsing the same scene, like a play that you are performing to perfection, you turn around to lock your gaze with his.

And there, that famous mischievous smile takes over his lips. Eight years later, he has the same look, this smile that changed everything. "You forgot your promise again, like back then. I'm still waiting for it, y/n" His words hit you like a bomb. Because they are exactly the same ones he said to you the day you made that stupid promise to him. This stupid gift.

And as if you weren't stupid enough, you secretly thought of the same gift. You internally promised yourself that you would give him the same kiss if he managed to beat you in karting. And he did it, as if he had put all his soul into the race to deserve this surprise gift from you. You feel helpless as the same panic takes hold of you. Everything seems so unreal. This sweet memory will finally happen again.

You see his eyes drop to your lips for a split second. But it's that split second that changes everything about you. Now you know it's for life. That you found the boy of your heart, that you will never leave him again, even if he doesn't feel the same way as you. That you only have one life to regret nothing, and this childhood kiss you have never regretted. So you never want to regret it.

You smile shyly, and without him being able to do anything, you crash your lips onto his. Lando's eyes widen, but he finally realizes what's happening. And he doesn't wait any longer to move his lips to yours. But this time the kiss is totally different. It is no longer innocent and shy like it used to be. It's no longer a little kiss between two teenagers who promised each other a gift.

No, this time it's much more romantic. More intense, deep and passionate. It's so comforting and sweet. This kiss is the fruit of the unconditional love he feels for you. So, he continues to deepen the kiss, his hand delicately cupping your cheek while his arm comes around your waist.

He licks your bottom lip with his tongue before nibbling it gently, letting you completely devote yourself to him. He continues to kiss you passionately, but yet it's not vulgar or crude. It's a soft and pleasant kiss, where only love is exchanged between your lips.

You finally broke the kiss by pulling back, a shy smile matching your pink cheeks perfectly. He opens his eyes, a silly smile on his lips before quickly pecking your lips again. You stay like that for a moment, admiring each other for a long time, love in your eyes.

"I'm so fucking in love with you, baby. Not since yesterday, not since last week, no. Since ages ago, for so long that I've stopped counting." You smile at him tenderly, your cheeks still pink. "Me too, Lando. I've loved you since we first met."

He smiles wider as his arms pull you a little closer to him. "You know, you're the girl who stole my first kiss. And you're also the only girl who managed to steal my heart. My heart has been yours for eight years, since the very moment you took me kissed." You can’t help but giggle, which melts Lando’s heart. “I thought you stopped counting.” He scratches the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. “Let’s just say I kept counting because I was desperate to know when I was going to find the woman I love.”

In the meantime he leaned over you, until you were lying on the soft sand. “Every day you were gone was like a bullet in my chest.” “What a romantic, I’m almost going to get emotional” You tease, a mocking laugh coming from you. “Still as teasing as before” He adds, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"For eight years, you were the only girl who never stopped staying anchored in my thoughts. From our first kiss, my heart already belonged to you, and it will continue to be yours for the rest of my life. I never wanted any other girl but you, and I waited so long for you that I'll never let you go. I love you so much, sweetheart” His words warm your heart, as you gently caress his face with your thumbs. “I’m completely in love with you too, Lan.” And in these last words, he rushes to kiss you again.

You feel like eight years ago, like the two idiots in love who stole their first kiss. Nothing has changed except the reality that reminds you that your love is bound for eternity, and that it will continue to exist because it is deeper and more passionate every day. That this is the present moment, and that your hearts are finally filled with happiness to have been able to find their other half, after so many years of desperately continuing to live without the presence of the other.

[st4rg8te]

Twisted Affections (GL) (P. 1)

Yandere! Emperor's Mistress X Empress! Reader

✦✧✦✧

The lessons that had been instilled in you since birth resurfaced in your mind: ‘The Mother of the Nation should be dignified, elegant, and composed. She should never show any sign of weakness in front of her subjects.’ 

But you couldn’t help but break in her embrace.

✦✧✦✧

[tw: adultery, s*xism, slight description of blood/injury]

✦✧✦✧

Your marriage with your husband—the Emperor, was a cold and loveless one, devoid of any warmth or affection. 

The two of you were betrothed to each other at a young age for the sake of politics. You were the daughter of an influential duke, while he was the heir to the throne. To the gaze of others, it had seemed like the perfect match. 

You had once thought the same. Hoping that the differences between the two of you would find a resolution in the arrangement, but that wish gradually withered away, unfulfilled. 

What could you do but silently endure the circumstances you were placed in? Until now, you had always maintained the perfect facade expected of an Empress.

As the years passed, the weight of responsibility overshadowed the absence of love in your marriage, settling deep within you as resigned acceptance.

But deep down, a small, naive part of you still wished for a happy ending with your prince charming, like in all those fairy tales your mother had once read to you before she died.

Your parents’ marriage had also been an arranged one, but as a little girl, you remembered the way your father would look at your mother as if she had hung all the stars in the sky. Perhaps one day, your husband would look at you in the same way?

It was simply too bad that this small hope of yours had been mercilessly crushed the moment your husband brought her home.

The sight of them together made your stomach twist into knots, and your words were caught in your throat. You felt your hands tremble as you clutched the silky fabric of your gown, trying to maintain a steady composure.

She was beautiful, with flowing blond locks and bright blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight filtering through her delicate skin.  Although dressed in a simple gown that marked her status as a commoner, she exuded the grace and elegance of a noble princess.

A faint smile played on her lips as she laughed lightly with your husband, and he returned her smile with an equally warm one.

Why had he never smiled at you like that before?

“Her Majesty has arrived!” announced the servant behind you, and only then, did the lovers part.

Your eyes met bright baby blue ones. Her face lit up with excitement and delight as she took several steps toward you before stopping abruptly, realizing she was in front of the Emperor's wife.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately fell into a curtsy. Her dress rustled softly as her head dipped lower, revealing the graceful lines of her neck and arms.

The action made your lips twitch.

"G-greetings, Your Majesty! I've been looking forward to meeting you." Her voice held a slight tremor as she spoke.

She seemed younger than you, an edge of innocence that stirred people's protectiveness under her words—it served as another bitter reminder that the man you married did not belong to you.

You ignored her gaze boring into you; instead, turning your eyes back to your husband.

Your tone was icy, "What is this?"

"Lucia is going to live at the palace." He replied smoothly.

A hazy sense of familiarity washed over you once you heard her name come out of his mouth, but that was quickly forgotten with his next words:

"I intend to make her my concubine."

"What?" Your breath hitched sharply. "Why was I not informed of this sooner?"

He furrowed his brows in disapproval, "I do not need to explain my decisions to you. Do not get ahead of yourself."

"Have you not thought about what others would think—"

"Is that all you worry about?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have failed in your duty as my wife, for four years, you have not bore me a single child. It was about time someone else took care of it."

The harshness of his words cut through you like a blade, leaving you momentarily speechless. He continued, unperturbed by your silence, "My decision is final. I expect you, as the Empress, to give her suitable accommodations and see that she gets properly educated and trained."

You suddenly felt the urge to laugh, a humorless scoff ripping from your mouth as a cold fury burned within you. Shaky fingers curled tightly against your palm until it drew blood.

Your voice was hollow.

"I have important matters to attend to. Enjoy your stay, Lady Lucia."

Without waiting for an answer, you turned on your heel and strode out the grand corridors. The entourage of servants silently trailing behind you.

The sound of thundering steps echoed throughout the halls, but you had never felt as lonely as you did in that moment.

✦✧✦✧

Soon, word had spread quickly of Lucia's arrival as the Emperor's new concubine.

Even your family had heard the news. You were quickly met with a wrathful letter from the Duke, shaming you for losing to another woman—a commoner, no less.

For days, you had remained alone in your chambers. Rereading the scathing remarks written on the crumpled letter over and over again. Your father’s scorn a heavy burden on your already weary shoulders.

But what could you do? The Emperor's actions were beyond your control. It wasn't unheard of for a monarch to take lovers, and in some ways, even expected.

And the task of ignoring the jeers and taunts behind your back was becoming increasingly harder. In order to distract yourself, you began to drown yourself in the your duties.

"—They say Her Majesty is infertile. If that's true then here's no doubt about it; she'll be replaced by that new girl soon."

"—She's growing older each day, but there is still no sign of a child being conceived. Of course His Majesty would become tired of her."

"Poor thing."

Humiliation coiled in your gut like a snake. Behind you, your personal maid, Mary, spoke up, her voice filled with indignation on your behalf.

"Your Majesty, I'll go teach them a lesson—"

"No need," You replied, with a composed exterior, you continued walking. "Let's go."

As your husband had requested, you provided Lucia with everything he had asked for: servants, new gowns, jewelry, and suitable living quarters (which you ensured were as far away as possible from your residence). The lavish gifts and living space were more than generous, a testament to your patience.

You had also ensured that her presence would be kept minimally invasive to your daily life. Hopefully, the only times you would encounter her were on formal occasions, and nothing else.

At least that was what you had wished for, but it seemed that fate had a cruel way of playing tricks on mortals.

From the corner of your eye, a hint of blonde hair caught your attention. You halted in your steps as Lucia's face came into view, accompanied by a small group of her attendants.

‘Why was she here?’

The sight was enough to put you on edge; the last person you wanted to see right now was your husband's mistress.

She wore a delighted expression on her face as the group made their way toward you, "Your Majesty! I've been looking for you.”

Before you could respond, Mary stepped forward and quickly curtsied before the blonde woman, a hint of unfriendliness in her tone:

"Lady Lucia, how can we help you?"

An indiscernible emotion flashed across Lucia's eyes before she smiled again.

"I wanted to thank Her Majesty for all the help she has given me, and was going to invite her for tea."

Was she testing your patience on purpose? You couldn't believe your ears.

"Her Majesty has important business to attend to. Perhaps we could arrange another time." Mary suggested firmly. 

But the blonde woman ignored Mary’s words, and turned her expectant gaze towards you instead. You remained composed, offering Lucia a polite smile that did not quite reach your eyes.

"I appreciate the kind gesture, Lady Lucia. But perhaps another time.”

Lucia's smile faltered, and she slowly nodded her head, "I see... I'm sorry if I'm bothering you,"

You made a mental note to instruct the guards later not to let her wander around freely anymore. Seeing her every day would likely ruin your mood even more.

"—But,"

Shocked gasps rose from the attendants around you.

“My lady!”

Lucia paused, then her delicate fingers lifted the hem of her gown to reveal the crimson-stained slippers underneath. The blood had seeped through, staining her pristine white stockings a dark, ominous shade of red.

Your eyes widened in shock. Unaccustomed to the sight of blood, the gory display was enough to send shudders down your spine.

"Lady Lucia... What is the meaning of this?" You demanded, your voice trembling slightly as an unsettling feeling began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Lucia's eyes were wide, and her lips curved up into a serene smile, "It wouldn't hurt Her Majesty to join us this once."

Her voice rang out, sickeningly sweet:

"I only wish to repay you. It would be a shame for His Majesty to hear about his beloved concubine getting injured in the Empress' own quarters. Wouldn't you agree, Your Majesty?"

✦✧✦✧

[mydearzero]

Livid | mean!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: Annoying Spencer, just to see him get mad, was one of your favourite ways to pass time at the BAU. Emily had warned you not too push him too far. You hadn't realised how right she was until Spencer decides he's had enough and takes you down to the basement.

Contents: DUB-CON, NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, mean!Spencer, no aftercare,, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie (is it even a mydearzero original if there's no coming inside?), spanking, dacryphilia, impact play, choking, spit, degradation, humiliation, semi-public sex, punishment, name calling, sir kink, filming and taking pictures without permission, orgasm denial, If I missed any warnings please tell me!

5K words

this one's a doozy folks. buckle up. it's pure porn - nik

You weren't doing it on purpose at first. It just so happened that you occasionally did things that got under Spencer's skin. You gradually realized which actions ticked him off and started doing them more and more. You just enjoyed seeing him annoyed, huffing and puffing, yet never saying anything. His patience seemed neverending.

Emily had warned you not to push him too far. According to her, when Spencer snapped, he exploded. 

Yeah, right. 

Her discouragement only egged you on. You'd hardly ever seen the genius even get mad. Spencer got irritated at best. He was an angel, really. 

So you continued pushing, taking every possible chance to get on his last nerve. It had turned from enjoying seeing him annoyed to wanting to see him furious. You'd seen Spencer snarl at a snobby police officer once. Hell, you'd even seen him snap at an UnSub. But you'd never seen him absolutely livid. 

It took you a while to figure out why you wanted to see him get mad. 

You thought back to that case, the one that had him yelling at the UnSub. You couldn't even remember the details of the case. All you could think about was Spencer's hands gripping the table as he leaned across it, getting close and personal with the UnSub. 

You cared about the veins straining against the surface of his skin, the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. The only lasting memory you had of the case was the tone of his voice and what it did to your body. 

A part of you wanted to be on the other side of that table, and it scared you how that part was growing exponentially, especially after Emily's warning. 

You didn't want to admit it, not even to yourself. But the sole reason you continued messing with Spencer was the age-old 'teasing your crush to get their attention' stint, and you hadn't even realized it. 

You shouldn't have been having all these deep thoughts and desires while sitting at your desk on a random Tuesday afternoon. Yet here you were. 

You tried to read the lines on the page in front of you repeatedly but to no avail. Your face sunk into your hands as you groaned inwardly. You had to stop this juvenile behaviour at this second. He was going to catch on. You were certain somebody already must've done the math. 

It shouldn't have surprised you when Spencer did finally burst. It wasn't like you did anything out of the usual. He wasn't even being tormented by a gruelling case. He'd just had enough. 

"God! You think you're so cute, don't you?" Spencer exclaimed, slamming the mouse you'd taped over on the table. The silence from before and after his outburst differed immensely. It was calm and serene before it turned tense and awkward. 

You slowly turned to look at his desk, not meeting his eye. If you had, you would've seen the way his pupils dilated at your meek behaviour. The way he had to regain his composure. 

Your heart rate skyrocketed, feeling caught. You knew reading minds wasn't a thing, but profiling sure was one of the things closest to it in this world. Spencer couldn't have known what you were thinking only seconds prior to him finding your latest childish attempt to invoke his anger. But it felt like he knew. 

Spencer scoffed as you chewed on your bottom lip, suddenly not feeling so funny anymore. "You don't have anything to say for yourself?" 

You gaped as you made eye contact with an overly amused Derek. He was enjoying this show to its fullest extent. "Don't look at me, kid. We warned you." He shrugged. 

You turned your eyes back to a still-aggravated Spencer. He pushed himself away from his desk and got out of his chair. He brushed his hands over his jacket, still sending daggers your way. 

Your gaze followed him hesitantly as he stalked over to your desk. You scrambled to arrange things as if your messy workspace would only annoy him more. 

"Get up." He demanded. You raised your eyebrows in question. Was he serious? 

"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Emily teased in a sing-songy tone. Not helping, Prentiss. 

"You're messing with me, right? Because of all the stupid pranks?" You asked sceptically. Your voice was wavering and uncertain. 

"No, I'm being dead serious. Get up. Follow me." Spencer made an upwards motion with his fingers as he loomed over your seated figure. 

You slowly pushed your chair out and sent questioning glances to JJ, who only shrugged. Your legs were unsteady as you stood. Spencer was your coworker, your friend. So why was your heart beating in your throat as if you were about to be sent to the fifth circle of Dante's Inferno? 

Spencer didn't say another word as his long legs stalked out of the bullpen, uncaring that you were struggling to keep up. You nearly tripped over your feet several times before reaching the elevator. You stood beside a seething Spencer, who turned to push the 'B' button. 

The basement? What business did he, or you, for that matter, have in the basement? Nobody ever- Right. Nevermind.

Nobody ever set foot in the basement. 

You twiddled with your fingers in anticipation, hearing Spencer breathe in an unnatural pattern. The floors passed by quickly, and before you knew it, you were met with the sight of the metal doors sliding open into darkness. 

Spencer flicked the light switch. Harsh, industrial, white light filled the dusty room. It was smaller than you expected. The rows of file cabinets made it look smaller than it really was. A desk was situated in the middle, seemingly abandoned. 

You shuddered a breath as you stepped into the room, feeling exposed even when you knew nobody could see or hear you down here. Your shoes seemed outrageously interesting, your eyes never leaving them as you awaited Spencer with bated breath. 

"Look at me." His words filled the silence. The room had an eerie lack of echo, his voice sounding closer than it actually was. 

You slowly lifted your head to meet his gaze. He appeared taller like this, especially when you were already feeling small, hunching in on yourself. 

"I'm going to give you one chance to apologize for your downright appaling behaviour." Spencer crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk. You felt as if you were being scolded by a teacher for throwing a crayon at another student. 

"Why the condescending tone, Reid? We're all coworkers here." You questioned defensively, mirroring his stance by crossing your arms. 

"That doesn't sound like an apology to me, but I'll bite. We are definitely coworkers. But you know as well as I that you changed that dynamic when you decided to start acting like a spoilt little girl begging for my attention." His composure didn't change as he spoke the incriminating words.

You didn't know what you expected coming down here with him, but this certainly wasn't it. You felt something simmer at his words, something you didn't want to acknowledge. You searched his face for any emotion, but only found a look that said "Well?" 

When he noticed you weren't going to answer, he laughed. It wasn't a hearty chuckle. There was an underlying tone of sarcasm and ridicule to it. 

"You've been at this for months, and now you're not even going to attempt to say sorry? I expected a shitty excuse, sure, but an apology nonetheless." Spencer scoffed. 

You knew he was holding back. You could see it in the way he turned his head and closed his eyes before facing you again. You damned your profiling skills for giving you a foresight of what he had in store for you. You'd seen nothing of his wrath yet. 

You knew he was getting frustrated at your silence, but you couldn't find the words. Nothing you could say could make this any better for you. You ran all the possible outcomes in your head, but every thought was more incriminating than the previous one. 

"Fine." He clapped his hands together, stepping away from the desk. He motioned towards it, signalling you to take timid steps towards the piece of furniture. You looked at him questioningly. 

His eyebrows raised. The words "You know what to do" went unspoken. 

You swallowed as your mouth went dry. You looked at the desk, before looking at Spencer again. He didn't have to say anything. He wanted you to do it yourself. You closed your eyes as you leaned your palms against the unkept wood. You slowly brought your elbows down, leaning on them uncertainly. If this wasn't his intention, you'd just embarrassed yourself into the next century. 

You heard him breathe deeply as he walked behind you. You jerked as his hand ran up your back until it reached between your shoulder blades. He pushed hard enough to press your chest flush with the desk, turning your head to lie it on the surface. His hand stayed there as the other was placed on your hip. 

Spencer let out a content sigh. "Better." 

He stepped away, leaving a cold feeling behind. You didn't dare move, already mortified at your predicament. You tried to breathe as quietly as possible as if any noise you made could set him off. You tried to hear what he was doing, unable to see him clearly in your peripheral. 

Your head raised off the desk at lightning speed when you heard the unmistakable sound of a phone camera shutter. 

"Did I say you could move?" Spencer asked. You shook your head, quickly placing it back on the desk. For a second, you wondered why you were even listening to him. He had no authority over you. But it felt exhilarating to give it to him. 

"You speak when I ask you a question. No shaking your head, understood?" His voice came from in front of the desk. How hadn't you noticed him walking around it? 

"Yes, sir," You squeaked, doing as he asked. Sir? Really? 

"Good girl." 

The words flipped a switch inside you. You licked your lips and closed your eyes, seemingly having to wait an eternity for him to take the next step. You heard the distinct sound of his belt unbuckling. You found yourself crossing your legs at the implication. Surely he wasn't going to whip you? 

You thought you were going to get scolded for the action, but Spencer ignored it. He reached for your wrists, lying awkwardly beside your head. You didn't dare make eye contact. 

You were confused at his next action until you saw the hole near the back of the desk, meant for cables. He threaded the belt through it before bringing your wrists to it and tying them together. The positioning was awkward at best, but you were starting to feel like that's what he wanted, to embarrass you. 

You gave the makeshift handcuffs an experimental tug. They didn't budge, of course. Panic simmered in your chest, a claustrophobic feeling settling at the thought that you were stuck. There was nowhere for you to go, nowhere for you to run from Spencer's revenge. 

He ran a hand through your hair, softly shushing you like you were a child. His hand slowly slid down your back. Your breath stuttered at his deliberate pace. He was taking his sweet time. 

"Shhh... You're fine." He whispered, putting a foot between yours and kicking them open. You grunted at the action just as he was hooking his fingers into your bottoms and taking your underwear clean off with them. He lifted one of your feet, only bothering to untangle one foot and leaving your clothes pooled at your other ankle. 

His fingers trailed up the inside of your leg. The tips of his fingers finally found the spot where you needed them most, but Spencer didn't do much besides feel you up. 

"You're so fucking wet it's pathetic." He mumbled as he wiped his fingers on your thigh. 

"You can pretend that you're tough and grown up all you want, but this is what you are. A pathetic little whore begging for my attention." Spencer walked around the desk and grabbed your chin harshly. The look in his eyes could only be described as animalistic. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips. 

You saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you. You wanted him to kiss you. But he did no such thing. 

"Open your mouth." He demanded, squishing your cheeks between his pointer finger and thumb. You obeyed, but it wasn't good enough for him.

"You can do better than that, c'mon." He urged, putting his thumb in your mouth and pushing your head back. He removed his hand and observed you lying there with your mouth open. He seemed pleased at the sight, humming in approval. 

His hand made its way back to your chin, turning your face upwards, craning your neck uncomfortably. You hadn't registered what he'd done until you felt a warm glob hit your tongue. Had he just spit in your mouth? You looked at him aghast. 

"Wipe that shocked look off your face and swallow it if you know what's good for you." He patted your cheek mockingly. You closed your mouth and swallowed his spit, not trying to think too much about the fact that known germaphobe Spencer Reid had just spit. in. your. fucking. mouth. 

"That's what I thought." He said, grabbing the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. You thought he was going to take it off, maybe leaving it on your arms, seeing as they were currently tied to the desk, but he did no such thing. He brought the hem over your eyes, effectively blindfolding you with your shirt. 

You couldn't imagine what you must've looked like. Legs spread, bottoms haphazardly pulled down, shirt over your eyes, hands tied, pussy dripping. Your heart sank as you heard Spencer take another picture. 

"You look so good like this, exactly how you're supposed to be," Spencer spoke with a misconstrued sense of pride. 

You flinched and yelped when he abruptly struck your behind with a flat hand. You'd expected this was coming, that he was going to punish you, but you hadn't heard him approach. He rubbed his hand over the sore spot he'd just hit. 

"You're going to count them for me, and you're going to apologize after every single one. You better mean it because if I feel you're being insincere, you're only gonna get more until I believe you." Spencer set the rules, resting his left hand on your hip. You waited for him to begin, but another strike didn't come. 

"This is the time where you say 'Yes, sir' like you did earlier. I must admit, I didn't expect that one. But I like it, so we're keeping it," he mocked. 

"-Yes, sir," you stammered. Another hum of approval met your ears as he repositioned himself for the optimal angle. 

He didn't hold back as the second slap hit your butt. It stung more than you'd expected, a burning sensation spreading fast. 

"Two. I'm sorry, Spencer." You apologized, putting as much sincerity behind the words as you could muster. 

"No, that was one. The first one was just a warning. And you don't deserve to call me Spencer right now. You'll need to earn that privilege back. You'll learn to respect me soon enough. Now, start over." 

His hand came back down once more.

"One! I'm sorry, sir," you hissed at the pain. 

"What are you sorry for, princess?" Spencer asked as he delivered another smack. 

"Two! I'm sorry for disrespecting you!" You no longer had the energy to keep your head up, giving up the attempt to look at him and resting it back on the desk. 

"And?" He questioned. Another strike. 

"Three! I'm sorry for embarrassing you and pulling stupid pranks." You admitted.

"I don't buy it," Spencer contemplated. 

"Please, sir! I'm sorry. I'm genuinely sorry for being so childish." You apologized. A strike harder than the previous ones landed on your behind. 

"You don't speak out of turn, do you understand?" Spencer gripped your hair and pulled your head up to spit the words straight into your ear. You nodded wildly, as much as his grip on your hair through the shirt would allow. 

"Yes, yes, I understand." You said. Spencer let go of your hair. You only had milliseconds to respond, preventing your head from hitting the wood. He returned to his previous position, not wasting any time before landing several strikes to your ass.

This continued for a while, him smacking, you counting and begging for his forgiveness. Your legs were shaking by the time he reached the twentieth hit. 

"Twenty... I really am sorry, sir. I shouldn't have pushed you." You sighed, feeling Spencer rub circles over the impacted flesh. 

"Have you learned your lesson?" He asked. 

"Yes, I won't do it again. I'm sorry." You didn't remember how many times the words 'I'm' and 'sorry' had rolled off your tongue that afternoon, but it must've been dozens. 

"Good. Now, for good measure, one last time." There was an underlying tone to the threat you couldn't place. You didn't have to wonder long, the last strike landing directly on your pussy. 

"Shit! Oh my god," you cursed, attempting to shut your legs. Spencer's feet kept them from moving. He'd anticipated the reaction. You were glad for the echoless chamber, the humiliatingly wet sound only reverberating slightly. 

"Now I can really be sure you'll remember." You could hear the smile in his voice. He was enjoying this too much. But then again, hadn't you been the exact same? Gaining joy from inconveniencing him? You sighed at the realization you couldn't judge him for getting off on this. The last smack certainly hadn't been a dry one. 

"Now..." Spencer trailed off. He removed the shirt from your eyes, pushing it further over your head. He pushed the fabric into your mouth as a makeshift gag. 

"Don't you make any noise, okay? I mean, not like anybody will hear you down here." He chuckled. You turned your head and your eyes widened as you saw him walk towards the elevator. He pushed the call button and turned back to catch one last glimpse at you. He snapped a quick picture of your reddened ass cheeks before stepping into the elevator. 

You yelled his name through the gag, nothing but gurgling, obstructed pleas meeting his ears. He wasn't leaving, right? He wouldn't. He couldn't. He was just testing you. 

You were left with the sound of your own pants and racing heart. You tugged at your binds once more. What if he left? Went home? Surely it was past the regular office hours by now. 

Tears welled up in your eyes at the idea of being left here like this overnight. What if nobody came down here? What if somebody did come down here and saw you like this? You were conflicted. 

After 10 minutes of silent contemplation and several escape attempts, the metallic creaking of the elevator coming down sounded through the basement. You clenched your eyes shut, begging the universe it was Spencer and nobody else. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard the familiar sound of Spencer's shoes hitting the linoleum floor. You watched as he sipped his newly acquired coffee, not acknowledging you, only looking at his phone. After presumably sending a couple of texts, he shut it off and put it away on top of one of the cabinets nearby.

He smiled at the sight of the fresh tears rolling down your face. "Tell me, have you ever heard of Dacryphilia?" He asked as he crouched down to your level and wiped a few stray tears from your chin. He removed the gag from your mouth. 

You shook your head before correcting yourself. "No, sir." 

"It's a form of paraphilia in which one is aroused by tears or sobbing," Spencer explained. Leave it up to Spencer to dive into an explanation at a moment like this. 

"I never thought I was someone who could be turned on by that. But seeing you like this, I can definitely see the appeal." His words were quiet, but so was the room. 

"You look so pretty when you cry for me." He praised, running a hand through your hair. It was a surprisingly sweet sentiment, given the circumstances. He got up from his crouched position before you. You looked up at him. The domineering gaze he gave back told you all you needed to know.  

"Thank you, sir," you whispered, hoping it was the correct response. 

"See? It's not that hard to be respectful. But I'm not done with you yet."  

Your breathing picked up as you remembered your predicament. Spencer didn't waste any time, pushing his pants down. His cock was long and thick. 

You thought he was going to make you suck it. He pushed it in your mouth harshly, not giving you any room to breathe. He held you there, choking on his cock by the back of your head for a few more seconds before pulling it out and slapping it on your cheek. He smiled wickedly before tucking it back in his pants. It had only been a taste, literally. 

He saw your confused look, but ignored it, opting to walk back around the desk. He wasted no time, pushing two fingers inside your mortifyingly wet hole. He curled them exactly right, and you clenched your fist and eyes to stop your legs from giving out. 

Just as you'd started moving your hips along with his hand, he pulled away. "Stay still. Or you don't get anything." 

You willed your entire body to remain frozen as he resumed his activities. He brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing at the exact speed and pressure to make your knees buckle. You had to put all your weight on your upper body to stop moving. 

"God, will you shut up?" Spencer groaned. You hadn't even noticed you were making any noise, the moans and whines falling from your lips sounding foreign. 

You bit your lip to keep them from escaping, but it was hard when Spencer was unrelenting. You felt yourself coming close, soft, high-pitched whines escaping your throat no matter how hard you tried to contain them.  

Your toes curled, and your muscles tightened, but Spencer pulled away. More tears welled up in your eyes at the immensely unsatisfying sensation. You wanted to beg him to please continue and let you finish. But he'd told you to shut up, and you really weren't looking to prolong your punishment. 

You heard your own pathetic sobs, drowning out the sound of him undoing his pants again. Your chest heaved as you tried to stay silent. Sweat dripped down your face, mixing with the tears. 

It was bizarre how quiet he stayed. He was usually so talkative. But the implication that you didn't deserve him speaking to you unless it was an order was clear. 

"This is all you're good for. A hole for me to fuck. And don't you dare forget it." Spencer lined himself up and didn't offer any more preparation before sliding inside. 

"You're just a deplorable, woeful, pitifully sad little girl." Spencer spat as his grip on your hair returned. His other hand snuck around your neck, gripping tightly. He used the grip on your hair and neck as leverage to set a brutal pace, calling you every synonym for pathetic available. 

"You think you're so important? Good enough to be pulling shit like this? You need to learn your. fucking. place." Every word was punctuated by a harsh thrust. "You're expendable at best." 

You didn't dare speak, the only thing leaving you was quiet sobs, whines and moans. Your breathing was strained against the hold he had on your neck. 

You were embarrassed to feel the knot in your stomach tightening worryingly fast. Spencer was treating you like a whore, and you were getting off on it, faster than anything else ever had before. 

Spencer felt you tighten around him and quickly pulled out and stepped away. You felt the cold breeze on your empty hole. More tears spilt as you heard the sound of a video recording starting. 

Spencer zoomed in on your desperate, fluttering pussy, before pushing back inside, keeping the camera focused on his cock entering in and out. 

You tried to hide your face when he turned the camera to it, but his hand yanked on your hair, making you face the camera. 

"Say: 'I'm Spencer's little slut. His own personal hole to use whenever he pleases because I'm a cockwhore hungry for attention.'" Spencer demanded. 

"Please, sir. Don't make me say it on camera," you begged. You'd say it, just to get it over with, but the current footage he had was already incriminating enough. 

"No, you're going to fucking listen to me for once. Say it." The pace of his hips never let up, your figure moving crudely in and out of the shot. 

"I-I'm Spencer's... Please," you began. Spencer's speed inside you increased, interrupting your train of thought. He delivered a harsh smack against your still sore ass, urging you to continue. 

"I'm Spencer's... little slut. His own personal... hole... to use whenever he pleases." You inhaled sharply before continuing. "Because I'm a... cockwhore... hungry for attention." You stuttered over the words, forcing them out. 

Spencer seemed satisfied, putting his phone away. His hand returned to your throat, cutting off the airflow as he fucked you harshly. Every thrust of his hips sent a jolt of electricity through your body. 

The wood was digging into your hips, sure to be beaten and bruised by tonight. Your weight was no longer being held up by your legs, Spencer's presence behind you being the only thing that kept you from collapsing. 

You were tight with desperation, every muscle wanting that sweet release he was depriving you of. 

Spencer grunted unintelligible curses against you as he pistoned inside. His thick cock felt like it was splitting you open with every thrust, no matter how wet you'd gotten. 

"Gonna cum inside you, and there's nothing you can do about it," Spencer mumbled as he sped up. How it was even possible, was beyond you. 

"Please, sir. Please let me cum." You whined. If he denied you one more time, you weren't sure if you could take it. 

"What makes you think you fucking deserve to cum? You're an annoying, good-for-nothing brat who's getting what was coming for her." He moaned against the shell of your ear. The sound ignited something new inside you. You needed to hear it again. 

"Please, Spencer. Please," you begged, more tears threatening to spill after you'd assumed you were all out. 

"What, you're gonna fucking cry? Like a fucking baby? Don't fucking do things if you're gonna fucking cry over the consequences, you fucking slut. And it's sir to you, you whore." You'd never heard Spencer this vulgar. And you could've never imagined what it would do to you. 

"You know what they call this, crybaby?" Spencer asked, tightening the grip on your throat, cutting off most if not all of the airflow. You shook your head aggressively. 

"Karma." He spoke, thrusting harshly to get the message across. The combination of the lack of air and his ruthless thrusts was brutal. You could feel yourself trembling, trying to keep yourself together. 

Spencer pushed his cock sharply one last time, twitching and releasing his spend inside you with a loud groan. He released your throat and pulled out. You fell forward, chest heaving with dry sobs. He hadn't let you come. You cried frustrated tears as Spencer took more photos, as expected. 

You felt the warm come drip from your pussy as Spencer took close-ups. A tense silence overtook the room as he made himself decent before paying you any attention. 

"Garcia still owed me a favour, so she disabled the elevator from coming down here unless you enter a code," Spencer explained as he untied you. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, even if the ordeal was already over. The fact that there had been no real threat settled the uneasy feeling, even if only a little. It was the only consolation he offered. Spencer redid his belt as if it hadn't just been used as handcuffs while he fucked you like you were his property to discard. 

You rubbed your wrists, seeing the red wells carved in them from your relentless tugging. How were you going to explain this when you came in tomorrow? 

Spencer didn't seem to care, simply grabbing his stuff and waiting for the elevator. You looked around for your underwear, only to see a small piece of fabric sticking out of his pocket. You sighed and put your bottoms back on without the underwear, cringing at the wet, sticky fluid still between your legs. Your top was still wet with saliva and tears. 

You got in the elevator with him without saying a word. You'd expected to at least talk to him about it, but as soon as you reached ground level, Spencer was gone. 

Your eyes welled up and cheeks heated when you realized you were going to have to walk through the lobby and go home alone, all without any underwear and while still dripping his cum. 

Spencer had gotten what he wanted. You were mortified. And you sure as hell weren't going to pull any more pranks anytime soon. 

Not while at the office, anyways. 

[drunk-person]

Study Session

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x classmate!reader

Summary: Aemond is assigned to a college work with Y/n, an absent-minded art student who doesn't give a damn about philosophy. Things don't go well since she doesn't help him at all, until the two come to an unorthodox agreement that ends the impasse.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! secret crush, semi-nudity, voyeurism, breast fetish, exchange of academic favors for "sex", modern au, no description for reader.

Word cont: 3.200k

Author's note: This just came to my mind while doing some really boring work and I ended up writing it. The Rosby house is close to Kings Landing so I chose this surname for the reader, I hope you like it.

Dedicated to the poor readers of The Gossip who read chapter 7 and are in need of some comfort for their souls after all that mess hahaha I love you all! English is not my first language 💕💕🥰

Y/n was so frustrated. That class was absolutely hellish and if it wasn't mandatory in her schedule she would certainly never even pass in front of the door. The only reasonable side to all of this was the fact that Aemond Targaryen sat in front of her during this unbearable class. He could be as arrogant as he wanted if he continued to be so hot.

The girl bit her lip as she stared at the back of his pale neck that was exposed to her eyes since his long silver hair was tied in a bun due to the heat wave. The two had never exchanged more than a few words, but Y/n couldn't help it, he was too handsome and intelligent for his own good.

She didn't know how he could understand that subject and answer all the questions the teacher asked as if they were obvious to him. Y/n did her best to hide her crush, but whenever no one was looking she couldn't help but sigh lightly as she looked at him.

She was barely in the same reality as the rest of the class when she heard her name being called harshly by the professor, pulling her out of her deep thoughts and back to real life.

-I'm sorry, professor, I was distracted. - She looked down, blushing when she realized that the whole class was looking at her while letting out light giggles.

-Which seems to be a very common occurrence with you, doesn't it? - The man spoke in an irritated voice and Y/n felt her face heat up even more.

-If you're interested in knowing, Miss Rosby, we're holding a draw for pairs of work for the semester. - The professor was still looking at Y/n as he spoke and reaching into the jar, he pulled out a new piece of paper.

-Aemond Targaryen.

Y/n felt her heart stop momentarily when she heard that name. Would her semester partner be Aemond Targaryen? The gods must have wanted to play with her.

-Good luck, Mr Targaryen, you will need it. - The man said, making the whole class laugh, except for Aemond, who, without Y/n noticing, glared at the teacher when he heard the mean joke.

After the class ended, the room gradually emptied, while the few remaining students put their books and notebooks in their backpacks. Aemond finished writing some notes in his notebook under the watchful eye of Y/n, who was anxiously waiting to talk to him.

And when he turned towards her with that serious look and that sculpted face, Y/n smiled and pretended to be disinterested.

-I don't understand half of what that man says. - She shrugged, staring at him while Aemond frowned. - I hope it won't be a problem for you to be my partner.

-Maybe you would understand if you spent more time paying attention in class and less time drawing. - Aemond rolled his good eye, putting away his own books while Y/n felt her belly heat up.

How did he know she was drawing in class if he had his back to her the whole time?

-I don't like studying boring things that guys who died centuries ago said and that don't make any sense.

-But do you like studying works that boring guys who died centuries ago painted and that don't make any sense? - He raised his eyebrows ironically, looking at her and Y/n's mouth slightly opened, not knowing what to say.

-That… That's not the point.

-Mmmm… if you say so. - The irony was poignant in his voice and expression and Y/n slightly narrowed her eyes, feeling the urge to argue more without knowing what to answer.

-They… They're not meaningless! - She snorted in annoyance and Aemond just let out a nasal laugh while raising his eyebrows.

-Most of them are just a bunch of meaningless scribbles. - He rolled his eyes, putting his backpack on his back.

-The name is surrealism, and perhaps underdeveloped minds don't understand it very well! - Y/n lifted her chin, pulled her own bag onto her shoulder and pressed the sketchbook against her chest, leaving before Aemond, leaving him with a mischievous smile on his lips as he watched her leave.

Y/n rolled her eyes, irritated with herself as she walked towards the open courtyard of the college, sitting at a stone table and throwing her bag on it, seriously considering diverting her idiotic crush on Aemond Targaryen to another guy.

Unfortunately for her, at the same moment the thought crossed her mind, his soft voice called her from behind and the hairs on the back of the girl's neck stood on end at the same moment, making her snort.

-We need to decide where and when we're going to meet to start the work. - He murmured and Y/n turned to look at him, snorting when she saw that he looked even more attractive with the sunlight shining through his silver hair.

In the natural light, the prosthetic eye was more visible than indoors, as was the thin scar that ran from the eye to the forehead and cheek. Y/n didn't give a shit, she just thought he looked even hotter if that was possible.

-Rosby? - Aemond called her, his voice miles away from taking her out of her self-imposed trance.

-I'm sorry, I got a bit distracted. - She shook her head, trying to focus on the conversation, and Aemond turned his face to the side, smiling discreetly at the action. - What did you say?

-We'll meet to start work.

-Oh, yes, yes. - She nodded thoughtfully. - How about the library?

-I don't study in the library, there are always idiots who go there to make a mess and interfere with concentration. - Aemond rolled his eyes with a frown, making her rack her brain to remember if she had ever messed up in the library.

-Yeah. They're all idiots! - She agreed, rolling her eyes when she came to the conclusion that she hadn't done anything wrong in the college library.

-We can go to my dorm. - Y/n shrugged, trying to be casual. - But my roommate is always there and never turns off the TV.

-Don't you have your own room? - He looked at her confused and Y/n laughed.

-Not all of us can own the campus. - She grimaced and Aemond rolled his eyes.

-Your family has money too.

-Having money is different from being a filthy rich Targaryen. - She grumbled as she gestured lightly with her hands, arching her eyebrows, and Aemond didn't contest her.

-Whatever, let's meet in my dorm, it's empty there and no one will disturb us.

Y/n nodded, subtly biting her lower lip at the idea that she would go to Aemond's room.

-Where is it? - She came back to reality, remembering to ask, and asking her for a pen, Aemond wrote down the number and the floor on the last page of the sketchbook that was on the table.

-See you on Friday. - He murmured, turning around and leaving her as soon as he finished writing, making her sigh once more at hearing that voice so close to her.

♤♡

Y/n did her best to look beautiful in the most disinterested way possible. Just a gray blouse with black denim shorts and a thin black coat on top, her hair tied with a simple clip and just a bit of lipstick. It was almost how she looked every day, except for the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra, but with the coat on top he probably wouldn't even notice that fact.

Apart from the fact that when she got there she discovered that they were fixing the cooling system in Aemond's building and now she was without the coat and wearing only the thin blouse, attracting Aemond's discreet glance at her from time to time.

The two spread their materials across the table in the living room connected to the bedroom and sat on the floor to study. Unfortunately, Aemond was having more trouble concentrating in his own room than in the library, with the sight of Y/n in that blouse in front of him, scribbling drawings on her philosophy book while pretending to read something.

When he finally managed to read a few words, he could hear her melodious laughter from the other side of the table.

-What is it? - He murmured almost in a growl making her become serious.

-It's just that I'm watching and I think my shared dorm room would fit inside yours.- She shrugged and Aemond rolled his eyes without giving a verbal response.

Minutes later, when he went back to reading focused and taking some important notes, her voice rang out once again, distracting him.

-I'm so lazy. - Y/n threw herself onto the philosophy books open on the coffee table in Aemond's dorm room, and he slightly arched his eyebrows.

-You haven't done anything so far. - He grumbled as he took note of an important quote that he would probably use in the future during the work.

-Because this subject is totally boring. - The girl mumbled with her head still lying on the books but now with her face turned towards Aemond looking at him while slowly blinking her eyes feeling a little sleepy. Until now, nothing interesting had happened outside of her imagination.

-Boredom or not, I think it's better to start working on your part, because there's no way I'm going to give you credit for something you didn't do. - Aemond looked at her very seriously while Y/n sulked, crossing her arms under her breasts, slightly drawing the older man's attention there again.

-Are you always this boring, Targaryen? - Y/n snorted, making one of the loose strands of hair fly out of her pretty face.

-This isn't boring, this is justice. - His eyes were still discreetly fixed on the subtle neckline of the gray blouse that Y/n was wearing, except that now she noticed it, feeling her stomach tingle with the idea that Aemond Targaryen was looking at her.

-Talking about justice and being a total pervert. - She slightly pressed her eyes to him while tightening her arms under her breasts, making them more prominent, making Aemond cough with a subtle choke, looking away.

-Mmmm, I wasn't looking at your breasts. - He grunted looking in another direction.

-Ah, you certainly were. - She arched her eyebrows laughing. - If you want to know, women always know when you're looking.

-What's that? A weird sixth sense? - Aemond raised his eyebrows in disbelief, still a little embarrassed for having been caught.

-Something like that. - Y/n shrugged with a slight grimace, but then an idea popped into her head making her subtly bite her lower lip, staring at him as she gathered her courage.

-How about we make a deal? - Y/n was still biting her lower lip without believing she was actually going to say that to him.

-What kind of deal? - Aemond tilted his forehead, confused but interested, while his eyes inadvertently fell once again on her breasts.

-I'll let you be a perv and look at my boobs, and you do my part in this stupid job. - She suggested, slowly poking the hem of her own thin blouse under the attentive gaze of Aemond, who felt his own mouth drying up.

-Mmmm. - He mocked her with an ironic smile. - No deal. This work is almost 30 pages long, I want to at least be able to touch them.

-What? - She narrowed her eyes slightly while arching her right eyebrow now, not believing what he was saying.

-That's right, and you'll be topless while i writing the work. It's that or nothing. - He smiled maliciously as he arched his eyebrows, waiting for her answer, being almost certain that she would give up on the idea.

-Gods, you're more perv than I thought. - She grumbled, staring at him with a frown as she tried to process the fact that Aemond Targaryen really had asked to touch her boobs.

-Do we have a deal? - Aemond asked, still with a dirty smile on his face, and Y/n rolled her eyes at him, mumbling something to herself, unable to call him an idiot since she had given him the idea.

-We have a deal. - She spoke firmly, feeling soft shivers down her thighs as she said this, making Aemond subtly widen his eyes in shock at her accepting. - But… I don't want to read a single sentence about this subject, I don't want to know about these idiot philosophers and much less about their silly theories.

-These aren't silly theories… - Aemond rolled his eyes condescendingly at the girl's lack of understanding on such an important subject, it almost affected the crush he had on her… almost.

-Ah. - She cut him off instantly. - I don't want to know. Deal?

-Deal. - He grimaced in slight disgust, if she weren't so hot it wouldn't be worth all the effort, Aemond thought rolling his eyes.

With a sigh Y/n pulled the gray blouse of thin fabric over her head leaving her bare breasts exposed to Aemond's hungry and raw gaze that made her skin crawl almost instantly.

The moment she took off her blouse, Aemond took away his previous thought. She was certainly worth the effort and he would definitely do a thousand jobs like that just to take a look at those breasts.

Feeling confident under his gaze Y/n sat on the two-seater sofa and once again crossed her arms under her now bare breasts while looking at him with one of her eyebrows raised.

Taking a deep breath, Aemond sat down next to her, staring at that beautiful pair of breasts that he could say for sure were the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on in his life.

-Can I? - He reached out his hands to her breasts, but stopped just before touching them, wanting her to be one hundred percent sure of what she was doing. And when the girl nodded positively while biting her lower lip and subtly pressing her legs together, he touched his palms, feeling her soft breasts and almost moaning at the soft sensation.

Little by little he moved his hands while looking at her with a very serious look, and with the tips of his thin fingers he began to massage her erect nipples with increasing dedication, observing the responses her body gave him. Every soft tremor, every subtle gasp, every press and rub of her thighs against each other.

-They're perfect. - He praised softly as he stimulated them, eliciting a soft moan from Y/n who bent down even more offering her own breasts to Aemond.

She was lost in his touches, so gentle yet so demanding. No one had ever given her so much pleasure just by touching her breasts, and Y/n wanted to moan with pleasure but was holding herself back so as not to seem so given. She pressed her eyes tightly, feeling the shocks of pleasure running through her body and going straight down to her completely soaked pussy.

Suddenly, with her eyes still closed, Y/n felt Aemond's warm breath close to her skin, and opened her eyes at the same moment, looking at him.

-What are you doing? - She gasped, looking directly into that blue eye that had left her fascinated since the first time she saw it and that now looking so closely she thought it contained some violet reflections.

-I said I wanted to touch, you didn't specify just using of hands. - He murmured dirtyly, lowering his mouth over Y/n's breasts and sucking deeply on her excited nipple, which curved her back against the couch, finally moaning loudly in pure contentment.

-Oh Aemond please more. - She whimpered, writhing and pressing her thighs together. - So good... so good.

From that moment on, it was impossible for her to contain her own moans, his mouth felt so incredible against her already sensitive nipples. With each suction she trembled and tightened her thighs while gripping the sofa tightly, almost digging her nails into the upholstery.

-By the gods, you have the tastiest tits I've ever tasted in my life. - Aemond moaned between the hungry sucks and firm, desperate caresses, sending a new wave of pleasure over her as she heard those words. And without control over her own body, Y/n put her hands in Aemond's hair, tangling her fingers there and holding her head against herself as she moaned his name in despair.

Her pulling on his hair did something almost wild to Aemond, he usually didn't like it when people pulled his hair, but at that moment… Fuck, it really felt good. And when she started moaning his name in a completely lacking way while rubbing her pussy on the couch like a desperate bitch in heat, he felt himself on the edge.

While he sucked and licked her left nipple, caressing the right one with his hand, drawing waves and waves of pleasure from her, he guided his vacant hand inside the gray sweatpants he was wearing and finally paid attention to his cock, which was leaking and making a mess against the fabric of his boxers.

He violently fucked his cock against the left hand while still inside his pants while inevitably moaning against Y/n's nipple, making her rub even harder against the sofa.

-Aemond. - Came Y/n's broken voice in a moan that was almost a whimper as she shuddered without control over her own body, writhing on the couch, feeling the unbridled pleasure of the orgasm taking over her.

And hearing her beg for his name as she writhed in the midst of orgasm, Aemond reached his own peak of pleasure, spurting against his own hand in thick, strong jets, moaning with contentment against Y/n's sensitive, reddened nipples.

The two remained motionless for a few moments, just trying to regain their senses completely taken over by the debilitating pleasure. Y/n's mind went completely blank as she laid her head on the back of the sofa, still panting, completely shocked since she had never cum just by stimulating her nipples. And Aemond, in turn, tried to regain his composure with his head still buried between his classmate's delicious breasts.

And when he finally raised his head, he couldn't resist the temptation to suck her nipple once more, making her gasp with overstimulation.

-Oh, Aemond. - She sighed complainingly, lightly pushing his head away with the palm of her right hand. - They're sensitive.

-Mmmm. - He murmured caressing her naked waist. -I could suck your tits for hours if you let me.

-I could let you. - She gasped, pretending to be uncertain about the subject even though she was still sensitive to his touch, feeling the inside of her thighs tingling amid the scandalous moisture in her panties.

-Well, it's 30 pages. - He shrugged, moving his caresses up and down her waist. - And as far as I know, the pairs that Hayford assigned are until the end of the semester.

-We'll have plenty of time. - He kissed her nipple once more, making her sigh.

[ackermai07]

Hi! Could you write a one shot for Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima where the class is watching a movie or something at the dorms and their crush falls asleep on them? I can see the boys getting all blushy when she unconsciously snuggles up closer to them 🥰🥰

Thank you!

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵒᵇᵃˡᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗ ᵘᵍʰʰʰʰʰ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ⁱᵗ

wearning! : pure fluff

Don't repost please!!

"Is everyone ready?"

Mina shouted, making sure everything was set and everyone was prepared.

In short, what was happening was that tomorrow is a holiday, and after a tiring week, the girls suggested the idea of watching a movie (the kind you like), staying up late, and enjoying themselves to compensate for the positive energy lost through training and studying, and of course, everyone agreed.

𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶

The surprise was how this early-to-bed, serious guy had actually agreed to this silly movie night offer, but of course, no one dared to comment on it (they didn't want to be the reason for him changing his mind).

"Tsk... why on earth did I agree to watch this stupid movie in the first place," Bakugo muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where the movie was playing. Truthfully, he knew the reason he was here- 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

Bakugo had always admired your confident, composed, and intelligent personality, to the point where he found himself gradually falling for you, struggling to break free from its grasp.

Another annoyed sigh escaped his lips, feigning irritation as usual, but deep down, he was genuinely happy to be sitting next to you on the couch, able to inhale your soothing scent.

It didn't take another minute before he felt a weight on his shoulder. His eyebrow raised in confusion, and when he turned his head to see, he was met with your lovely, soft face resting on his shoulder. The boy swore he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, and for a moment, he stopped thinking, just staring at you with flushed cheeks, thankfully unnoticed in the dimmed lights.

"Oi... you," he said in his rough tone, which seemed calmer, then lightly shrugs trying to wake you up. "You'll miss the damn movie... wake up."

Meanwhile, all he got in response was a sleepy nuzzle from you, moving closer to hug his side more, enjoying the warmth emanating from him.

Poor Bakugo stopped his movements and froze in place for about a few minutes. The first to notice was Kirishima, who turned to see what was up with his friend.

"Hey Baku-bro, what's wro..."

And there Kirishima caught sight of your sleeping form next to him, a wide grin spreading across his face. Even before he spoke, Bakugo silently gestured to him, thus ensuring he stayed close to you for a longer period.

He absentmindedly played with your hair, eliciting contented hums from you, which seemed to draw the attention of the entire class towards you two. Oh, and don't worry about any commotion; once Bakugo gives them the death glare, they'll turn away without saying a word.

(half of the class has fallen asleep already, anyway).

By the end of the movie, he didn't even realize he had fallen asleep, his head resting on yours, inhaling your refreshing scent and feeling your warmth.

(This incident might actually serve as a strong incentive for him to hurry up and confess to you as soon as possible).

𝗧𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗶 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗼

It was known that Shoto often found himself in these kinds of nights, spending time with his friends, and with you, the love of his life.

Both of you attended the same middle school, and there were many clashes between you, but at that time, Shoto was only focused on his deep-seated hatred for his father.

Now, at U.A. High School, he found the time to develop his feelings for you, thus becoming immersed in love for you.

And there he was now, on the floor in front of the TV, covered with blankets for comfortable seating. You were sitting beside him, and oh, how difficult it was for him to focus on the movie content with you so close.

He also threw sidelong glances at you, admiring your focused face on the screen, and your slightly parted lips from concentrating so hard on the events. Honestly, he wished desperately to overwhelm your lips with kisses until you couldn't breathe (you can't really blame him).

As he was lost in his fantasies, he suddenly felt something descending onto his lap. And guess what? It was your head being placed on his lap.

The poor boy's brain stopped functioning as he tried to process what had just happened.

(He also felt like his heart stopped for a moment.)

"Y/n... y-you okay?" Shoto whispered softly to you, making sure only you could hear him, and his hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, while a terrible blush spread across his cheeks.

The poor boy wasn't used to being affectionate :(

"Very... sleepy," was your only response as you hugged his waist and snuggled closer to his left side where warmth emanated.

Let's say he miraculously managed to control his quirk so as not to accidentally hurt you.

Meanwhile, the boy's heart swelled with emotions, and he found himself gently stroking your hair, a small smile adorning his handsome face.

And as soon as the movie ended, he carried you bridal-style and took you to your room under Momo's guidance, making sure not to wake you up at all.

On the other hand, he couldn't sleep a wink that night, but be prepared to receive the most beautiful confession in your life soon.

Bonus points: His desire to kiss you became unbearable.

𝗞𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮 𝗘𝗶𝗷𝗶𝗿𝘂𝗼

He was one of the biggest supporters of the idea, especially since you were the one who suggested it, so of course he would always support your opinion.

He always did, seeing you as a fun person who radiated warmth like the sun, an optimistic personality he fell for boundlessly.

You were always a source of inspiration for him with your positive energy, encouraging him and praising his perseverance, and in return, he gave you the brightest smile.

His friends somehow learned about his secret admiration for you (Mina was the reason... ahem)

and they always tried to involve you both more to bring you closer together.

This event was no different as they made sure you two were close to each other, leaving the couch for you to sit on together.

(Kaminari was included to sit next to Kirishima just to make it less suspicious.)

Now, in the middle of the movie, just like Shoto, he couldn't focus at all.

He was just captivated by the little sounds you made whenever an exciting scene came up or your eyes sparkled with interest at what was shown on the screen in front of you.

He was literally in his own world, worshiping your facial expressions and your gentle demeanor.

But at some point, he stopped paying attention to you, replacing it with discussing the details of the movie with Kaminari. Then, in a sudden moment, he felt something land on his chest... it was your head.

The boy quickly covered his mouth to suppress the scream that was about to burst from the depths of his heart.

In contrast to the two above, he had a quick response as he gently shook your shoulder.

"Y/n, y-you awake?" His voice came out as a somewhat quiet tune, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Sorry... feeling sleepy... just... a little nap." After that, you held onto his arm and used his muscular chest as a pillow, drifting back to sleep.

Because of your action, his quirk activated for a few seconds, and he slapped his own face out of embarrassment and happiness he felt.

Your sudden move caught the red-haired boy off guard to the point he didn't know how to react :(

"Yes, of course... it wouldn't be manly of me to move and disturb you," he muttered to himself in embarrassment, stiffening in his position before wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

But he forgot about Kaminari, who saw everything and struggled to suppress his laughter as he ran away, catching the attention of the class, only to stare at both of you in awe and admiration.

All I can say is that by tomorrow, you'll see plenty of pictures taken of you sleeping on Kirishima, and his friends endlessly teasing him about it.

Then get ready for his confession of his feelings for you.

ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ

ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ

sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

[fanfictilltheend]

❤️‍🔥Violent Heart Part 2:  ♪Remember when I moved in you, and the holy dove was moving too ♫ (or the VERY DARK Stepdad!Mechanic!Covict!Joel x Afab!you one)❤️‍🔥

Hi I apologize that a lot of these reference pics are just of white girls. I tried to find "aesthetic" images that go with the story but so many of them are just of white people and I want to call myself out for this because in the fic's only descriptors are that she has hair and is AFAB -- nothing about race. I also realize that all of the girls in this are skinny too and Y/N's body type is never specified. Sorry fam!! These images are just to get the creative juices flowing and don't truly depict anything from the fic!!

A/n: It’s here!!!!!! 18+ Only. This took me 7 freaking months so you mofos better like, reblog, and comment. This is both my most and least personal fic I’ve ever written and it is dark and relies heavily on plot (smut this time tho!!) READ ALL OF THE TAGS DO NOT COME FOR ME UNLESS YOU DID THIS FR FR. This ones for my dark joel fangirlies(guys and NBies) and the daddy issues fam ily ❤️‍🔥 (also not me naming my fic in part after hallelujah by leonard cohen but there is a reason!!!!!!!!!!)

Summary: Part 2 picks up with Y/N at age 20 and how her relationship with Joel has changed and gets steamier.  SMUT and feelings <3 Also check out this playlist of music that’s in the fic!!!!

Tags (PLEASE READ): Afab!you, pov change, Infidelity, threats, age gap, dressing Joel up (swear I wrote this before he wore that outfit to the SAG awards — the mr.Darcy-core one), racist comment (from Y/N’s douchey boyfriend), douchey boyfriend, confidence issues, feelings, voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), kissing, penis in vagina sex — unprotected (wear a condom), lightest hint of ass play, scar worship?? kinda??, daddy issues, daddy kink, using music lyrics to move the plot, multiple orgasms (m and f), religion and god discussions, stepcest (kinda bc technically he is divorced from her mother), tagging psuedo-incest just to be safe!!, use of y/n

Word Count: ~13k

PART 1

AO3 Link

Violent Heart Masterlist

Full Masterlist of all my work

If you’re being honest, you’ve always had a little crush on Joel Miller. How could you not have? The first day you’d met him had been like some kind of fucked up yet extremely satisfying whirlwind of a daydream. He’d come in, broad and tall and strong, and saved you from your evil (though you do love him somewhere deep, deep down) older brother’s onslaught. Protected you like a knight in shining armor from his punching, beating fists. Treated and touched you so tenderly, so many miles different from how your own father did that you’d been hit with whatever the pleasant opposite of whiplash is. And the way he finally punished Aiden after years of his reign of terror, the violence of it, the justice of it. You didn’t have words for it then, but the way you looked into Joel’s eyes when he was doling out that righteous punishment became some kind of strange secret understanding between the two of you. Maybe it was the first sign of love? You aren’t sure.

As a kid, he’d given you what you like to think of as quiet butterflies. They were always there when he spoke to you, looked at you, touched you, beat the shit out of your father and brother for you, but they were faint enough that you could ignore them. It was a comforting, fluttering kind of love, a gradual understanding of your loyalty to one another. But then puberty hit and the insects became incessantly loud when you thought of, wrote to, or talked to him. They ate at your heart day after day while Joel was in prison – the longing, the missing. Aiden told you that you were obsessed with him. Your mother told you to forget him, that he would forget you. But somehow, he didn’t. You wonder if those bugs live in him too. You wonder if they are quiet or loud and if they gnaw .

You think that they are probably loud. You think this for a few reasons. The first is that you know for a fact, you can feel it in the lining of your soul, and from the evidence of his constant correspondence and care for you, that he is just as obsessed with you as you are with him. The second reason is the fact that you think but aren’t one hundred percent sure is that the last time you’d hugged him he’d gotten a little hard (you don’t want to think too much into that because he is only a man who had been deprived of touch for a long time – but still you wonder…). And the third is the way he looks at you like you are the universe like you are the last drop of nectar and he is the last butterfly left on Earth in a famine. 

That’s how he’s looking at you now in the passenger seat of his old, clunky pickup. You know that he wanted to drive, but you wanted to show him how well you could because he had never seen. Never had the chance to see how well you had fixed, maintained, and took care of his baby and of course he gave into you like he always does. He's smiling at you quietly, but his eyes contain multitudes. Right now mostly pride at your driving.

Joel is a bit different than how you remember sitting near him in the truck the last time you were together, him as a free man, you as a little girl. Somehow, even though you are obviously bigger now, he still seems massive and broad and stronger than ever. His biceps are huge – probably from all the time he had to work out in prison – and peeking out under his blue t-shirt that you brought for him, you think you see the outlines of some tattoos. You look a little closer. On his right arm is text in curvy black ink. You think it reads, “Sarah.” You smile softly at that. On his other arm is a strange orange shape that you have to squint at to understand. The edges of the object are jagged but they form a shape like a badge – and then you know what it is! It is the guitar pick you made for Joel as a child. The one that had pricked his finger and drawn blood and he stuck it in his wallet. You can’t articulate how honored you feel that Joel loved you enough to tattoo something you made for him on his body, permanently, forever. 

“ Well , the light only turned green damn near eons ago,” he complains about your driving, but you know he is just teasing.

There is hardly anything wrong you can ever do in Joel’s eyes. He grins at you a bit lopsidedly and you smile back. You also can’t help but notice the greying of his brown hair. It’s a bit longer than it used to be too and the length gives it a little bit less of a shaggy look. You think it suits him, makes him look a bit older and more distinguished than when he first came into your life twelve years ago. 

Objectively, you know it’s weird to think that your ex-stepdad who is a convicted felon is hot, but it’s just something you’ve always known and thought like that the sky is blue or that orange is your favorite color. You know it’s weird to think of someone who was? – is? – supposed to be a father figure to you that way, but it’s already second nature at this point. You’ve had a few boyfriends (luckily all of them had treated you right), but none of the feelings you’ve ever had for them have compared to the cosmic-sized love and affection you have for Joel and you’ve never known anything different. The years you spent longing, missing, loving, obsessing over, and aching for him in every way under the sun, can’t be healthy, you know this, but they have eclipsed practically every other relationship in your life. No one has ever made you feel as safe and protected and loved as Joel has. No one else has ever looked at you the way he does. No one else’s entire existence has revolved around you the way his has. The sheer devotion in his gaze is enough to make the butterflies inside you scream and beat their wings against your insides like hungry bats. 

And you especially know you shouldn’t have these feelings about another human being violent enough to be capable of taking a life – inebriated or not. You’re grown now and know the man he killed was a scum-of-the-Earth child predator, and secretly you’ve always wondered if there was more to the story than Joel told the police in the official court transcripts you’d read as an adult, maybe even something to do with you since you had been there that day in the repair shop when they met , but you haven’t pressed because you’re sure the whole thing is quite traumatic for Joel and if he ever wants to tell you, you know he will. And more importantly, you don’t really care. Drunken, violent idiot or not, you were already deeply invested and never intended on wavering in that. You’re not sure there’s anything Joel could do to get you to stop loving him and that both terrifies and excites you. 

“Okay, whatcha wanna eat?” you ask, reaching out to rub Joel’s shoulder gently. “Now that you’re free you can have whatever you want! On my mom’s credit card of course. Swear I won’t tell her.”

Joel grins.

“Deal,” he tells you. “I was thinking of a nice steak dinner.”

***

You pull into the fanciest restaurant you can find in the tri-state area and sit down to order a regal, all-American, full three-course steak dinner (though you’re both woefully underdressed – not that you care – though the host gives you a dirty look). All the while, you tell Joel about your major (psychology) and how you want to become a counselor for abused children.

“That’s sort of beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you with a genuine smile that used to be so hard to coax from him, but now seems to float over to you so easily and gently like a kiss from something as soft as the wings of a butterfly. “Wanting to help defenseless children. You’re kinda like a guardian angel for them, ya know? Damn proud of ya! Also, these mashed potatoes are goddamn delectable!” he exclaims after taking an experimental bite. “Have I mentioned that prison food is shit?”

You smile bashfully and want to tell him that he is your guardian angel (you wonder if he thinks the same of you) and inspiration in a backward sort of way for wanting to help kids in the first place since he was so good at protecting you for the most part (though you obviously don’t believe violence is the correct answer in your line of future work). But kids need protectors. Somehow you know that deep down you forgive him for all of the violence he caused because you would forgive him for anything. And him being proud of you? You don’t think there’s a better feeling in the world than that! You burst with pride. Your real father never said that to you, but Joel doesn’t feel like your father now. He is something different entirely. Something that entirely belongs to you.

“And you’ll meet my boyfriend, Max, tomorrow,” you nod as Joel moves onto the steak and lets out a soft moan at how good it tastes. “He’s heard a lot about you.”

Joel’s face flattens.

“And who is this kid exactly?” he sneers a little, attacking the steak with his knife. 

You smile internally at the obvious jealousy he’s trying to hide from his voice.

“Hey, Max is a decent guy!” you insist in his defense. “He’s pre-law. Real smart. He’s gonna be an important person someday, I know it. You’ll get on.”

That last part is a bit of a lie since you’re not sure the two will actually like each other. 

Joel examines your face, looks deep into your eyes.

“All I know is, just because someone is important, don’t mean they’re good to you or for you for that matter.” 

You can’t help but think of your father, the most “important” man you know and how much of a degenerate he is compared to someone ostensibly average like Joel who didn’t even have a status symbol like a college degree and how perfect of a man you think he is, despite his obvious flaws. You blush a little, scrunching up your nose. 

“Just lookin’ out for you, sweetheart,” he continues, smiling at the way you do. “He ever fuck with you – he ever break your heart, you know just where to send him, alright?”

“Yeah, Joel,” you grin. “Don’t need you getting any more jail time though, alright?” “You may have made a valid point,” he concedes with a smirk. 

***

When you two enter your shitty, one-bedroom apartment it’s already dark outside. Joel actually grins when he notices his and your guitars have both been mounted on the wall. 

“We can play ‘em tomorrow,” you tell him excitedly. “If you want to, I mean…”

“Hell yeah, I do,” Joel smiles. “Wanna hear ya singing for me, honey. I missed that.”

You smile to yourself.

“You can have my bed, and I’ll take the couch,” you decide, getting back to business. 

“No way, babygirl. I ain’t taking your bed.”

“Joel, you’ve literally been on a prison mattress for eight fucking years! Can’t imagine that’s been very comfortable.”

“That’s exactly why I won’t mind the couch. That’ll feel like heaven to me. Don’t want you messin’ up your back, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth, but Joel beats you.

“And that’s that,” he insists. 

“Alright, alright,” you concede, knowing by the look on his face he’s not budging. If one thing, Joel has always been stubborn, but you like that about him. “D’you wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Actually, baby, if ya don’t mind, I’d like a quick shower. Been dreaming about taking a real, private one for ages.”

“Yeah, of course!” you nod, motioning toward your bathroom door. “Towels are under the sink.”

Joel makes his way inside and soon steam is billowing out the bottom of the door. 

You busy yourself with some homework, but just as you walk past the door to grab a glass of water, you think you hear Joel singing.

You listen more closely over the fall of the running water and make out him singing the chorus of an old ABBA song with a deeper, sadder tone to it,

♪ “ Slipping through my fingers all the time / I try to capture every minute / The feeling in it / Slipping through my fingers all the time / Do I really see what's in her mind? / Each time I think I'm close to knowing / She keeps on growing / Slipping through my fingers all the time…” ♫

You feel like such a sap, but you feel a tear forming in your eye at the way Joel must be thinking about his and your relationship and everything he missed in your life. You aren’t mad at him, but his absence hurt in a way you didn’t know you could feel. And you’ve never blamed him, really, but the lack of him for eight years of milestones really did kill a piece of you. You can’t help but imagine a butterfly at the bottom of your stomach with its wings pulled off. That’s how you felt all that time without Joel – like a butterfly without wings. A writhing worm of a human being, senseless and lost in a giant world full of forces you couldn’t control. 

You listen to Joel’s beautiful, deep voice until you hear him turn off the tap and you scurry away and act innocent. 

Joel emerges from the bathroom then with nothing but a white towel around his waist, steam from the shower floating lazily into the room behind him like precession. And oh, wow, is he ever a sight to behold. His hair is wet, dark brown flecked with grey, and starting to get curly from the moisture. You also can’t help but notice his broad chest, the expanse of it, the dark curls of hair, his bulking, muscular tattooed arms, his soft, hairy tummy, the V-shape of muscle that descends beneath the towel, his happy trail. You are overwhelmed by the soaking beauty of him. You’d seen Joel shirtless before, sure, but it had never felt like this . 

“Gon’ grab some of those clothes you bought for me and then maybe we could watch something?” Joel asks as you try so fucking hard not to stare at him.

“Sure!” you squeak, staring down at your notebook at the kitchen counter. 

You think you see a smirk from Joel, but you're not sure because your gaze is averted as he grabs some clothes to change into and disappears back into the bathroom.

When he reemerges, dressed in a wifebeater and shorts that accentuate his form, you two sit next to each other on your cushy sofa and surf the TV for something to watch. You feel Joel’s hairy knees against your jean-clad one and your heart flutters.

“Can’t believe I’m really here,” Joel says softly as you pass re-runs of Full House, a dog show. “Like I gotta fuckin’ pinch myself to know it’s not a dream.”

Suddenly you feel a large, weathered hand on your cheek.

“Missed you so much, babygirl,” he murmurs, looking into your eyes, massaging the line of your jaw ever so lightly, trying to hold your skittish gaze. “More than I even have words for.”

First, you avoid looking at him a bit bashfully, but then you stare up cautiously into those big brown eyes that feel like a familiar kind of home and you’re such a goner. You lean into his warmth, the warmth of his hand.

“Missed you too, Joel. So much,” you admit, never wanting this moment to end or him to let go of you. “More than anything.”

He leans forward a little and for a second you think…but then he’s leaning in and planting a heavy kiss on your forehead. A kiss that has weight to it – not those soft, weak ones that Max gives you haphazardly when he’s drunk or high – the only time he’s brave enough to be vulnerable with you. This kiss says something, means it so sincerely too. 

“Love you, honey,” he tells you. Then his face falls. “Sorry I…wasn’t quite there to say that to you enough in person.”

“It’s okay, Joel. I forgive you,” you insist. “I love you so much, dummy. More than you even know!”

But you truly do appreciate the sentiment. 

***

You settle on an old, black and white classic, Paper Moon, that’s playing on the TV Land channel.

Joel wraps a big arm around you and you snuggle close. You’re pretty sure there isn’t a better feeling in the world than being this close to him. Even after all these years he still smells like Joel; like home (and, if you’re being honest, a bit like your vanilla shampoo) .

You lean against him, your cheek pressing into one of his firm pecs. You begin to feel sleepy, drunk on the steady sound of his heartbeat, alive and beating against you and really here . 

You nod off.

***

At first, you don’t believe it, but you feel someone with strong, firm arms lifting you into the air, cradling your back and the insides of your knees in a bridal-style carry. The movement wakes you, but you don’t open your eyes because the safety and security you feel is too good to give up. Joel carries you to your bedroom and lays you down gently in your bed. You’re still in day clothes and shoes so Joel takes off your worn sneakers with a feather-light touch and places them at the foot of the bed – you can tell from the soft thumps it makes. He maneuvers you so tenderly under the covers and tucks you in with love and care. You wonder the last time someone did that for you and pull up a blank. If anyone ever did that for you it was probably Joel. Maybe your mom did when you were really young. Certainly your father nor Aiden ever did – your father hadn’t liked to touch you except out of anger – kind of like you had some kind of weird, contagious disease. Aiden’s hands had almost always hurt too, but not Joel’s – never his. 

He breaks you from your thoughts by pressing another kiss to your forehead. Your eyes are still closed so you aren’t sure, but you think he watches you for a second and lets out a long sigh. 

Then you hear your bedroom door close softly so as not to disturb you. You smile, you can’t help it, and drift back off into a peaceful sleep.

***

You wake up to a mumbling, grunting sort of sound. You look over at your clock and read 3:42 a.m. You sit up. You can kind of hear some muffled noises coming from outside your room. At first, you feel a little concerned – like maybe Joel is in pain or something as he is the only one who could be making the noises. The walls in your apartment are paper-thin. Like you could hear him sneeze clear as day if he were to because sound travels through the shitty walls so easily. You should have told him that. But what the fuck is he doing up at 3 a.m.? 

You creep (and you mean creep) silently to the door of your bedroom and open it the tiniest crack. The way your apartment is laid out, the back of the sofa is the first thing you see and the back of Joel’s head about six feet away. He doesn’t sound in pain the way he’s groaning and then you understand exactly what he’s doing. Of course the man is jerking off! After being in prison, stuck around people for so long of course he wanted a good, private wank. He isn’t looking at anything from what you can tell, no magazines or anything. Must be using his imagination. You wonder what he’s thinking about, if he’s gotten good at that over the years.

You should turn around, slink back into bed, and cover your ears with a pillow so the man can have some privacy. But, fuck, the way he’s grunting. His voice is so fucking deep and sexy and then he lets out a soft, vulnerable moan and you feel heat envelope your whole body. You think you hear a soft fuck roll off his tongue and your heart almost beats right out of your chest. You can hear the lewd slapping of his fist on skin getting louder and more intense. Then you hear a soft take it, fuck. And Jesus, you are so fucking wet between your thighs. You ought to be ashamed. Instead, you reach down your hand feverishly beneath the band of your jeans and soaking underwear instinctively to stroke yourself ever so slightly. You sigh in relief, but you are fucking gushing, your fingers covered in your slick. You can’t see anything besides the back of Joel’s head, technically, so this couldn’t be that wrong, could it? He lets out a soft groan, you can tell he’s holding back so as not to be heard, but the desperation in the pathetic little noises this hulking man is making is turning on every switch inside you. Oh how you want to go over there and take him in your mouth, to taste him. God you are so fucked up! You’re still touching yourself gently, not really fully going at it yet, considering the possibilities that could follow if you went over there. But before you can decide to do anything, Joel positively whines, moans, and grunts fuck, unh, and you think but aren’t sure, babygirl, and finishes.

You stop dead still in what you’re doing. Did he really say “babygirl” or was that just your horny-ass imagination playing tricks on you? You’ve never heard Joel call anyone babygirl except you. Was he really thinking of you? On the one hand, if true, mega fucked up. On the other, wow, incredibly hot. You think about going over there and asking him to finish you off or something as crazy as in all those dumb romance novels you used to read in middle school, but just as quickly as the idea comes to you, you hear another noise: loud snoring. Joel is asleep.

Typical.

You snort to yourself. That was so quintessentially Joel. You don’t want to disturb him now. The moment has passed. And only then is when you remember you have a fucking boyfriend. 

That doesn’t stop you from closing your door softly, crawling back into bed, and reaching your hand down beneath your panties to touch yourself. You stroke your clit, imagining it is Joel’s rough hand rubbing against you. Holy fuck. You haven’t been this wet since you used to touch yourself thinking about him in the past. It’s like he can reach every part of you, every layer in a way that no one else can. You know the whole thing is so fundamentally fucked up, but you can resist sinking into your favorite fantasy. The smell, the touch, the feel of him. You imagine the noises he was making so beautifully on the couch, feel heat coil through your entire body, and immediately cum hard without even sticking a finger inside yourself. 

The pleasure you feel is so unparalleled and real you have to cover your hand with your mouth not to scream out your powerful orgasm. 

Sweat drenches your whole body as you come down. 

God, you are so fucked.

***

The next morning you wake up to the wafting smell of someone cooking eggs. You emerge from your room a little sheepishly from last night’s events to find Joel behind the kitchen counter making eggs and toast. 

“Mornin’, babygirl,” he grins, his eyes shining like he’s excited about something.

And then you realize: that something is you.

You grin back.

“Good morning, Joel,” you beam at him.

You were so afraid things would feel awkward after what you heard last night, but nothing ever feels awkward with Joel. In some ways, he’s still just your average dorky, friendly old ex-stepdad, convicted felon. In other ways, everything about him sets your heart on fire, but it would be stupid to ruin what you have with him because you think it’s remotely possible he might be interested back. You know this is dramatic, but if he flat-out rejected you, you think you might die. Truly. Like those butterflies inside you would beat their wings so hard they’d burst your heart.

“‘Membered you liked ‘em poached,” he nods, breaking you from your thoughts. 

He scoops two poached eggs onto one of your plates and grabs a piece of toast from the toaster which he smears with butter like how you used to eat toast as a kid. You can’t believe he remembered.

“Thanks so much,” you tell him.

He grabs a few eggs and toast for himself and sits beside you at the counter. 

“Nice to be able to cook me ‘n you some real food,” he remarks. “If I eat one more cup o’ noodles in my lifetime I swear to God Almighty…” he trais off.

He’s looking at you like you put the goddamned sun in the sky. Your heart melts as you stare at his features, the faint curls in his hair. Oh, how you want to reach out and touch him. But that just isn’t how you operate. You won’t ruin what you already have.

The butterflies in your chest howl. 

***

` You lay out the day’s schedule to Joel. You have plenty of time to hang about (you see him eyeing the guitars), and then you need to go shopping for some actual clothes for Joel since the things you brought for him don’t constitute a proper wardrobe. Then you will go out to dinner and meet Max. 

Joel grunts a nod at that last part. He doesn’t seem too thrilled.

“Wanna show me what you’ve been playing?” he asks hopefully as he gets up to put both of your plates in the sink,

“‘Course!” you nod enthusiastically. “Max says I need to work on my fingerpicking so I can’t promise it’ll be all that good.”

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Show me what you’ve got.”

***

You sit down on the couch right next to Joel, each of you holding your respective guitars in hand, across your laps. 

Joel looks ecstatic to have his guitar back in his hands. He fiddles with the tuning and finger-picks a faint melody.

“Haven’t played one since the prison band. But then some dumb motherfucker clobbered another sorry son of a bitch to death with a saxophone so that ended our music privileges,” Joel explains. 

“Jeez,” you reply.

Joel is sitting so close you can feel his body heat. You just want to hear him sing, but he insists on hearing you.

“Joel,” you try as innocently as possible. “D’you remember how to do an A-flat? I forget and I need it for my song.”

“Sure, baby. Lemme help ya. Now put one finger on this bit of the 4th fret here,” he begins, snaking a big arm around your shoulders so he can maneuver your fingers to the correct position. 

His touch is electric. He feels so good and warm. You feel the intense urge to climb into his lap and embrace and stay there forever. His big caloused hand full of scars places your fingers correctly for the chord. The same hand that must have jerked himself to completion last night…You can’t help but wonder how much cum there was…The truth is, you know how to make an A-flat. You just wanted to feel him.

He backs away and you whine internally at the loss.

“There we go,” he says soothingly, reaching out to rub your shoulder. “That one can be tricky. Now where is my performance?”

Your nerves are squirming around inside you but you begin to play and sing to the best of your ability. 

You look into Joel’s eyes.

♪“ You've got a heart on fire / It's bursting with desire / You've got a heart filled with passion /  Will you let it burn for hate or compassion?” ♫ you sing. 

Joel watches you intently, sitting up straighter. 

♪ “What's the point with a love / That makes you hate and kill for? ♪

You sing as best and as seriously as you can. You look up and think you maybe see a tear in Joel’s eye.

When you finish, it’s clear Joel is finding it hard to select the right words to convey what he’s feeling. 

“I–” he tries. “That was…well, let me just show you how I can answer that if anyone ever could to a performance as beautiful as that.”

You blush. 

He begins to finger-pick a familiar tune, Instantly, you are transported back to eight years old in the back of Joel’s old pickup truck, listening to one of his many cassette tapes. It’s “I’ll Never Find Another You” by The Seekers. The original version of the song is pretty happy and upbeat, but the way Joel sings it slowly in his deep and weathered voice makes you feel sad and achy inside. The emotion behind his voice is palpable.

♪ “But if I should lose your love, dear / I don't know what I'd do / For I know I'll never find another you / Another you / Another you…” ♫ he trails off.

It’s your turn to tear up a little. It’s crazy to know he means every word he’s singing too. He sings like every word is his last breath. When he finishes you are crying a little.

“You oughta record an album,” you sniffle, leaning into his shoulder, throwing him a side hug.

“Wanted to be a singer,” he replies with a small grin, leaning his head against yours. “Back when I was young.” 

You sit back up straight.

“You did? I never knew that.”

“Don’t tell nobody really,” Joel replies, looking a bit sad you left his immediate proximity. “Just a stupid dream ‘n all that crap.”

“‘S not stupid,” you tell him. “You really have a beautiful voice, Joel. It’s like if I could take it, hold on to it, and keep it forever in my chest pocket next to my heart, I would.”

“That’s where I keep you, baby,” he tells you honestly.

He reaches up a big hand to yours and guides your own to place it right on his heart over his plaid shirt. You can feel it beating steadily below your palm to the rhythm of something as delicate and ferocious as the beating of butterfly wings.

“Right here.”

***

You take Joel shopping. At his insistence it is nothing fancy, just the local department store. That doesn’t stop you from dressing Joel up in ridiculous outfits of your choosing. You make him try on a Hawaiian shirt, some golf polos like your dad liked to wear, a pinstripe suit and he lets you because saying no to you has never been in his vocabulary. He acts grumpy on the outside, but you can tell he is amused. You know in the end, you’ll just end up buying every flannel shirt and jeans combo they have in the store, but it’s just fun anyway. You watch the fabric hug his torso, his tummy, the slight bulge at his waist. At one point he comes out shirtless and you try very hard not to swoon as you stare at the hair lining his chest and his adorable little tummy that you for some reason have the urge to bite. The band of his Hanes boxers sticks up past his jeans and he looks so good. He even lets out a genuine smile. The middle-aged sales attendant who is helping you even takes a good look at him which makes the butterflies inside you swarm possessively. 

Finally, you make him try on a proper white-collared button-down shirt and black dress pants with matching black shoes and he looks so good you’re actually at a loss for words when he asks you what you think. They hug the curves and lines and planes of his body so nicely. All you can do is ask him to put on a black tie to match and he does at your behest following some customary griping that he would never wear such a monkey suit in the first place. The effect that a fully dressed-up Joel has on you is not one to be reckoned with. He might as well be wearing the men’s version of lingerie for how it makes you throb and ache between your legs. He looks like a force of nature, commanding and tall. It makes you weak. All you say is,

“Looking good, old-timer.”

He snorts.

When you finally ditch all the fun clothes and grab the essentials, Joel offers to go pick up the car while you pay. He tries to give you his eight-year-old credit card, but you insist on treating him on the condition he buys the “monkey suit.” After a bit of prodding, he gives in and you go to the sales attendant to pay at the counter. 

“Your dad is really cute,” the sales attendant giggles to you as she rings up the pile of clothes. 

Your cheeks go a bit red. You don’t really care enough to correct her.

“He’s my guy,” is all you say absentmindedly as you fish out your wallet from your purse.

The sales attendant hands you the receipt and on it, you see a scrawled phone number.

“For If he’s single,” she explains. “I’m Barb from sales.”

You look her over. She’s close to Joel’s age and conventionally pretty with long brown hair. The exact kind of woman Joel should be dating should he choose to get back in the game. Your stomach twists and the butterflies howl inside you.

You take the receipt, thank her, and join Joel back in the car (who is more than happy to be driving this time). 

“What took so long?” he asks casually. “You two writing a novel in there?”

You think seriously about what you should do. You consider letting the bugs have their way and tearing the receipt with Barb’s number on it to shreds. But you want good things for Joel. The chance of you two ever being together the way you wish is so far-fetched that you know you shouldn’t even be thinking it. A literal pipe dream. He was your stepdad for christsakes. He literally fucked your mother! (Gross!). Barb is exactly the kind of woman Joel should be going after if he’s up to dating right now. You hand him the receipt begrudgingly. 

“Sales Lady likes you,” you sat flatly. “Name is Barb.”

“Oh,” he says softly like he’s a bit flattered. 

He looks back at her through the glass door of the store and she waves at him. He waves back politely. You feel your stomach twisting into knots. 

“You think…you think you’re gonna call her?” you finally ask as casually as humanly possible, dreading the answer. 

Joel looks over at you, his gaze sweeping over you. Then looks back at Barb through the window. He looks her up and down.

“Nah,” he says with a smirk, looking back at you. “She ain’t my type. Only need one girl in my life right now anyways,” he winks.

Was that Joel flirting? With you?

Regardless, you smile back and then sigh in relief and grin to yourself as you two drive away. 

Much to your satisfaction, Joel crumples up the receipt and throws it out the window for good measure. 

***

You get ready for dinner, to go to a nice Mexican-Japanese fusion restaurant that Max picked out. You wear a red dress that accentuates your figure and matching heels and to your shock, Joel reemerges from the bathroom in the white button-down shirt and black dress pants you picked out for him (you had been sure flannel would be part of his ensemble). God, he looks good. A part of you wants to ditch Max and just stay here with Joel forever. He looks you over, his dark eyes sweeping over your frame. You think there is a tinge of possessiveness in his voice when he says,

“ Christ, you look beautiful, babygirl.”

***

You arrive before Max and sit down at the fancy white table-cloth-covered table next to Joel, a booth facing you. Max finally makes an appearance a half hour late and sits down across from you, sweeping his hair out of his face, sliding into the booth. Joel is frowning and the butterflies beat their wings inside you nervously.

“Sorry I’m late,” Max announces, puffing out his chest a little and smoothing out his collared shirt as he looks down at his watch and then over at Joel. “Hey, baby,” he says to you. Then, “And, uh, nice to meet you. Joe, was it? Heard a lot about you.”

“Joel,” Joel replies flatly, eyeing Max.

Max is a good-looking guy, everyone says so, but he looks more like a little boy than you’ve ever thought as he squirms uneasily in his seat under Joel’s unrelenting gaze and launches into a tirade about his frat’s inter-mural lacrosse team practice and how his team should have totally won the scrimmage and that’s why he’s late. And of course, he was the one to score the most goals.

“And the taxi cab driver was a nightmare. Only spoke Spanish. It’s like, if you come to this country speak fucking English, am I right?”

You notice Joel’s jaw tighten and his fingers clench. 

“Max, that’s so rude!” you tell him, frowning. “We’re at a fucking Mexican restaurant!”

“Anyway,” Max continues, rolling his eyes at the interruption like he barely even heard you, smirking. “Where’d you go to school? What do you do for work, Joel?  Besides making license plates, I mean. Kidding!” he insists as you stare daggers at him. 

Joel leans forward ever so slightly but you slip your leg over his to hold him back and he calms down a fraction. It’s like when you touch him, everything tense in him melts away. 

Joel sits up straighter in his chair and looks at you, stretching his arm across the back of your seat protectively like it’s a casual thing and not an unconscious sign of possessiveness.

“I’m a mechanic,” he grunts unceremoniously to Max. “I mean, I was anyways…Didn’t go to school.”

Max frowns ever so slightly. 

“You didn’t go to college? You must’ve gone to trade school at least?”

“Nope. Picked up what I know over the years. Not everyone gets a free ride from their parents,” Joel smirks.

“Free ride?” Max snaps. “I’ll have you know I spend every summer interning at a law firm!”

“Yeah, your dad’s,” you can’t help but snicker.

Max’s cheeks turn a bit pink.

“At least I’m not a psych major,” he shoots back. “I mean, no offense, babe!”

“What’s wrong with psychology?” Joel snarls, his eyes darkening. “You ought to be proud to have such a thoughtful and intelligent girl like Y/N studying such a topic.”

It’s your turn for your cheeks to go pink. 

“Joel–”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Max sneers. 

That makes you feel a bit better. 

“I’m just saying, she could have inherited the second-best law firm in the tri-state area from her pops if she was pre-law like me,” he smirks.

Your smile fades, used to hearing this kind of shit from him. He knows you and your father don’t get along at all, but not the full extent of it. He also knows you don’t have an interest in pre-law. But you swallow down how you really feel.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you tell him, placing a hand down on his thigh.

It’s not that you enjoy the way Max has been talking to you, but you are so used to it from the men in your life that it feels like the common denominator must be you. And sometimes it feels like maybe they have some kind of point. And fighting back only makes things worse. You’ve learned that over the years the hard way.

“It’s not fine!” he snaps like he’s trying to get you to see sense, looking deeply insulted on your behalf. Your heart thunders in your chest. “This boy has never worked an honest day in his life and he’s telling you what you ought to be doing? Bet his hands are soft as a baby’s ass. He doesn’t know shit about you, babygirl.”

You may not know the hardship of labor that Joel has taken on in his life, but your hands are not smooth. They are full of scars. And Joel is right. Max’s are soft like silk. You look down at the most prominent, ugly scar on your middle finger. You don’t even know which man in your life gave it to you. But you do know it means something. Shows you survived something. Survived your stupid father too, not that Max seems to care.

But Max never loses. 

“Whatever,” he smirks dismissively. “Sorry I’m not some, like, common blue-collar worker. But I guess I should be taking advice from someone who became a fucking convicted felon ‘cause they drank too much one night,” he shrugs with a terrible sneer.  

You know it’s over then.

But Joel surprises you. Doesn’t immediately strangle Max like you thought he might. Simply stands up tall and silent over Max’s frame which has suddenly begun to shake ever so slightly in obvious fear, his blue eyes widening. Joel’s fists are clenched tightly at his sides. 

“Wouldn’t mind them sendin’ me right back in, ” Joel growls low. “Drunk or not.”

You shiver and Max positively cowers. 

“Got something to say? Don’t wanna take it outside?” Joel leers, smirking ever so slightly at the trembling boy before him. “I’d even let a little boy like you take the first swing.”

“Your stepdad’s a freak, Y/N,” Max stammers, not taking his eyes off of Joel. 

“Joel, it’s fine, okay?” you growl, not wanting him to actually hurt your boyfriend. Let alone in public! “Shouldn’t talk about Joel like that though, Max! Jesus!”

“Babe, I’m sorry, okay?” Max tries, eyeing back and forth between you and Joel. “I’m just trying to look out for you. I don’t get what you see in him with a real Dad like yours! Your dad has so much to give you!”

Look out for you? So much to give you? What could he possibly give besides a stupid law firm and two black eyes? 

Max looks a bit desperate. Him apologizing for anything is actually a new concept for you. Your heart twitches ever so slightly. He must actually like you a lot. But Joel would never do anything to hurt you if it was in his power. At least not intentionally, unlike your real father. 

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” Joel snarls moodily, turning around. “Don’t want to do things I might regret to Mr.Future-Corporate-Lawyer over here. Have fun with him .”

Joel looks deeply hurt. Like you are choosing Max over him or something. That’s never what this has been about, has it? Doesn’t Joel know you’d do anything for him? That the hurt on his face hurts you more than anything you’ve ever felt. Ever.

“Joel, wait!” you decide and disappear after him, leaving Max behind at the table.

“Babe, what the fuck!?” Max yells, but you don’t care. “Come back here!”

***

You ride back in silence, Joel’s hands turning white against his grip on the steering wheel. 

When you break through to the front door of your apartment, Joel finally snaps, the anger on his face directed at something that feels like you for the first time in your life.

“You really love that little son of a bitch, don’t you?” he sneers, uncharacteristically harshly towards you. 

“So what if I did?” you shoot back, a little shocked. “It’s none of your business, Joel. What the fuck?”

“It is so my business,” he snaps back. “That kid is no good for you, Y/N. He doesn’t understand you. You deserve someone much better than that who will actually go to the ends of the earth for you. He wouldn’t do anything for you.”

There is a desperation and vulnerability in Joel’s words and tone that you’re not sure you’ve heard before. He sounds like he had been waiting the whole car ride to say this, maybe even his whole life. You aren’t sure.

“Max does give a shit about me,” you try to convince yourself, getting angrier. “I mean at least he was there for me while you were gone.”

Joel flinches.

“How do you know what’s so good for me and what’s not when you dipped out of my life for eight years?” you continue harshly. “Because why? It wasn’t because you were drunk, was it? It was because you couldn’t control your anger. You never could.”

He stares at you.

“I controlled it for you,” Joel says so quietly you almost miss it. “ You are the only reason I did any of it.”

“What?” you stammer, not sure you want to hear more. “W-what do you mean, Joel? Any of what?”

A million thoughts begin to run through your mind, but you push them aside. Theories about the case and your ideas of Joel’s true nature all threaten to drown you but you push them away.

“Do you want to know why I really killed that sick son of a bitch?” Joel asks dangerously after a long moment of silence. You stare at him, your body frozen. He looks down at his hands, flexing them like he can still feel them punching or around that disgusting man’s throat. “Why I killed him all those years ago? It was no accident, I’ll give you that. Manslaughter, my ass. I killed that scum of the Earth because he threatened you . To do terrible things to you with those disgusting hands of his. So I broke each one, but it wasn’t enough. I killed him because I didn’t want you to get hurt and because I didn’t want you to live in fear of him. I was tired, Y/N. Tired of being afraid for you in a world that doesn’t let you do shit except fight back. I loved you so much, Y/N, it hurt me. It scared me, but I couldn’t let him hurt you. I’d die before I let anyone hurt you again, not him, not your father, not Max, not anyone. You have to understand. I love –” 

And then it’s all over. You’re not sure who moves first, but you think it might be you. The butterflies are rustling and thundering and screeching inside you and you kiss him. And Joel kisses back, devouring your mouth in his. You grab the back of his graying brown hair and pull him as close to you as you think is humanly possible. He cradles the back of your head so gently you almost lose your breath. And you are kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing. There is nothing else in the universe except this kiss. You have never felt anything like this in your life. It is like every butterfly inside you has gone silent. It is like the world has stopped just for you and something new is forming inside you.

Joel killed that vile man for you. To keep you safe. Like he always said or showed that he would. He gave his life away for you. He did the unspeakable for you.

He bites down on your bottom lip and all your brain can manage to coherently think is: more, harder .

But then Joel is breaking away from you slowly.

NO! your heart cries out, the delicious pleasure and pain draining away from you. The butterflies swarm dangerously inside your chest, worse with every inch he travels from your lips.

“Joel,” you whine. “What? You…you don’t want–”

“Don’t even say that, Y/N,” he growls dangerously. “Of course I want you. How could I not? I have spent my entire life wanting you in some capacity, baby, but I ain’t no good for you either, alright? I…” he says slowly like it takes every inch of his body to agree to say this. “I am not a good man, Y/N. I never have been. I’ve done wrong in every chapter of my life. You deserve someone much better. I don’t want to hurt you. Physically or mentally. Our history… The damage I’ve done…” he trails off.

“You don’t understand,” you swallow, tears forming in your eyes. “You have already loved and hurt me more than any human being on planet Earth. And yet somehow there is nothing you could do that would keep me away from you, don’t you get that? The Joel Miller I love is not a good man and I don’t care. I want all of you. All of the pretty and crooked pieces you try to hide away from me. You killed a man with your bare hands, arguably one of the worst things a human can do, and I don’t care. I still want you, Joel. Maybe even more because of it. No one has ever loved me the way you do and that is the love I want and it terrifies me.”

A single tear falls down Joel’s right cheek. You reach up to wipe it away, but Joel grabs your hand on the way reflexively, so you help him wipe his own tears away. 

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I would move the Earth for you,” Joel whispers back.

“I know,” you nod. “I’ve always known. I–”

But he is kissing you again before you can say another word, like a man starved. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingers caressing his stubbly beard. 

“ Joel,” you whine when you break for air.

“I wanted this so badly,” he says softly, grinning a lopsided grin. “Can’t believe this is real.”

“Me too,” you giggle.

You have to lean up a bit, but you press your forehead to his gently.

“Oh, baby,” Joel smirks. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, ya know that? You like

it when I go a little rough, honey?” he smirks down at you in satisfaction, reading your mind.

You have to stop yourself from getting lost in the warm pools of his brown eyes, your panties soaked.

He reaches an affectionate hand down to rub your side softly.

“This okay, babygirl?” he coos, massaging his hand down your torso.

“I’d let you do anything to me, don’t you know?” you snicker. “Pain or pleasure, it’s all the same to me. I like all of that. I just want you so bad.”

“Think a safe word is in order,” Joel grins, leaning down to kiss your neck. “How about ‘butterflies?’” you suggest. 

“Sounds good to me, baby,” he grins, looking genuinely happy for the first time in hours. 

He leans down and places a calloused hand around your throat, not squeezing (yet – you hope) and plants soft kisses and bites down your expanse of skin. 

“All mine,” he mutters into your skin. “My beautiful babygirl.”

You feel his erection pressing against you through his black dress pants which makes you moan softly.

His hand trails over your crotch and he starts rubbing over the tight fabric of your red dress.

“That okay?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want more, Daddy.”

Oh shit. You don’t mean to say it like that! You know it is about ten levels of fucked up to call Joel that, but how is it your fault that in every fantasy that’s how you think of him? You figure you’re probably past the point of weird and every other standard of decency, but you’re still afraid.

“Sorry…” you mumble. “I–”

“No, no, baby,” Joel says quickly. “It’s alright, you can call me whatever you want. I don’t mind, sweetheart.”

“You think it’s weird,” you mumble again, further stupid tears forming in your eyes.

He snickers. 

“Baby, I think we’re beyond weird at this point. Let me show you how turned on it makes me.”

Joel takes your hand and places it on his crotch. He takes your left hand, the one with the scar and you cringe a little, but he is rock-hard.

That’s good because you’re positively drenched.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Daddy likes that more than you know, alright?”

You take your hand back, smiling, but you cover your scarred finger, shocked he will allow this fantasy for you.

“Whatcha hidin’ from me, baby?” he asks, noticing the positioning of your hands.

“I hate that scar on my finger. ‘S so ugly,” you admit.

Joel looks flabbergasted. 

“That’s the last damn thing I think of when I look at you. Ugly? Who in the fuck told you that?”

“How it got there is ugly. It’s marred skin, looks gross,” you mumble.

Joel moves to take out his cock, and when you nod he unzips and unbuttons his dress pants, pulling out his length. You have fantasized about his cock for god knows how long so you are more than excited to see it. He reaches to place your left hand with the scarred fingers around the length of his dick, which is thick, but longer than you expected. The leaking head is almost purple and your mouth begins to water as you stroke him gently.

“It’s part of you,” Joel tells you, his eyes connecting with yours. “I love it. It shows you survived. Gonna jerk off to it, Daddy loves it so much. And when I’m done you’re gonna love it too. Swear I’ve got so many over the years I can barely even count ‘em. Even got a few on my middle finger. Maybe even one from a certain guitar pick you made me. Nothing like that could ever make me stop wanting you, ya know that, right?”

You smile and take your time stroking him, wanting to show him how much you love and care for him, scars and all.

He grunts softly, closing his eyes, but then shoos your hand away with a feverish kind of want. 

“Yeah, touch yourself now, baby. Daddy wants to see how wet you are for him. With that scarred finger. C’mon, now. ‘S gonna make you feel so good.”

You do as you’re told and reach down underneath your dress and begin to touch yourself, especially with your middle finger. You stroke your clit and then your dripping wet slit. You moan softly as Joel’s eyes rake over you, taking in every sigh and groan you emit. The butterflies are forming something big inside you, which presses against the inside of your tummy and ribcage.

“Daddy,” you whine.

“Enough, little one,” Joel whispers. 

He takes out your hand and begins to suck the slick off of each of your fingers, groaning deeply, making intense eye contact the whole time.

“Fuck, angel,” he moans, having a tough time keeping himself together, you can tell. “Taste and smell better than like how I pictured. Like you were fuckin’ made for me, I swear.”

He reaches a hand of his own down to stroke himself and his moans become more desperate. Finally, he sucks on your middle finger covered in your slick and groans so deeply you feel like you might cum untouched. He stares into your eyes. 

“ Mine, ” he growls possessively. “Oh, shit! Gonna–”

Then he takes your left hand and leads it to meet his throbbing cock. You stroke him, harder this time, fisting his thick length, moaning softly and that does it for him.

Joel cums all over your hand, oozing white globs of cum over your fingers, once, twice, three times. 

“Fuuuuuck, babygirl,” he groans. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry! Couldn’t help it. Yeah, suck it off, baby. That’s it,” he commands, and you do, licking up all of his cum, even the part that got on your middle finger. 

When Joel comes down he still looks half-crazed with desire.

“Sorry about the, uh, early release. It’s been a while since anyone touched me,” he babbles in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed pink. “But I don’t wanna hear shit about your gorgeous hands ever again, you hear me, babygirl?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you nod, snickering. 

He looks like that one word has set his entire universe back in order again. You honestly don’t care at how fast Joel came. You love how much it shows he wants you. And his heady taste is making you weak. You could taste him for days and days and never get tired, you’re sure.

“Can still get you off though, don’t worry. Shoulda let you cum first, but I couldn’t help it with the things you do to me. Goddamn. Can Daddy eat your pussy, baby?”

You grin, but then your face falls. 

“Didn’t shave,” you admit, feeling dirty. 

Max hates your hair down there.

Joel looks at you in confusion.

He laughs, his face scrunching up.

“Oh, sweetheart. You think I care about that? Only little boys give a shit about things like that. Not men.”

You shiver.

“Really?”

“Of course I don’t care. Didn’t ya hear what I just said? C’mon now. You can lie down on the couch.”

You follow instructions, pulling your dress over your head to reveal white lace panties and no bra. 

You move to take the panties off, but Joel stops you, staring at the lines and curves of your body. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls, taking you in.

You think you see his cock twitch ever so slightly. He palms his softening length instinctively.

“Beautiful,” he snarls, pushing you back on the sofa. 

You happily fall backward. 

He lies on top of you, his white button-down shirt pressing against your naked body tantalizingly. 

He bites your lips roughly and you groan against him.

“Daddy’s mouth,” he commands against you.

“Yeah, duh, Daddy,” you snicker.

As if he even needs to say it! 

He kisses down your neck expertly and you begin to shiver and whine, your pussy aching with need and neglect.

He stops at your breasts, sucking and biting each one.

“Daddy’s tits,” he declares, snaking a finger over the lace panties that protect your clit. “Of course,” you respond, moaning softly, grinding needily against him.

He continues lower, licking down your breasts and over your tummy which he plants with kisses that tickle and then one hard bite on your hip that leaves behind teeth marks.

“Daddy’s body,” he impresses upon you.

“Yes, Daddy. Only yours.”

“No more of that little shithead, Max,” he snarls, an inch above your clit.

“No more Max,” you repeat as he presses kisses down your pussy, still covered by soaked white lace panties. 

“Only Daddy.”

“Only you.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

He finally removes your panties and begins to eat and suck your clit and pussy so hard and enthusiastically, swirling his tongue around your bundles of nerves that you grow exponentially closer by the second.

“Joel,” you whine. “Oh my God.”

It doesn’t take long. The second his calloused hand is pressing a finger and then two inside of you it’s over. You were so needy for him that you could have even cum from just his mouth alone, but his hands are what send you over the edge. And something different happens as orgasm crashes down upon you. The butterflies all join together and transform into something bigger and softer, caressing your insides, cooing. It feels like a breathing white dove is spreading its wings inside you, the tips of its feathers brushing against your rib cage. And you cum harder than you ever have in your life. 

Pleasure engulfs you in currents, facilitated by the gentle flapping from deep

inside your body.

“ Joel,” you moan. “Oh my God. Daddy, pleaseee–”

“Please what, baby? Make my princess cum again? I would eat that pretty little clit and

pussy every day for the rest of my life if I could, fuck. God, so perfect and you’re so fuckin’ tight. Look how fucking hard you make me, angel.”

He takes one of your hands and places it on his half-hardening cock. Not going to lie, you are partially shocked at his recovery, but another part of you seems to know that if there was anyone in the universe that could do that to him it had to be you. 

“Never got hard again from anyone I’ve ever fucked before…” he trails off dreamily like he can read your thoughts. “You’re so gorgeous, babygirl.”

“Not so bad yourself, handsome,” you tell him lazily, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth as you pull him closer to you. 

The heat from his body keeps you so warm and tender and for a moment you lie on the couch, Joel’s still-clothed body pressed to yours.

“Can you fuck me, Joel?” you ask, squirming against him needily.

“You can’t say that shit to me, baby,” Joel groans, his cock getting harder. “Not quite ready yet.”

“Lemme help you out,” you offer, pouting. 

You reach down and stroke his half-hard length and then bend over and press a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock.

Joel swears, staring down at you with so much adoration it pours off his face. No man has ever looked at you like that before. You’re certain. Perhaps no man ever will again? Not like that.

“Shit, baby,” Joel babbles stupidly, his eyes threatening to swallow you up in that beautiful shade of umber. “Never gonna forget this moment,” he grunts as you begin to suck his cock properly, feeling it slowly get hard enough to throb between your lips with each thrust of your head and gluck of your throat. 

You stare up at him, your eyes wide and wanting and Joel lets out a soft, vulnerable moan as you begin to really suck him and take him down the walls of your throat.

“ Unh , babygirl, fuck,” he whines and you have never quite heard Joel so desperate before. “Gotta pull out or I’m gonna cum. Holy fuck.” 

It sounds just like it did the night you accidentally spied on him jerking off. 

“You’ve been thinking about me a lot, huh, Daddy?” you ask, releasing Joel from your mouth like he wanted, though his hips buck forward ever so slightly with desire, the tip of his cock just barely scraping against your mouth. He grunts.

“Maybe so,” he replies, looking a little guilty. “Don’t know how not to these days.”

“Heard you on the couch last night,” you whine yourself. “Had to touch myself ‘cuz of it, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Joel reaches out a hand to cup your crotch and rub against your slick pussy.

“That’s so fuckin’ naughty, baby,” he groans. “Look how wet that made you. All for me.”

You steal a glance at his cock and find that the tip is weeping too. And he is so fucking big compared to the size of your hand. Fuck!

“You were thinking about me, weren’t you?” you whisper.

“All about you, baby,” Joel nods in agreement, his hips twitching ever so slightly. “‘Bout touching you just like this.”

He slinks two big fingers inside you and you moan deliciously, the feathery wings of the newly-formed dove fluttering against your insides. 

“Gotta stretch you a bit more,” he grunts into your throat, pushing in a third finger. “Daddy’s so big and you’re so tight, angel. Don’t wanna hurt ya. Not too bad at least. Not yet…That’s it, pretty girl, fuck,” he grins when you slide back on his thumb in pleasure which had traveled to the rim of your asshole “Good girl, so good for Daddy. So naughty too. Don’t think Daddy won’t punish you.”

“Want you to hurt me, Daddy,” you moan. “When you fuck me. Please fuck me hard. I want all of you – pain and pleasure. One hundred percent Joel. Joel, please, I need–” 

And Joel does stop for a moment.

“Never hurt you in a way you didn’t beg for,” he tells you seriously. “You know that right, baby?”

You stop your rutting against him and look into his eyes.

“Are you kidding? You would protect me with your dying breath. I know that, Joel. Never been afraid of you since I’ve really known you. Not once. I mean: fuck; you gave up your whole life for me. To keep me safe, for fuckssake. In every word you say and don’t say to me I can feel how much you love me.”

 “I do love you so much, babygirl,” he whispers, nuzzling your forehead. “If I had to, I’d do all of it all over again if it meant I’d get you. I’ve made mistakes, big ones, but protecting you, loving you was never one of them.” 

Warm tears trail down your cheeks, but Joel licks and kisses them away. 

“Wanna feel me inside you?” he asks. “Don’t wanna go too fast, but I need you, baby. Needed you for so long…Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for Daddy, huh? Gonna fit me just like a glove, I just know it — if you wanna…”

“Yes, please, fuck me, Daddy! Please, Joel Wanna feel you—ah!” you moan as Joel shoves his entire length into your pussy in one hard thrust eagerly. “Oh my God, please fuck me harder!” you moan, reeling from the deep blend of pain and pleasure of him sinking inside you, clenching down around the thickness of him. “Joel, please!”

He pauses, sweat glistening on his brow, sneering.

“You really want harder?”

You shiver. The way he says that makes your heart beat wildly in your ears.

“Because babygirl, I would treat you like porcelain if you want it so. I will never hurt you, my angel, my gift from god, my goddamn sweetest heart please know I will break my fucking hands before they would hurt you, before I would ever hurt you in a way that you didn’t want, no matter how much it hurt me. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Joel. But you want it too,” you smirk. “You aren’t innocent in this, are you?”

“Fuck, of course i’m not innocent. I want you, babygirl. In every way there is to want another. Want every inch of you, inside and out. Wanna mark you up so the world knows you’re mine, honey. Want everyone to smell me on you and know I marked you, moved in you, darlin’, please, see, I’m no fucking Hemingway, I didn’t go to college, I’m not like you with words, but I need you to understand that I mean this with my whole chest and heart. Really, I’m not a big talker, never was, babygirl, but I need you to understand I—”

  “I do, you dumbass fucking fool!” you shout, giggling at his desperation. “I’d understand you even if you were speaking another language. You’ve made your intentions loud and clear. I don’t want a Hemingway, I want Joel Miller!”

You pull him in for a kiss and he thrusts in you again a second time and you end up moaning clumsily in his mouth, but you can feel him smiling , smiling like some dumb idiot against you and maybe you called him the correct insult because he is a dumbass fucking fool for you. And it turns out you must be one as well because you are smiling like an idiot for him too.

“ Joel,” you moan as he begins to move inside you, hitting deep places that Max or any of your previous exes never went. Pleasure is tracing itself along the line of your stomach. “Oh my god, I love you so much,” you babble and you’ve never meant that more than you do now.

You can feel Joel coming apart above you, plowing into you, sighing deeply. His grunts and moans and thrusts spur on the intense pleasure. 

“More!” you moan. “Oh my god. Harder, please, I need–”

Joel plants rough bites on your neck and kisses too like he’s trying to consume every inch of you. 

He places a large hand around your throat questioningly and you nod.

“Beg for it,” he commands in his deep, sexy voice — the voice that’s been in every wet dream you’ve ever had. You think you might just pass out from the sound alone. 

“Choke me, Daddy,” you whine as pathetically as you possibly can, batting your eyes. “Oh, please, I could cum from just this, but I want more. More of you. All of you.”

“As you fuckin’ wish, baby,” he snickers in amusement. “Bet no little boy ever fucked you like this, huh?” he growls, continuing his rough pace, slamming against your walls, his eyes growing wild.

“They don’t compare to you, Joel. It’s always been you. In every orgasm. Fuck, never felt like this! Shit! Shit!”

Joel reaches out his large scarred hand and applies gentle delicious pressure to your throat. You know even something like this can be dangerous, but you crave that feral look of violence in his eyes and the power that comes with it. You want him to own you completely – every inch of you. You want him to mark you just like he said he wanted to because he is yours and you are his and has it ever really been any other way? You can’t remember properly from the pleasure rushing through you, the white dove inside you spreading and fluttering its wings, cooing softly. You think it’s only ever been what you feel now.

“Joel, Joel, fuck!” you scream, orgasm building in you.

“I know, babygirl. I know,” he coos himself into your mouth.

He pulls you closer, presses his nose to yours, his lips to yours, biting and kissing like a starving man possessed. He looks into your eyes and it’s there! That look of pure predator closing in on its prey, that look of ownership but also the most intense love you think you’ve ever witnessed. You would recognize that look anywhere. Your starved brain cries out for oxygen beneath his iron grip. 

“Gonna cum again, angel,” Joel growls. “Gonna make you cum so hard you’re never gonna forget who you belong to. Whose pretty pussy this is.”

He is pounding so hard against your cervix and his dick is so big inside you and the pressure of his hand squeezing around you is so overwhelming and the scent of him could make you faint straight then and there, but you let go and feel yourself cumming in enormous waves as you squeeze down around Joel’s prick, the pleasure more intense than any single bodily experience you’ve had.

“ Daddy ,” you whine breathlessly, tears trickling out of your eyes. “Oh my god!”

“You’re mine, babygirl, always have been–FUCK!” he shouts into your throat, collapsing on top of you.

And then you feel him starting to empty himself inside you, painting your sensitive insides with trustful after trustful of hot cum. You’ve never felt so helplessly full and sticky in your life, the brilliant pleasure billowing through every inch of you. You want to feel like this every day, stuffed full of Joel’s cock, so close to him you can feel his heartbeat against yours, the one true place you belong. 

“So beautiful, babygirl,” he whispers in an exhausted type of awe.

When your words come back you reply,

“Shut up, you’re the hot one,” through a snicker. 

You look down at your body, covered in purple bite marks and bruises forming like galaxies across your body. 

Joel snorts. Then he sits up on the couch and you lean your cheek against him. You lean up to kiss his cheek and he blushes ever so slightly.

“I said a lot of stuff, Y/N, but I want you to know that I meant all of it,”

“Yeah, you probably said more in the last hour than you’ve ever uttered in your entire life,” you tease, sitting up.

“I’m serious,” he snickers.

“I am and was too,” you nod. “I’m so glad that you’re here with me — that we did this. I know that our…origin story is weird and unconventional and some might argue straight up wrong, but I need you, Joel. I don’t care about that or think I could go back to pretending to be what we were.”

“You think I’d want you to act like that?” he asks incredulously. “You think I want this to just be a one-time thing?”

“Of course not,” you smirk. “But as close as we are I can’t actually read your mind. I mean…how are we going to be together realistically?”

“I’m not sure,” Joel admits, frowning a little. “For now it has to be a secret unless you want your mother or brother in jail for murdering me this time around. But someday, I dunno. It’s dumb…”

“What?”

“I just have these thoughts sometimes about you ‘n me. I…” Joel’s cheeks turn a bit pink. “Had a lot of time to think in prison, you know? And I’d Imagine us living on a ranch somewhere quiet out in the country with a flock of sheep. I could work at the tractor and auto-body repair shop that’d be out there, you know, in this dream of mine, and you could be a counselor at a local school if that’s what ya wanted. I don’t know, l know it sounds silly, but nobody would know or bother us there. But I want you to finish school and have the best life possible, babygirl. I’d wait a thousand years for you, but if you didn’t want me anymore the way we are now, I’d respect that. And if you’d allow it, I’d still be there for you just in a platonic sense — or just there for you however you want because I can’t imagine my life with you in it. I’d do whatever it takes, brokenhearted or not. I just can’t be separated from you like that again. A day longer in prison and I could’ve keeled over and died. And it’s crazy how much I mean that.”

“I don’t ever want to be separated from you again, Joel,” you agree. “I know the original plan was for you to find work and get an apartment of your own and I would love for that to still happen, but with you being intimate with me in every way – even if it has to be a secret. I don’t pretend to know what the future holds, but I need you in mine. I’ve never needed something more than I need that. Understand?”

Joel pulls you into a hug and leans his chin on the top of your head. He kisses it then your forehead. You lean up and plant a kiss on his throat and then his Adam’s apple.

“Don’t mean to get too ahead of ourselves now. We can take things a day at a time,” he mumbles into your skin.

You yawn contentedly, the tiredness clawing at your eyes, so unbelievably spent.  

“I like hearing about your dreams and I’d go anywhere with you, Joel. But I am kinda dead from how good you just fucked me. Take me to bed?” You ask exhaustedly into his chest.

“Of course, babygirl,” he smirks down at you.

***

You don’t let go of Joel all night long, burrowed up against his chest, his heartbeat against your ear. And he doesn’t let go of you either. After the most intimate night of cuddles and snuggling you’ve ever experienced as well as the deepest and most restful sleep you’ve had in ages, you wake up to Joel gone from the bed. You frown, having wanted more than anything to wake up in his strong arms. Fear grips your insides as you wonder if he finally realized last night was a mistake and that you were never meant to be together in the first place (what you fear more than anything). A stupid vulnerable tear comes to your eye, but then you cock your head and hear music playing. Guitar music. 

You think of your apartment as shitty, but truthfully you care deeply about your little private space and one of the things you do actually love the most about it is the tiny balcony that overlooks a measly courtyard and part of the city. That’s where you find Joel in the deck chair holding his guitar, strumming it lazily.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” he says, fingerpicking a melody that scratches at the back of your mind with familiarity. 

“Morning, handsome,” you tell him softly, plopping your smaller hand down on his shoulder. 

The city hasn’t woken up yet, the soft glow of morning shining beams of light onto you and Joel, filling you with warmth. You sit down in the deck chair next to him, bathing in the sunlight.

“Whatcha playing?” you ask curiously, crouching to sit up on your knees.

“You know the song ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen?” Joel asks in that beautifully deep voice of his. 

He isn’t even singing yet but you could listen to him forever. 

“‘Course,” you nod. “It’s a classic. You used to play it for me once in a blue moon.”

“Know what the word ‘Hallelujah’ actually means?” he asks. 

You think about it for a second.

“It’s about praising god and all that, right? Why d’you ask?”

He pauses, both his words and fingerpicking. 

“Babygirl,” he begins and you can tell he’s about to say something serious. “You know I’m not too good with words, but I need you to know this: I’ve never had much to thank god for in my life, except for Sarah, you know? But then He took her away…”

You place your hand on Joel’s and he looks at you sadly, but appreciatively. He flips it over and holds it in his giant paw of his own marked-up hand. 

“And I was so fucking angry. Nothing left in me. The only good part of me gone. I was a broken man. And I hated Him. But then He, despite the shit I’ve done…He gave me you . And I know our road hasn’t been easy or fair, and the pain you’ve felt and I have felt but…I guess what I’m trying to say is you are the reason I believe that any type of…goodness— of holiness— can exist in this universe. And I’m not a religious man, I don’t believe in most of that dogmatic type of shit, and I don’t think you do either, but I do think someone or something is up there and I wanna thank them for you. Does that make sense? Do you wanna hear what I mean? I just feel so damn grateful.”

A tear you hadn’t noticed was there rolls down your cheek. 

“Of course it does and of course I do,” you tell him.

You think perhaps this is the closest thing he can do to bearing his soul to you. 

And then he leans over and kisses the tear away and begins to fingerpick the familiar melody.

♪ “I heard there was a secret chord…”♫

You listen to his deep weathered voice as the sun grows higher in the morning sky, casting both light and shadow over Joel’s wrinkled, handsome face. The light trails over you too. You feel the dove inside you cooing contentedly, dusting its wings gently against the edges of your insides. 

♪There's a blaze of light in every word / It doesn't matter which you heard / The holy or the broken Hallelujah…”♫

When he finishes he places his large, scarred, calloused hand in yours and you hold it between your own scarred fingers.

“Thank you, Joel,” you tell him, meaning every word. “I think there’s hope for us, you know? I don’t believe in hippie-dippie type stuff, but something in this universe did bring us together. And I’ll be forever grateful for that too, ya know?”

Joel squeezes your smaller hand, his big fingers engulfing yours as the dove coos louder inside you.

“Babygirl, you know that I ain’t a good man, or a rich and educated one like maybe you thought you’d end up with, but I am less of a broken one because of you and I’m never letting you go. If we’re together, I think we have a chance.”

A/n:PLEASE COMMENT LIKE REBLOG IM BEGGING IM PLEADING IM CRYING DID THE SMUT LIVE UP TO YOUR DREAMS????

PART 1

PART 3 (coming soon)

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Crushed | Jeno Fic #1 (feat. Jisung)

Title: Crushed

Genre: College AU

Warnings: a love triangle is heavily implied, kissing is involved. reader is little insecure

Word Count: ~14k

Author's Note: Like my other lengthier works, this story took ages to complete. I actually started writing it last year and the motivation to keep going was very slow. But I was determined to finish this story and now it's finally done! I know love triangles are cliché, but I've always wanted to use it in a story. I feel like not many people will be interested in reading this story, but I do hope that those who do will enjoy it. Thank you for reading and please leave comments ^ ^

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~ cats and coffee

“Hyung, Hyung—that’s her!” The younger one exclaimed in a hushed tone, shaking the elder’s shoulder.

Jeno’s eyes shifted upward to you standing behind the counter, donning a barista uniform. Your dark hair was neatly tied in a half ponytail and the round, silver-rimmed glasses added a scholarly charm, partially concealing your features. While your appearance might not be the most striking, there was a soft warmth about you that made others feel at ease.

“Who? (Y/n)?” He repeated, turning back to his friend.

Jisung nodded with a dreamy look in his eyes. “Isn’t she pretty?”

“Yeah I guess so,” Jeno shrugged. “Is she the reason you’ve been coming here so often?”

The younger boy’s cheeks tinged red as he bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe…”

Jeno never thought he’d see the day when Park Jisung—who used to run away from any girl who looked his way— had a crush. It felt…weird.

“How do you know her?” Jisung then asked, brows furrowing in curiosity.

Leaning back in his seat, Jeno replied, “She joined Jaemin’s club this year. I volunteer with her at the pet shelter.”

To be honest, Jeno hadn’t paid a great deal of attention to you before. The first time he saw you was during the first week of the semester when you joined the animal volunteer club, which he was a board member for. Aside from first-day introductions, you appeared rather reserved during meetings and often kept to yourself. 

Given Jeno’s own introverted nature, it took some time for him to actually talk to you. Even though he was in his third year of college, he still got shy when it came to meeting new people. In fact, it wasn’t until the two of you were assigned together to work with the cats that you were compelled to become more acquainted. Your shared love for the felines definitely eased the initial awkwardness. Despite this newly formed connection, his interactions with you stayed within the club’s activities.

Jisung gaped at this newfound information. “Seriously? You never told me that before!”

“Well I didn’t know you were interested in her,” Jeno teased, taking a sip of his iced americano. 

Just as they were talking about you, you caught Jeno's eyes and sent a kind smile in his direction. He observed as you exchanged a few words with your coworker and then walked over to their table. 

“Hi Sunbae, sorry for not noticing you earlier,” you apologized sheepishly, briefly adjusting the frames of your glasses.

“No worries. You looked busy over there,” Jeno assured you, before gesturing towards his friend across the table. “This is my friend, Park Jisung, by the way.”

Feeling a bit awkward now that he was in the presence of his crush, Jisung managed a small wave. “Hi,” he mumbled.

The warm smile you kindly offered gradually put him at ease. “Hey, you’re a dance major right?”

“Yeah, how did you know?” The boy’s eyes widened, raising a hand over his mouth in surprise that you recognized him.

You chuckled a hint of bashfulness in your demeanor. “I saw you dance at the freshman retreat. You were so cool, I could never do something like that.”

Observing the blush on Jisung's cheeks intensify, Jeno couldn't help but smirk involuntarily. “Oh—thanks. I’m glad you liked it,” Jisung said shyly, scratching his head. 

You glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing you couldn’t keep talking forever. A part of you felt guilty for having to cut the conversation short. But you also didn’t want to leave your coworker by herself for too long.

“Well, I better get back to work,” you sighed, briefly shifting your focus back at the two boys with a small smile. “I'll see you at tomorrow's club meeting, Sunbae. And it was nice meeting you, Jisung-ssi.”

As you excused yourself, Jeno and Jisung exchanged glances, both wearing smiles that lingered even after she left.

“She’s exactly how I imagined her to be. Kind and sweet,” Jisung said, the dreamy expression returning to his face. “Do you think I have a chance with her?”

Jeno shrugged, lifting his drink again. “Yeah, why not? You should try getting to know her more though.”

“How am I supposed to do that when I get so nervous when she’s around?” Jisung groaned, holding his head in his hands. 

Jeno watched his friend sympathetically, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t like he had much experience with girls either—not because he had some irrational fear of them like Jisung did. In fact, several girls eyed him on campus. But he just wasn’t interested in any of them.

Suddenly, a light bulb went off in Jisung’s head. “Wait, can you help me get with her, Hyung?”

The male across from him raised an eyebrow. “Why me?”

“You said you're in the same club as her. Maybe you could invite her to hang out with us sometime,” Jisung suggested.

“We’re not really that close,” Jeno mumbled, contemplating his friend’s request. He’s never been asked to play the matchmaker role before, so he wasn’t sure if he could do a good job. However, he couldn’t resist the hopeful look in the younger one’s eyes.

“Please do this for me, Hyung. I'll do anything you want!”

The desperation in the boy’s plea caused Jeno to sigh in defeat. “Okay, I guess I can help,” he relented, crossing his arms. “But you have to buy me snacks for the rest of this month.”

Jisung pumped his fist in the air. “No problem! You’re the best, Jeno Hyung.”

Back behind the counter, your eyes flitted in the boy’s direction again. A smile crept on your lips, noticing the animated expressions on Jisung’s face in contrast to Jeno’s calm demeanor. They seemed like really good friends as if nothing could tear them apart. 

Little did they know that their friendship would be tested.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ an accidental start of something

The following Saturday, Jeno spent the afternoon at the pet shelter, where they gladly welcomed their club. He was paired up with you to clean the litter boxes, and you were able to finish the task sooner than expected. With some extra time on their hands, you decided to hang out in the nursery where the playful kittens were waiting.

Jeno observed you affectionately cradling a fluffy black kitten. He couldn’t help but smile at how your eyes lit up joyfully. It always fascinated him to see your reserved demeanor fade away in the presence of something you had great fondness for.

He chuckled when a kitten playfully pawed at the shoelaces on his sneakers. Jeno gently scooped up the little one in his arms.

“That one seems to like you,” you remarked, breaking the silence.

Jeno smiled, softly stroking the cat’s head with his finger. “Yours seems to like you too.”

“I wish I could just take him home with me,” you sighed, leaning over to gently nuzzle your nose against the kitten’s tiny black one. Unfortunately, the dorms didn’t allow pets.

He nodded understandingly, “I know what you mean.”

As the conversation flowed between the two, Jeno decided this was a good time to bring up his friend. “So, what do you think of Jisung?” He asked casually.

A thoughtful expression formed on your face as you placed the kitten in your lap. “He seemed nice. Why do you ask?”

“Well, we’re planning to see a movie tomorrow,” Jeno mentioned, a hopeful glint in his eyes. “And I was wondering if you want to join us?”

You hesitated, your eyes momentarily drifting away from the adorable cat to meet his gaze. “Oh... I wouldn't want to intrude…”

“You wouldn't be intruding,” Jeno reassured a warm smile on his face. “I'm just trying to get Jisung to make more friends his age. That’s all.”

After a moment of pondering, you smiled back. "Sure, I’d love to then.”

For some reason, Jeno didn’t expect you to agree so easily. But this certainly made his job a lot easier. He could already visualize the male’s surprised but excited expression when he learned that you said yes.

════════

Jeno observed Jisung fidgeting nervously, as they stood in the lobby of the movie theater. The younger male kept stealing glances at the door, his excitement mingling with anxiety as they waited for your arrival.

Jisung clutched the popcorn bucket tightly in his hands. “I just can’t believe I'll finally get to hang out with her. What if I end up saying something stupid? Or if I—”

“All you have to do is be yourself and you’ll be fine,” Jeno interjected, putting an end to his friend’s anxious rambling.

Though Jisung nodded in response, he didn’t appear any calmer. Chuckling, Jeno gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

“Relax, Jisung-ah,” he said, “She’ll be here soon.”

As if on cue, you rushed through the front entrance, your hair slightly disheveled and cheeks flushed with haste.  

“I’m sorry for being late,” you exclaimed, trying to catch your breath. “A whole wave of people came in when my shift ended, and I couldn’t leave my coworker by herself.”

Jeno waved off your apology with a smile, “Don’t worry, you’re fine. We were just about to head in.”

He glanced over to Jisung who timidly extended the red bucket of popcorn towards her. 

“Here, um…I got this for you,” he mumbled, his words barely audible. The boy’s nerves eased when your eyes lit up with gratitude as you accepted the snack from him.

“Oh thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” you said softly, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. 

Jeno couldn’t discern whether you were touched by Jisung’s gesture or if it was simply your shy tendencies at play. Either way, the three of you headed into the theater room together and found your seats among the dimly lit rows. Throughout the movie, Jeno is mostly occupied with the plot unfolding on the large screen. However, he occasionally caught Jisung stealing nervous glances at Eunji from the corner of his eyes. Huh, he must really like her,  he thought to himself.

Two and a half hours later, the theater lights switched back on and people began to file out of the room accordingly. However, just as the three of them made their way outside the theater, Jisung suddenly realized his phone was missing.

“It must’ve slipped out of my pocket in the theater,” Jisung muttered, before turning to you and Jeno with a sheepish smile. “I’ll go back to find it. Are you okay with waiting here?”

You gave him a reassuring nod. “Of course, we won’t go anywhere.”

He smiled appreciatively before darting back into the building. Jisung’s absence left a subtle awkwardness in the air, a natural occurrence when two introverts were standing next to each other. In an attempt to move past that awkwardness, Jeno cleared his throat.

“So…what did you think of the movie?” 

His question ignited a spark of excitement in your eyes as if you had been waiting to discuss the movie with someone.

Though still appearing composed, you adjusted the strap of your purse. “I thought it was pretty good. I’m a big fan of action films.”

“Really?” Jeno cocked an eyebrow in amusement. “You don’t strike me as the type to enjoy the action genre.”

Your head tilted slightly with a smirk. “Why? Did you think I was more into cheesy rom-coms?”

“Kind of, to be honest,” Jeno said, rubbing the back of his neck. He couldn’t hold back a chuckle, having never witnessed this playful side of you before.

You placed a hand over your chest, pretending to be offended. “Well for your information, Sunbae. I happen to—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Jeno’s head shifted in the direction of the vibrating engine sound that filled his ears. Just as you also turned to see a red delivery motorbike charging straight towards you, Jeno’s body reacted faster than his mind.

The motorbike almost hit you when his hand wrapped around your wrist and swiftly pulled you back. As you stumbled forward, his other arm encircled your waist, holding you steady.

Once the vehicle had driven a safe distance away, Jeno met your eyes, which mirrored the shock on his own. His hand remained tightly wrapped around your wrist, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t tell if it was from the near-collision or from how close you were to him at that moment, your faces mere inches apart.

Time seemed to stand still, as the two of you stared at each other with shaky breaths. The proximity with you sent a surge of warmth coursing through Jeno’s veins, as he realized how mesmerizing your face was up close. And as he gazed into your eyes, it was practically obvious that an instant flutter of attraction had stirred within the both of you.

However, that flutter was immediately overtaken by guilt. Quickly composing himself, Jeno released his grip on your hand and helped fix your position.

“You’re not hurt anywhere?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

You also seemed to snap out of it, giving him a light nod in response. “Y-yeah, thank you,” you stammered, pressing your index fingers instinctively adjusting the alignment of your glasses.

His shoulders sank a little, feeling reassured by your answer. “It was nothing, really,” he replied kindly. 

Shortly after that exchange, Jisung came dashing out of the theater once more with his phone in hand. He returned to them with a flushed smile on his face

“Found it!” he said, “Do you guys want to go eat now?”

Jeno unintentionally met your eyes with a hint of hesitation before you turned to Jisung with a sweet nod. “Yeah, Jisung-ah. Let’s go.”

The dark-haired male trailed behind, listening as Jisung blabbered to you about his thoughts on the movie. His mind was racing with conflicted thoughts, and his heart still hadn’t stopped beating rapidly. Jeno cursed to himself, sincerely hoping this feeling would quickly fade away. 

Because if he wasn’t overthinking it, he might have just fallen for his best friend’s crush.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ getting too close

The university cafeteria hummed with the usual midday energy as Jeno spotted Jisung already seated at a table on the far right. Holding the metal tray of heaping food steadily in his hands, Jeno began making his way over. However, his footsteps slowed when he noticed you sitting across from Jisung. The three of you had never eaten lunch together before.

For a moment, Jeno contemplated just leaving and finding somewhere else to eat. No matter how hard he tried, his mind kept drifting to you since the incident that occurred a few days ago. The worst part was that he knew it was wrong to think about the first girl with whom Jisung avidly expressed his infatuation. Jeno repeatedly told himself that whatever he was feeling was temporary and would eventually go away if he ignored them.

“Jeno Hyung!” The sound of Jisung’s deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Jeno’s eyes flitted to the younger male, who waved his hand for him to come join them.

Knowing it would be hard to escape, Jeno’s feet reluctantly started moving again. He tried to appear as casual as possible as he took a seat next to Jisung.

“Glad I found you,” he mumbled, before briefly turning to greet you. “Hey, (Y/n)-ssi.”

You bowed your head politely. “It’s nice to see you, Jeno Sunbae.”

Jeno couldn’t help but detect an inexplicable layer beneath the typically reserved smile you were giving him. Maybe he hadn’t been the only one who couldn’t shake off the thoughts of what happened not too long ago. He tried not to dwell on that fantasy too much.

“(Y/n) and I were talking about the spring festival at the end of the month,” Jisung said, quickly filling him in on what he missed before he arrived. 

He nodded, picking up his chopsticks. “You’ll be performing with the dance team, right?”

“Yep, we’ve been preparing since the semester break,” Jisung said proudly, turning to you. “You’ll come to see it, right?”

Jeno noticed the genuine warmth in your smile toward the boy. “Of course, I will. I couldn’t miss something like that,” you replied affirmatively.

Your response made Jisung blush, causing him to lower his gaze slightly. Somehow, watching this exchange between the two of you left this gnawing feeling inside him. He wasn’t entirely sure why though.

His eyes followed when your attention momentarily shifted to your phone, which brightened with a text notification. Your brow furrowed as you read the message before looking up at him and Jisung.

“My friend Misun just texted, saying she signed up for a cooking class this Saturday. But apparently, all her friends ended up canceling due to schedule conflicts,” you explained, your eyes flickering between them. “She asked if I wanted to take their spots. I don’t know, would you guys be interested?”

Jeno’s mind clouded with uncertainty, as he turned to meet Jisung’s eyes. However, the boy’s eyes were already lighting up.

Jisung shrugged, “Well I’m not that great at cooking. But it sounds fun, right Jeno Hyung?”

“Huh—oh sure, why not?” Jeno fumbled over his words, agreeing without a second thought. 

You beamed, “Great, I’ll let her know.”

To be honest, Jeno wasn’t sure if this was a great idea. But Jisung already seemed so excited about a new opportunity to spend time with you and he felt obligated to be there as moral support. Although, he was no longer confident in how effective he could be as moral support.

════════

From the moment the cooking class started, Jeno didn’t feel too good. The class was divided into pairs. Of course, he encouraged Jisung to be your partner so the male could spend more time with you. He was left to work with Misun, who had invited them to today’s occasion. She was in the same grade as you were and Jeno vaguely recognized her from the university’s cheerleading team. Although he didn’t hate this arrangement, he honestly wished they weren’t stationed across from you.

Jeno was barely making any progress cutting ingredients for the soup everyone was supposed to make. His attention was drawn to Jisung nervously flipping through the recipe. He knew that Jisung was pretty much clueless when it came to cooking. However, Jeno observed you calmly instructing him to wash the vegetables, as you began heating water in a medium-sized pot. 

Your friend’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Don’t you think they look cute together?” 

“Huh? Oh yeah, I’m glad (Y/n) is there to make sure Jisung won’t burn the kitchen down,” he replied, quickly regaining his composure.

Misun chuckled, her hand hovering near her mouth. “Honestly I was kinda surprised (Y/n) agreed to come today, she doesn’t usually attend these types of events.”

“Oh, really?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I think she's been trying to step out of her comfort zone lately,” Misun nodded, swiftly adding the chopped potatoes he had cut into the boiling pot. “And her inviting you guys to come makes more sense to me now.”

Jeno didn’t need to question further to understand what she was implying. Their gazes returned to you, who was guiding Jisung on how to mince garlic. A soft sigh escaped him, unintentionally. You truly did seem to enjoy Jisung’s company.

Shaking his head, Jeno attempted to concentrate more on the task at hand. For the next twenty minutes, he managed to be more productive. Just as everyone in the class was almost done making their soups, Misun asked him to cut some green onions for garnish.

However as he was doing so, the sound of your laugh mixed with Jisung’s reached his ears. Without thinking, he looked up to watch the two of you. He wondered what you guys were laughing about. From across the room, Jeno noticed that Jisung seemed noticeably more at ease in your presence now.

As Jeno’s eyes lingered on the scene before him, his hand slipped and the sharp edge of the knife pierced the tip of his thumb. A curse flew out of his mouth, and he barely registered Misun’s gasp that followed seconds after. When he opened his eyes, he found you rushing towards him with a folded paper towel in hand. Concern etched across your features as you placed it under his finger to catch the blood that was already dripping.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Jisung’s panicked voice came from behind you as he approached. 

Trying not to grimace as the sting of the cut started to kick in, Jeno forced a smile. “Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad, my foot,” you muttered, turning to the teacher who had come over with a first-aid kit. “Chef-nim, is it okay if I step out with Jeno to take care of his injury?”

“Of course, go right ahead.” The chef handed you the plastic blue box. With the paper towel still pressed against his finger, Jeno watched as you briefly glanced back at Jisung and Misun.

“Jisung, you’ll be okay right?” you asked, wanting to make sure he’d be alright without you there to finish things.

The male hesitated for a second before nodding eagerly, “Yeah—I can handle things, (Y/n).”

“I can help Jisung too if he needs it,” Misun chimed in, “You two go ahead.”

With their assurances confirmed, Jeno soon found himself seated on a bench in the hallway beside you. His thumb pulsed with a relentless drumbeat, throbbing with pain. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but be drawn to the way you were delicately tending to his wound, even as worry furrowed your brow. Perhaps, you were one of the few people who looked at him like that.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he said quietly, glancing down as you finally managed to stop the bleeding. 

As you set the red-soaked paper towel aside, you reached for some gauze to clean the cut with an antiseptic solution. Jeno bit down on his lip, suppressing a wince from the sting of it, even though you were being careful.

Focused on treating his wound meticulously, you spoke without meeting his eyes. “You’re right, but it’s the least I can do. Especially after you literally saved my life last time.”

Though he wanted to, Jeno couldn’t find an argument against that. Once you finished cleaning the cut, you wrapped his finger with some white bandage. He noticed you pause after as you held his hand momentarily, before returning it to his lap. His eyes met yours in a brief, yet charged five seconds that made his heart pound—rather against his will. This situation felt too much like déjà vu to him. Was he the only one?

You then cleared your throat, shifting your gaze to look straight ahead. Subconsciously, you pushed up your glasses that had fallen slightly off the bridge of your nose.

“Try to be careful when using your left hand. Your thumb should heal in a few weeks.”

“Thank you,” he breathed, also having trouble making eye contact with you.

A small exhale was let out by you, before glancing in his direction again. Jeno could tell you wanted to say something, but you seemed to hold back this time.

“No problem, Sunbae,” you smiled at him, rising from the bench. “We should go back to our friends. I’ve never seen Jisung look so frightened before. He seemed really worried about you.”

The mention of Jisung’s name stung worse than the knife had. Jeno hadn’t even thought about him since they left, and he hated himself for it. This day was supposed to be for his friend to get closer to you. Not him.

One thing for sure was that Jeno didn’t know what he was doing anymore.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ the moment of realization

As the month flew by, Jeno tried but failed to limit his interactions with you. Hangouts with you and Jisung became more frequent, and the younger male often pleaded for his presence as moral support. Jeno tried to ignore his growing feelings for you. But it was hard when his spare time was now consistently consumed by being a part of this trio.

Then during the next club meeting, fate landed him and you paired to volunteer at the pet shelter again. He tried to convince Jaemin to trade shifts with him, but couldn’t find a plausible excuse without risking his secret being exposed or accidentally casting you in a negative light.

So he unfortunately found himself in the back room, folding freshly cleaned laundry alongside you. As the piles of white towels and soft cat beds grew around them, Jeno couldn’t help but steal occasional glances at you, observing how you folded the towels so meticulously. If you sensed his gaze on you, Jeno couldn’t tell.

“I’m looking forward to seeing Jisung perform at the spring festival next week. Are you?” you asked, once again breaking the awkward silence between you. Jeno mentally chastised himself for not initiating the conversation himself.

He nodded, mustering a tentative smile. “Yeah, I am. Jisung shines the most when he’s dancing.”

Before Jeno could hear your agreement, a staff member positioned near the doorway caught both of your attention. “Can you guys bring some kittens back to their condos from the private room?” she asked politely, her eyes darting between the both of you. “The customer decided to come back another time.”

“Of course, we’ll take care of it.” He heard you reply in the sweet, natural tone you often used around people in general.

The staff member sent the both of you a grateful smile, and stepped aside, allowing him and you to make your way to the private room. However, once you got there, there were no tiny felines in sight. As you mumbled words of concern, Jeno crouched down near the big blue chair to search for any hint of movement.

“Um, I think they’re under here,” Jeno said, his suspicions confirmed as he spotted two black furballs discernible only by their light green eyes.

You bent down to his level, your expression softening as you took a closer look. “Poor things, they must be scared.”

“Yeah I guess whoever came by must’ve unintentionally frightened them,” he agreed, extending his arm in an attempt to bring the kittens out from under the chair. However, his actions only served to make them shrink further against the wall.

Jeno let out a sigh of frustration, sitting up to see if you had any ideas on how to get the kittens out. He noticed the frown on your lips deepen, as you briefly scanned the room. Then, he saw your eyes light up with determination as you picked up a discarded cat wand from the floor.

With curiosity, Jeno watched as you crouched down and shook the wand, causing the feather tip to swish against the ground. “Come on, little ones,” you cooed gently, your voice sounding like a soothing melody in the quiet room.

It didn’t take long for the tantalizing movements to attract the kittens, inevitably coaxing them out of their hiding place. Jeno felt relief wash over him, as he finally scooped up one of the kittens, while you did the same with its sibling.

“Wow, you’re a genius,” he complimented absentmindedly, genuinely impressed by your quick thinking. 

You lightly chuckled, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. “You don’t have to exaggerate, Sunbae.”

As Jeno followed behind your lead back to the main room, he was unable to tear his gaze away from you. Something about witnessing you hug the tiny cat against your chest, placing little kisses on the top of its head, and whispering sweet words of assurance, triggered the feeling he had been trying to bury down throughout the entire month. 

Jeno held his kitten a little closer to his chest, feeling its warm black fur between his fingers. He knew then that he was officially doomed. No matter how hard he tried to remind himself of his loyalty to Jisung and resist the way you continued to make his heart race, he couldn’t stop himself from falling for you.

At that moment, Jeno realized that he was fighting a battle he was destined to lose.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ how one kiss leads to catastrophe

Ever since you met up with Misun for the spring festival, the strange look she kept giving you was making you want to hide. After enduring ten minutes of her burning stature, you couldn’t take it anymore. When you finally sat down at one of the food stalls, waiting for the guys to arrive, you decided to speak up.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” you asked, wondering if you had done something to upset her.

Misun continued to eye you suspiciously. “Do you have a crush on Lee Jeno?” she answered with a question that immediately caught you off guard.

“W-what?” you laughed as if she just made a ridiculous statement. “No, I don’t…I mean… is it that obvious?” 

A smirk of satisfaction stretched across Misun’s lips as she saw your cheeks heating up as you anxiously awaited her response.

Casually leaning back in her seat, she crossed her arms. “Not necessarily. At first, I thought you liked Jisung. But then I started to wonder if it was Jeno after seeing you rush over to help him when he cut his finger.”

“So it is obvious,” you groaned in embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands. It was a good thing the guys hadn’t arrived yet, or else you’d be such an awkward mess.

Amusement danced in Misun’s eyes as she leaned forward on the table. “I can’t believe (L/n) (Y/n) has a crush on someone. When did you start liking him?” she asked.

You pondered for a bit, tracing back to the events that occurred this past month. Your social life certainly has taken a turn ever since you became friends with Jeno and Jisung. Although you instinctively wanted to decline Jeno’s first invitation to hang out, Misun’s constantly chastising you for antisocial tendencies. In fact, she was the one who pushed you to join the animal volunteer club because she knew how much you liked cats.

“Well, I didn’t really pay much attention to him before, even though we saw each other at his club. I think it started after we watched a movie at the theater when he saved me from getting hit by a motorcycle,” you began to explain, recalling the details from that night.

Misun clasped a hand over her mouth and gasped, “No way, you had a k-drama moment!”

“I guess you could call it that,” you chuckled softly, lowering your gaze. “But the way he held me—so gently yet securely—and looking into his eyes, I don’t know…I just felt this spark?”

You weren’t exactly sure how to describe it. Honestly, you had been too focused on your academics and personal stuff to go anywhere near men. Yet that one heart-flutter moment with Jeno was enough to make you want to reconsider staying away from dating. It was sort of the catalyst that made you start to see Jeno in a different light.

“The more I spent time around Jeno, I just started to notice him more. Like how he can be quite funny when you get closer to him,” you continued, your voice softening with admiration. “He’s so good with the cats too, they always snuggle up to him when we visit the shelter. And he really is cute, like I don’t know how such a manly-looking guy can be so…endearing.”

Misun’s eyes widened in slight surprise. “Wow, you really do like him.”

“Gosh, I’m hopeless, aren’t I?” you mumbled, rather pitifully. You hadn’t even realized how fond you’ve become of the boy until Misun pointed it out.

 “Hopelessly in love,” Misun teased in a sing-song voice. “So, do you plan on confessing your feelings to him?”

Her question made your heart sink a little. “I don’t think so. He probably doesn’t feel the same as me, and I’d probably just make things awkward between us.”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about what would happen if Jeno was aware of your crush on him. But for now, you were content with admiring him from afar, hesitant to pursue anything more. Misun, on the other hand, did not seem satisfied with that idea.

“Okay, I get what you’re saying, but I honestly think you have a pretty good chance, (Y/n),” Misun said, her tone brimming with conviction. “He literally couldn’t stop looking at you during the cooking class. Well, you know—until he cut his finger.”

While that did intrigue you a little, you didn’t want to entertain any false hope. You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Misun, I really don’t think—”

“Trust me on this. I can even prove it to you,” she interrupted, her eyes gleaming with persistence. “We’ll do a little test. When Jeno and Jisung get here, I’ll ‘accidentally” spill something on your shirt. If Jeno likes you, he’ll offer his jacket.”

Your brow furrowed in perplexion. “I don’t see how that’s supposed to prove anything.”

“Because it’s a classic romantic gesture,” Misun insisted, tapping the table for emphasis. “It’ll work, I just know it.”

Although you were skeptical about Misun’s idea, you worried that any further disagreement would be futile. Maybe you could find a way to back out at the last minute. Besides, this so-called “test” couldn’t even happen if Jeno wasn’t wearing a jacket.

To your dismay, Jeno arrived wearing a denim jacket over a plain white t-shirt. Your stomach started doing somersaults when Misun waved him and Jisung over to your table.

“Great, you guys are finally here,” she said, flashing them both a smile as she gestured for them to sit. “We already ordered food, so it should be coming out soon.”

Jeno returned her smile with a nod and settled into the seat across from you. “Thanks. Sorry we’re a little late…we got sidetracked.”

“Wah, you guys should’ve seen Jeno Hyung arm wrestling!” Jisung exclaimed, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “It was so cool watching him beat all the guys that challenged him. Even Mark Hyung lost, and he’s really strong.”

For a moment, your nerves faded as you listened to Jisung ramble enthusiastically. It was cute to see him raving about his friend, especially with Jeno looking embarrassed. But you weren’t too surprised to hear about Jeno’s strength. You’ve noticed the prominent veins snaking along his muscular arms before—not that you were staring.

“It’s not a big deal, really,” Jeno said, brushing off Jisung’s praise. Strange, you didn’t think you'd seen him blush before.

But you found it interesting how they alternated between being shy and confident. Their dynamic was certainly something you continued to admire since getting to know them. 

Misun chimed in, giving you a nudge with her elbow. “I’d say that’s pretty impressive. Don’t you think, (Y/n)-ah?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you agreed, appearing calm on the outside, though the somersaults in your stomach resumed. You shot your friend a discreet glare before changing the subject.

“Anyway,” you said with a smile, hoping the anticipation in your voice was evident. “I can’t wait to see you dance later, Jisung!”

You guessed it was Jisung’s turn to be shy, as a light shade of pink tinged his cheeks. “Oh, thanks. I spent all last night practicing, but I’m still nervous,” he mumbled bashfully.

“I always tell him he has nothing to be nervous about,” Jeno quipped, rolling his eyes playfully. His remark only intensified the blush on Jisung’s cheeks as he glanced down at the table in embarrassment.

You and Misun shared a small laugh at the exchange. “Well, it’s only natural. But I know you’ll do great, Jisung-ah!”

Jisung exhaled deeply, his hand resting on his chest as he met your eyes with a sincere expression.

“Thanks, (Y/n)-ah. I definitely feel better having you—uh, I mean, all of you to support me,” he said, his voice laced with gratitude.

The four of you enjoyed the convivial atmosphere and loosened up when food and drinks were eventually delivered to your table. You almost forgot about Misun’s subtle scheme unfolding.

True to her earlier proposal, she passed you a preemptive look before “accidentally” knocking her elbow against the half-empty soju bottle in front of you. You gasped involuntarily as the cold liquid splashed onto your blouse. And now, you regret your decision to also wear white today.

Misun pushed her chair back, feigning a look of guilt. But you caught the mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh no, I’m so clumsy! Sorry about that.”

Though her tone was apologetic, you didn’t miss the mischievous glint in her eyes before she shifted her gaze to the guys. Almost afraid to witness their reactions, you glanced down at the unflattering stain on your blouse. This was a lot more embarrassing than you thought it would be.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Misun,” you attempted to laugh it off, though your grip on the hem of your shirt betrayed your discomfort.

You were too flustered to notice as Jeno started to remove his jacket. However, when you glanced up, Jisung was already shrugging off his light blue hoodie and handing it to you.

“Here, wear this for now,” he offered, his eyes filled with concern.

You looked at him with slight surprise. “Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah, I have to change later anyway,” he said earnestly. “It’ll keep you warm when it gets cold later tonight too!”

“Well—thanks, Jisung-ah,” you said kindly, hesitantly accepting the hoodie and slipping it on. 

The grin on Jisung’s face stretched so wide, but you were too overwhelmed with a different emotion to pick up on it. Although you did appreciate his gesture, a pang of disappointment gnawed at you, and you hated it. 

Meanwhile, Misun was watching Jeno closely. She saw how he paused mid-motion, his jacket still halfway off his shoulders, and caught the brief flicker of jealousy in his eyes as Jisung’s hoodie practically swallowed your petite frame. However, Jeno quickly regained his composure and smoothly slid his jacket back on as if nothing had happened.

Jisung glanced at his phone and took a deep breath. "Well, I better go get ready for the show tonight. I'll see you guys later?"

His eyes lingered on you, noticing your distant expression as you pondered how things hadn’t turned out the way you’d foolishly hoped.

"Yep, we'll be right in the crowd to cheer you on, Jisung-ah!" Misun replied enthusiastically for the both of you.

With that, Jisung waved one last time to you guys before heading off. Jeno cleared his throat and offered to throw out the trash from the table. As he excused himself, Misun grabbed your wrist before you could escape as well.

“Okay, I know things didn’t go exactly as planned. But—” she started to say.

This time, you shut her down by raising your hand. “No, I don’t want to hear it,” you shook your head, voice filled with irritation. “This was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Misun tugged on your wrist with urgency. “You have to listen to me, (Y/n). I saw Jeno was going to give you his jacket. Jisung just beat him to it!”

While you didn’t want to dismiss your friend’s words, you found them hard to believe. Standing with your arms crossed in uncertainty, the festival continued as your mind was preoccupied with the thoughts of Lee Jeno. You spotted him engaging in small talk with one of the seniors who was running the food stall where you had eaten.

Oh, how you wished seeing the way his eyes crinkled into half-crescents didn’t make your heart skip a beat. As the festival continued around you, your thoughts remained fixated on him. 

Misun was right about one thing, you were hopelessly in love.

════════

Honestly, Jeno didn’t know what he was thinking when he had nearly offered you his jacket back there, acting almost out of instinct. Jisung was the one he was supposed to be encouraging to do those sorts of things. He hated how fast his heart continued to race with you sitting next to him in the auditorium.

Jeno could see the boy’s eyes practically bursting with joy when he saw you wearing his hoodie earlier. He should’ve been happy to see his friend make a move on the girl he liked. Compared to when he first met you, Jisung was coming out of his shell more, and Jeno wasn’t sure he entirely needed him to be his wingman anymore. However, Jisung had no idea how conflicted and inadequate Jeno felt in that role.

“Are you okay, Sunbae?” you asked, your voice bringing him back to reality. 

“Huh—oh yeah, I’m fine,” Jeno replied, scratching his head sheepishly. “Guess I just zoned out for a bit.”

Your eyes still carried a hint of concern, as if you weren’t fully convinced by his dismissive response. But before Jeno could offer further reassurance, Misun tapped your shoulder excitedly. “Look, the performance is starting!”

Both of you turned your attention to the stage as the lights came on. Jeno immediately spotted Jisung in the center position among the group. As the first song began to play, Jisung's body moved effortlessly with the beat. The group launched into a medley of legendary boy group hits from older groups like H.O.T and Shinhwa to contemporary acts like EXO and BTS.

Jisung led the charge, his movements precise and powerful, each step perfectly in sync with the music. The crowd’s energy surged as they recognized the familiar tunes and the dance team fed off that excitement, their performance growing more dynamic with each song. Jeno was always to see his friend who was usually so shy, transform into a powerhouse of energy and confidence once he got on stage.

Yet Jeno was focusing more on you, watching the way your face lit up in mesmerization as you were captivated by this side of Jisung you hadn’t seen much of before. Seeing you in Jisung’s hoodie only intensified the pit of jealousy gnawing at Jeno’s stomach. He couldn’t shake the feeling and realized he selfishly wanted to be the one to bring that light into your eyes.

He almost didn’t realize the performance had ended, except for the loud sound of applause as the stage went dark again. 

“Wow, Jisungie was amazing!” you exclaimed, gushing to him and Misun. “I’m so proud of him.”

Misun chuckled at your enthusiasm before glancing at her phone. “Well, this was nice. But I better get going now, my team leader wants to squeeze in one last practice before our performance on the second day of the festival.”

As Misun gathered her things to leave for practice, she bid you both a quick goodbye, promising to catch up later. Left standing in the bustling auditorium, Jeno turned to you with a smile.

"Want to wait outside? It's less crowded and quieter," he suggested, gesturing towards the exit. 

You agreed and soon found yourselves standing on a serene stone bridge just outside the festival grounds. He could tell you were still captivated by Jisung’s performance, not that he could blame you. The air was cooler outside, and Jeno was glad you had Jisung’s hoodie to keep you warm. Tall trees lined the path, their leaves rustling gently in the evening breeze. Though the sky was dark, the dim lights from the festival cast a soft, warm glow that created a peaceful atmosphere. 

As they walked along the bridge, Jeno heard you exhale. “You were right. Jisung truly does shine when he dances.”

“Yeah, he’s been dancing long before I even met him in high school,” he said with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. 

As you both talked about Jisung’s performance and reminisced about the recent memories you’ve shared as friends, Jeno felt his nerves die down a little. It was strange how the sight of you made him incredibly nervous, yet his body would automatically relax when you two talked. Despite not having much to say, he noticed your eyes focused intently on him whenever he spoke, and he could tell you were fully listening. 

A short silence settled you two, a familiar pause in his interactions with you, Jeno didn’t trust himself to speak, fearing he might ruin everything if he gave away his feelings. And just as the other times, you were the one to break the awkwardness. 

“You know, I don’t let many people in,” you confessed. “But I’m really glad I got closer to you and Jisung this semester.”

Jeno was slightly taken aback by the vulnerability he caught in your voice. Now that he thought about it, you had been somewhat withdrawn before he helped Jisung get closer to you. It wasn’t that you were cold, but he noticed you liked to be alone and only engaged with those you knew well, showing no interest in reaching out to others. He had never judged you for it, figuring you had your reasons.

He nodded thoughtfully, looking at you with an understanding smile. “Well, I’m glad you let us in. It’s been nice getting to know the mysterious barista girl who likes action movies and has a hidden talent for charming cats.”

“You’re so funny, Sunbae,” you giggled, shaking your head. Hearing your laugh was like music to his ears, as cliché as that sounded. 

The evening breeze rustled the leaves around you as Jeno saw you contemplate for a moment. “Honestly, I’ve really enjoyed our time together,” you began, your gentle voice sounding nervous but earnest. “And seeing you today made me realize that I don’t just see you my senior.”

Alerts went off in Jeno’s mind as he recognized the direction this conversation was taking.  No, this isn’t supposed to happen, he tried to tell himself, knowing how much Jisung liked you.

After exhaling softly, you spoke up. “I like you, Jeno Sunbae.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between you, and Jeno knew you saw the conflicting emotions flicker across his face. He didn't know what to say, more so because he felt he shouldn’t say anything at all. Seeing your smile falter only made him feel worse.

“But it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way! I just wanted to get it off my chest,” you hurriedly added out of slight panic.

His eyes gaze into yours with the same intensity from that day he saved you from the motorcycle. So many emotions swirled within him, pushing Jeno to his limits. He couldn’t look at you without wanting something more. Before you could say anything else, Jeno impulsively cupped your face with his hands and leaned in, sharing the most passionate kiss either of you had ever experienced. 

Your lips were softer than he imagined them, carrying a faint taste of the soju you both had earlier. As he deepened the kiss, he could feel the slight pressure of your glasses against his cheek. But in that moment he didn’t care, his desire to be close to you overwhelmed any minor distraction.

Almost immediately, you melted into the kiss, as if you both had secretly longed for this moment. One of Jeno’s hands slid down to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and pulling you even closer. The other hand drifted to your waist, his touch firm yet tender. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, grasping tightly as you responded eagerly to his touch. 

Kissing you now made Jeno realize how much he had wanted to do it all those times. When he caught you in his arms after the movies that day, when you took care of the cut on his finger when he saw the affection in your eyes as you cared for the kittens at the shelter. Each moment he wanted to press his lips against yours and convey just how much you made his head spin.

The kiss only ended when the both of you started to feel lightheaded. The soft sound of your mingling breaths filled the air around you, and Jeno let out a soft sigh of contentment. A smile was about to form on his lips, until he noticed your eyes widening, looking past his shoulder.

That was when he turned around, only to find Jisung standing at the other end of the bridge, his expression a mix of shock and hurt.

The younger male shook his head in disbelief. “No way…”

“Jisung, I…” he called out, his voice already full of regret.

But Jisung didn’t wait for him to finish. With a glare of betrayal, his best friend turned and stormed off into the night. Jeno cursed quietly under his breath.

You glanced at him in confusion, searching his eyes for answers as to why Jisung just left so angrily. But Jeno couldn’t explain everything to you right now. He had to go find Jisung.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I—I have to go,” he said, reluctantly pulling himself away from you. 

Then he left you standing there, completely bewildered, the guilt already beginning to pile up inside him.

════════

“Jisung-ah, wait!” Jeno called out, his heart sinking as he caught up to his friend, now a far distance from the bridge. “Please, just let me explain.”

Jisung finally stopped in his tracks and turned sharply, his eyes ablaze with fury and hurt. Jeno has never seen him look so angry before. 

“I just saw you kissing the girl I’ve been crushing on for ages. So tell me, what is there to explain, Hyung?” Jisung demanded, his voice trembling with betrayal. 

His mind raced with regret, struggling to find the right words. “I…I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

The younger male scoffed, the memory of him kissing you still vivid in his mind. “How long were you going to deceive me?”

“I swear, I didn’t even look at her that way when you first told me about her,” Jeno insisted, his voice laced with guilt. “It sort of just happened…and I know how much you like her. But no matter how much I try, I just can’t get rid of these feelings.”

Jisung shook his head in disbelief, his fists clenched at his sides. “All this time, I actually thought I had a chance with (Y/n), but my own best friend goes behind my back. I feel like a complete idiot.”

Jeno’s heart twisted painfully at the sting that came with his friend’s words. He knew he screwed up badly and Jisung had every right to be upset with him. He wasn’t even sure if this was something that could be fixed so easily. 

“I’m sorry, Jisung-ah. I just didn’t want to hurt you,” he lamented.

But his apology wasn’t what Jisung wanted to hear. “Well you did hurt me,” he snapped, his voice cracking with emotions. “I trusted you, Hyung. You were supposed to have my back.”

Jeno cursed under his breath and reached out to touch his friend’s shoulder. “I still do, Jisung-ah.”

But the boy flinched away and took a step back. “I can’t be around you right now. And don’t follow me this time,” Jisung said, his voice stern and final.

With that, Jisung turned and walked away, leaving Jeno standing there with a heavy heart full of guilt and regret. He wanted to call out and explain further, but he knew there was nothing more he could say to undo the pain he had caused his best friend. Things weren’t supposed to happen this way and it was all his fault.

The weight of his actions left him feeling crushed.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ the end of first loves

The days since their fallout with Jisung weighed heavily on Jeno. Any texts he sent were left on read and whenever they crossed paths, Jisung walked straight past him without a second glance. Jeno swore he was on the verge of losing it. 

He was angry. Angry at Jisung for not hearing him out, angry at you for confessing to him at the festival of all times. But mostly, he was angry at himself for letting this all happen in the first place. He should’ve known that nothing good would come out of falling for his best friend’s crush.

Wallowing in his despair, Jeno isolated himself in the club room where Jaemin eventually found him. The other dark-haired male sighed when he saw the troubled expression on his friend’s face.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding out lately?” Jaemin remarked lightheartedly, pulling out a chair from the table to sit across from him. 

Jeno sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. Jisung keeps ignoring me and I can’t even look at (Y/n) right now. They both probably hate me.”

“Yeah, I tried talking to Jisung and he still seems pretty mad. This was the first time he’s really liked someone,” Jaemin pointed out. His tone was sympathetic but it only made Jeno feel worse.

He slammed his fist against the table, not even caring about the sting it left on his knuckles. “I know! Everything is messed up because of me and I have no idea how to fix it.”

There was a tense silence that hung in the air, Jaemin not having expected his friend’s sudden outrage. But he couldn’t necessarily blame him. 

Jaemin sighed empathetically, leaning forward with a serious expression. “Look, I get that you’re in a tough spot, man. But you can’t blame yourself for everything. Sometimes things just happen, and people get hurt.”

Jeno slumped in his chair, the anger in him slowly simmering as Jaemin placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “What matters now is how you handle it,” he continued. “Jisung just needs some space right now, he’ll come around eventually. As for (Y/n), maybe it’s time to talk to her and sort things out.”

Despite the guilt that still lingered in him, he knew Jaemin was right. As painful as it was to think about it, he understood what he needed to do.

════════

Nearly a week had slipped by since the festival, and Jeno finally encountered you again at the pet shelter. The awkwardness between you was palpable, and few words were exchanged throughout the volunteer shift.  It wasn’t until after you changed out your volunteer clothes and prepared to leave that Jeno gathered the courage to say something.

Exiting the building together, Jeno hesitated before breaking the silence. “Hey, can we talk for a moment?”

He could see the apprehension in your eyes when you glanced at him. But then you gave him a light nod of agreement. 

That was how you ended up seated at a nearby café. Jeno fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket, unable to meet your eyes at first. He noticed your nervousness as you lightly tapped the cold glass of your iced latte. 

You seemed to sense his unease and responded with a gentle smile. “It’s okay, Sunbae. Just tell me.”

Jeno could already feel his heart sinking as he heard you speak so kindly to him. He hated that what he was about to say would hurt you, but it was what had to be done. He had to end things.

“I…we…” he started, finding it hard to articulate. “I don’t think this is going to work out between us.”

He could see your smile waver slightly, but you encouraged him to continue with a nod. Glancing down, he stared into his own cup of coffee which had probably gone cold now. 

Sighing softly, he leaned forward to explain. “The truth is, Jisung was the one who liked you from the beginning. I was supposed to help him get closer to you…but then I started to feel something for you and now I brought you into this mess.”

You stayed silent, processing what he just told you. He could tell you were surprised by his confession. Perhaps you had been too focused on someone else to notice.

“Oh, I had no idea…,” your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say to this.

Jeno swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue. “Now I understand why Jisung liked you so much,” he tried to smile but failed. “And I really do like you, (Y/n). But… Jisung is my best friend, and I betrayed him. So I don’t think it would be right for us to be together.”

Your reaction was a lot calmer than he thought it would be, almost as if you had anticipated things going in this direction after the way things ended the other night.

“It’s okay Sunbae, I understand. Thank you for being honest with me,” you replied softly. Your voice remained steady, but Jeno could hear the underlying melancholy in it.

The silence that followed was so agonizing that one could practically hear the sounds of hearts breaking. Jeno could see you were struggling to hold a smile, and a hundred apologies wouldn’t be enough to express how sorry he felt about all this.

When you finally parted ways, Jeno shoved his hands in his pockets, watching as you walked farther and farther away from him. But no matter how awful he felt, he kept telling himself that things were better this way.

Later that day, Misun was starting to panic when you didn’t respond to any of her texts. All you had told her was that Jeno and you met up to talk today, and she hadn’t heard anything from you since then. 

Figuring you had to be back on campus by now, Misun ventured outside to search for you. Just as she was about to pass the space between the engineering building and the liberal arts building, the sound of someone crying stopped and made her pause. 

That was when she found you nearly crumpled to the ground with your hands pressed against your eyes, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“(Y/n)?” she called out cautiously, crouching down beside you.

You didn’t look up, but your voice trembled as you replied. “I feel so stupid for crying. It's not like we were even together.”

This heavy feeling of sadness was unfamiliar, a weight you hadn’t carried before. Confusion mingled with sorry, leaving you uncertain about its source. Was it disappointment? Betrayal? Or simply the abrupt end of something that never fully began?

“How can you not be upset?” Misun affirmed gently. “He’s your first love.”

Hearing her words caused more tears to well up in your eyes, and you buried your head in your knees. It suddenly dawned on you that Jeno had been your first love. You had heard too many stories of first loves ending bitterly, but you never expected it to hurt this much. As much as you wanted to harbor resentment for what happened, you couldn’t find it in you to be angry. Instead, you were left to pick up the shattered pieces of your heart.

Meanwhile, Jeno sat in a dimly lit bar, three empty bottles of soju strewn across the table. Jaemin watched sympathetically as his distraught friend poured more into his glass. It was unusual for the both of them to drink, a clear indicator to Jaemin of just how deeply Jeno was affected by the situation. 

“So you ended things with her?” Jaemin asked, eyeing Jeno as he downed the shot.

“It’s what I had to do,” he murmured in response, his voice hoarse.

His gaze fixed on his reflection through the shot glass, and he saw the misery etched on his face. Gosh, he was a complete mess. How had everything gone so wrong?

Jeno heard Jaemin sigh as he patted him on the shoulder, offering a small measure of comfort. “You did the right thing, Jeno-yah,” he assured him. “Maybe it’s for the best, you know?”

Maybe the alcohol had finally set into his system as Jeno placed his glass firmly on the table. Memories of all his stolen moments with you flooded his mind, and he felt the sting of tears springing to his eyes. Cursing under his breath, he harshly swiped at them with his hand, feeling pathetic.

Jaemin pretended not to notice he was crying and silently stayed by his side. What else could he say? He knew how much Jeno liked you, and it was unfortunate that things unfolded this way. If Jeno was feeling this devastated, Jaemin could only imagine the turmoil you must be going through.

Perhaps, this was simply one of those instances where nobody found their happy ending.

════════

Eventually, the sharp sting you initially felt was gradually replaced by a dull ache in your heart. Misun made an effort to lift your spirits was appreciated. Some of your other friends noticed your despondency lately. But you brushed off their concerns with the excuse that you were just tired, feeling guilty for damping the mood.

All the crying and emotional turmoil had drained you of energy. The smiles you offered customers at the café felt strained, and focusing on assignments required every ounce of motivation you could muster.

Having to see Jeno from time to time at club meetings only made things more difficult. You tried not to make eye contact, yet sometimes you couldn't escape the weight of his sorrowful gaze, which tugged at your heart. Even sitting in the playroom surrounded by cats no longer brought you the joy it once did, not even when a kitten nestled snugly in your lap.

Nervously, you exhaled as you stood outside of the dance team’s practice room. You had finally gathered the courage to return Jisung’s hoodie, which had been neatly washed weeks ago. It had been neatly washed a while ago, but you had been hesitant to see Jisung after everything, fearing the awkwardness. Thus, the light blue clothing had been sitting untouched on the top of your dresser for some time.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” Jisung’s surprised voice snapped you out of your thoughts. The other students exiting through the door briefly glanced at the two of you as they passed by.

Straightening your posture, your mind raced to find the words you had prepared. “I–uh, I wanted to give this back to you,” you said, holding out the hoodie. “Sorry it took me so long to return it.”

Jisung slowly accepted the hoodie with a grateful smile. “It’s okay, thanks for giving it back.”

You returned his smile, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders ease. As you exhaled softly, a sense of relief washed over you. This was the moment where you could simply excuse yourself and make your exit. Yet, looking at Jisung stirred a mix of emotions within you.

“Do…do you have time to talk?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

The tall male standing in front of you remained silent, hesitating for a moment. Eventually, he gave you a small nod and you spared him a grateful look, heading outside the building to find a bench to sit on.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your nerves. Despite all the mental preparation you did the previous night, you didn’t feel as ready as you’d hoped. Jisung’s tense posture made it clear he wasn’t exactly calm either.

“I…I just wanted to say I’m really sorry, Jisung,” you finally spoke, glancing down at your shoes. “I didn’t realize you felt that way about me, and I never meant to come between you and Jeno.”

Jisung’s expression softened, and he laughed awkwardly. “It’s not your fault, (Y/n). You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Though his voice was reassuring, you still felt incredibly guilty for causing conflict between him and Jeno. As a moment of silence passed, a pang of sadness lingered within you. Jisung had always been so genuine with you, yet you couldn’t give him the answer he wanted.

“I think you’re an amazing person, Jisung-ah,” you said, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your voice. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and I’m always at ease when I’m with you.”

Jisung inhaled deeply, a wistful smile playing on his lips. “Thank you, (Y/n). It makes me happy to hear that.”

Smiling back, you folded your hands in your lap. “I’m sorry I can’t return your feelings…”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Feelings aren’t something we can control, so there’s no need to be sorry.”

You looked up, surprised by the maturity in his response. Honestly, you hadn’t considered it from that perspective until he brought it up. But you still knew that this couldn’t be easy for him. Nobody liked rejection.

“I guess you have a point. But I know that the girl who ends up with you will be very lucky,” you said, gently.

He glanced at you appreciatively. “It means a lot to hear you say that, thank you.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the heaviness of the conversation hanging in the air. Sensing that it might be a good time to part ways, you stood up from the bench.

“I guess I should get going,” you cleared your throat quietly. “I’ve probably taken up enough of your time already.”

Jisung shook his head and assured, “No, you’re all good. I’m glad we talked.”

“Me too,” you hummed in response, definitely feeling like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Following you, he rose from the bench and paused briefly before extending his hand. 

“Thank you, (Y/n),” he said, his voice catching slightly. “For being my first love.”

You could see the tears glossing over his eyes, tugging at your heartstrings. Trying to hold back your own tears, you accepted his handshake with a sad smile.

Nodding gently, a lump formed in your throat. “Thank you too, for being such a great friend,” you whispered softly, afraid that tears might escape if you spoke any louder.

With heavy hearts, you both shook hands firmly before parting ways. Jisung sighed as you departed first. Things hadn’t turned out the way he had wanted them, but he couldn’t just stay hung up on what could’ve been.

Despite the bittersweet swirl of emotions inside him, he couldn’t help but smile as he watched you walk farther away. For his first love, he could at least say it ended with no regrets.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ reconciling

Jeno had been navigating through days that felt like weeks, his usual routine disrupted by the absence of you and his strained relationship with Jisung. Even though he had done everything he could to make up for his actions, he couldn’t rid himself of the gloominess that clouded his every thought. His mind constantly replayed the events that led to this rift between him and Jisung.

So when his phone screen lit up with a message from Jisung, asking to meet after class, Jeno’s heart raced with a mixture of apprehension and hope. They agreed to meet at the PC bang they went to all the time during their high school days. Jeno remembered all the trouble they got into when their parents found out he and Jisung were skipping their after-school programs to go there.

Jisung was already there by the time he arrived, sitting in their usual spot near the middle of the back row. Peering at his screen, Jeno noticed he was already warming up with an old game they used to play. 

“Hey,” Jeno greeted cautiously, trying to keep the awkwardness out of his voice as he settled into the gaming chair next to him.

Other than the nod of acknowledgement he received, Jisung’s expression remained unreadable. The younger male briefly glanced up at him, his fingers pausing on the rainbow keyboard.

“Want to start with PUBG?” Jisung asked, his voice lacking the cold tone from their last interaction.

Jeno’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he nodded with a smile. Soon enough, the familiar click of keyboards and the hum of the PC field the air as they dove into the game. Within ten minutes of playing, they were high school students again, shouting at each other as they fought through the virtual battlegrounds together.

“Ugh I died again,” Jisung groaned in frustration, leaning back in his seat.

Jeno shook his head with a chuckle. “I told you to go the other way!”

In the last seconds of the game, Jeno let his character die and pushed back from the computer slightly. The laughter died down as the flashbacks of recent events seemed to cross both of their minds. Feeling more response as the older one in this friendship, Jeno was the first to speak up.

“I’m really sorry, Jisung-ah,” he began earnestly. “You have every right to be upset with me. I should’ve just talked to you when things started to change. But I wasn’t being honest with myself either, and you got hurt because of me.”

Jisung remained silent, his gaze distant as he processed Jeno’s apology. After a tense moment, he finally responded, his voice calm but tinged with lingering hurt.

“I know you’re sorry, Hyung. You betrayed my trust, and seeing you kiss (Y/n) that night...it felt like you pulled the rug out from under me,” he replied softly, leaning his head against the chair. 

A familiar pang of guilt surged within Jeno. He knew his actions were inexcusable and he didn’t expect Jisung to forgive him immediately, or perhaps ever. Regardless, he was grateful for the opportunity to offer a sincere apology.

“But…” Jisung’s voice then trailed off, his grip on the mouse loosening. “I understand that you can’t really control who you have feelings for. And after thinking about it a lot, I realize I wouldn’t have known how to bring it up if I were in your shoes.”

Jeno felt a sudden wave of relief crash onto him, filled with gratitude for his Jisung’s understanding. He couldn’t help but be impressed with his friend’s maturity. When had scaredy-cat Park Jisung grown up so much?

“Thank you for saying that…and I really am sorry,” he said, his voice carrying genuine conviction.

Jisung waved him off, his nose scrunching in slight disgust. “Hyung, stop apologizing. It’s getting weird,” he said with a chuckle, reminding Jeno that not everything about Jisung had changed.

The two of them shared a laugh, and Jeno finally started to feel like things were returning to normal. Well, almost everything. There was still one lingering regret that stuck in the back of Jeno’s mind. Although he didn’t say anything, Jisung sensed it too.

As they prepared for the next game to start, Jisung tapped on his keyboard in contemplation before deciding to say something.

“You know, (Y/n) came to talk to me a few days ago,” he said, “I kinda had a feeling before the festival happened, but it’s obvious you both care about each other a lot.”

Jeno found himself blinking in surprise, unsure if he was hearing correctly. Slumping back in his seat, he shook his head in denial. “No…it doesn’t matter. I’ve already decided to step back.”

Especially not after everything that happened. Although his heartbeat still sped up at the thought of you and catching a glimpse of you around campus pulled at his emotions, he didn’t want to reopen wounds that had nearly cost him his best friend.

“It’s okay hyung,” Jisung said, leaning forward with a reassuring smile. “I can tell you really like her. You should be together.”

Jeno leaned back in his seat, his mouse hovering over the computer screen for a moment.

“Are you sure you'd be okay with it?” he asked tentatively.

Jisung nodded firmly, his expression turning serious. “Yeah. But if you hurt her, I won’t forgive you Hyung.”

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Jeno promised sincerely. “Thanks Jisung-ah”

The two exchanged understanding smiles before refocusing on the game. Jeno finally felt like he could breathe again. Now, without having to hold back his feelings anymore, maybe he could have a second chance with you.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ baby steps

Before immediately running to you, Jeno made a conscious effort to wait a bit. Despite Jisung’s assurances— practically fifty times now— that he was cool with it, Jeno still wanted to be cautious. He also wasn’t entirely sure if you still had feelings for him. Honestly, he couldn’t blame you if that turned out to be your response.

It wasn’t until the end of the week, during a club meeting about organizing a fundraiser event for the animal shelter later in the month, that he finally saw you again. The room was abuzz with chatter and plans, but Jeno’s focus was on you. You were seated across the table from him, intently listening to the discussion.

After knowing you for a while, Jeno noticed that you tended to stay quiet in group settings, listening attentively to whoever was speaking. You seemed more comfortable when talking one-on-one or with just a few people. Even then, you spoke softly and blushed easily when you felt the focus shift to you. But he found that side of you to be kind of cute. Actually, he thought your entire personality was quite endearing.

As the meeting finally wrapped up and people began to disperse, Jaemin caught Jeno’s eye. Without saying a word, Jaemin made a not-so-subtle gesture toward you as you packed away your laptop. Jeno’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, but he knew what his friend was encouraging him to do.

After exhaling deeply, Jeno pushed himself to approach you as more people left the room. Determined to take this step, he ignored the way his heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. 

“Wait, (Y/n)!” He called out before he could chicken out.

Catching your attention, you turned around looking a bit surprised. But you quickly recovered, your eyebrows raising with careful curiosity. 

“Oh Sunbae, did you need something?”

For a second, Jeno’s brain momentarily forgot how to form words. “No, I—uh…I wanted to ask if you have a minute?”

He noticed a flicker of uncertainty pass through your eyes as you nervously gripped the strap of your bag. Nevertheless, you managed a small nod and pulled out your chair to sit down.

Thankful for the lack of a negative response, Jeno took a seat across from you. His fingers drummed nervously against the table as he scrambled to recall the speech he had half-prepared. However, your patient gaze helped him relax a little.

“So, um I met up with Jisung the other day,” Jeno started to explain, rubbing the back of his neck. “We had to talk through some things, and I apologized. He forgave me and now we’re all good.”

Your eyes brightened at this news, and you placed a hand over your chest in relief. “Oh, thank goodness. I was really worried I ruined things for you two.”

He shook his head with a reassuring smile, “No, you didn’t ruin anything. I was the one who made a mess of things. But Jisung was pretty understanding about it all, which I’m grateful for.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you breathed.

Jeno could hear the sincerity in your voice, which he appreciated. Pausing for a moment, he glanced down at his hands before speaking again.

"He also said that it’s okay for us to be together," Jeno said, hastily adding, "But I completely understand if you don’t want to give me a second chance. Especially after everything that happened.”

It took you a minute or two to digest his words, trying to process this sudden information. Then a small smile began to form on your lips, and he watched as your gaze lowered shyly.

“Well if Jisung is truly alright with it, then I guess I’m open to that,” you replied softly, your smile growing warmer. 

Jeno’s face lit up with relief and a glimmer of joy. “That’s great to hear because…I really like you, (Y/n).”

His confession made you blush, a giddy feeling welling up inside. Though he had technically kissed you first that one time, he hadn’t given a clear response when you first confessed. So you were elated by the confirmation that your feelings were not unrequited.

Being the socially awkward individuals you were, neither of you were sure what to do next. But Jeno stood up first, swinging his school bag around his shoulder.

“If you don’t have anything else planned today,” he asked with a hopeful expression. “Do you want to go grab a meal or something?”

Your smile remained, and you got up from your chair. “If food is involved, I’m in.”

Jeno chuckled warmly at your response, his heart beating rapidly with excitement as he held the door open for the two of you to exit the room together. As you both made your way outside, a moment of hesitation flickered between you. 

With the dynamics between you two having shifted significantly in just a few minutes, you were uncertain about navigating the new boundaries. As both of you internally pondered this, you exchanged subtle glances and shared a nervous laugh.

“Maybe we should take things slow,” you quietly suggested. “Like baby steps, you know?”

Although you couldn’t help but think of that passionate kiss you first shared. Back then, you and Jeno certainly jumped a few levels and things didn’t end that great.

Jeno was quick to nod in agreement, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, unsure of where to start with taking “baby steps.” Deciding to be brave, Jeno gently took your hand in his, your fingers intertwining perfectly.

“Is holding hands okay for now?” He asked with a smile so adorable it made your heart flutter.

Trying to suppress your shyness, you nodded tentatively in response. The warmth of his hand contrasting with your own slightly cool one felt both comforting and reassuring. It was like that day he saved you from the motorcycle, his touch was gentle yet protective. Now that you thought about it, you got that feeling from kissing him too. But that type of thing could wait a little bit. Baby steps, you reminded yourself.

After holding back feelings for so long and dealing with some obstacles, both of you found joy in simply holding hands. Jeno hadn’t felt this laid back in a long time.

No more hiding or fighting his feelings. Finally, he could breathe freely and follow his heart.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

~ epilogue

Time flew by a lot quicker than Jeno expected. It felt like he blinked and suddenly three months had flown by with you. Since that day, his feelings for you only grew stronger and it felt so great not having to hide them anymore. Jeno couldn’t help but also notice how your smiles seemed brighter when you were together. Once the initial shyness wore off, your conversations flowed effortlessly, deepening your understanding of each other with each passing day.

The weather was getting warmer, and Jeno had fallen into this routine of walking you home after you got off your shifts at the café. The street lamps cast a soft glow, illuminating the path as you stroll hand in hand.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me to my dorm every night,” you said, gently bumping your shoulder against his. “Especially when you have an eight a.m. class the next morning.”

Jeno smiled to himself, squeezing your hand lightly. “Yeah, but I want to. Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you walk back alone when it’s dark out?”

You sighed in defeat, realizing it was hard to argue with his logic. And if you were being honest with yourself, you did appreciate getting to spend some extra time with him. Jeno's lips curled into a satisfied smile, pleased that you didn't protest further. A comfortable silence enveloped you both as you walked, savoring the simple pleasure of each other’s company.

“Hey, don’t you think Jisung and Misun are getting closer lately?” you asked, the thought suddenly popped into your mind.

His eyes met yours with a hint of surprise. “You noticed too? I thought I was the only one.”

“Well, Misun hasn’t said anything to me outright,” you mused, “But I catch them exchanging glances with each other all the time.”

Jeno chuckled, knowing how you picked up on these things so quickly. Ironically enough, you seemed completely oblivious to how he used to stare at you all the time before dating.

Nodding in agreement, he added, “Yeah, and apparently Jisung saw Misun’s performance for cheer at the festival. I guess he’s been kind of impressed by her ever since.”

You felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of your friends getting together. Misun had mentioned to you that Jisung was helping her come up with a new routine for her upcoming cheer competition. Those two have definitely been spending more time together, and you were all for it.

“They’d look so cute together,” you sighed dreamily, picturing them in your mind.

Jeno glanced down at his shoes, frowning a little. “But not cuter than us, right?”

Your head turned to see the subtle pout of jealousy on his lips, making you giggle. After being with him for a while, you learned that your boyfriend tended to get sulky quite often. Before your shyness could kick in, you reached up on the tip of your toes to give him a small peck.

Gently stroking his cheek with your thumb, you paused to reassure him. “Of course not. I think Jaemin Sunbae said we’re the type of cute that single people envy.”

Any trace of sulkiness slowly faded from his handsome face, replaced by his adorable eye smile. His strong arms instinctively encircled around your waist, drawing you closer to him. Gazing lovingly into your eyes, he brushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. The familiar unspoken attraction crackled in the air and the two of you leaned in naturally for a sweet kiss.

Unlike your first kiss, this one unfolded slowly, with the passion simmering gently between you. Jeno easily forgot everything around him, one of his hands getting lost in your hair while the other held you securely against him. Meanwhile, your hands rested comfortably on his broad shoulders, delighting in the sensation of his lips guiding yours in a series of tender, warm kisses.

However, you were the first to pull away, knowing that this moment sadly couldn’t last forever. The night was already growing late, and a nagging voice in the back of your mind warned you to be more careful. 

“As much as I’d love to keep going, we’re going to get penalized for missing curfew again,” you mumbled, lightly squeezing his hand.

Jeno frowned, clearly displeased about the abrupt end to the kiss. But he knew you were right. For some reason, your RA was super strict about everyone being in their dorm rooms by 10 p.m.

With a sigh of resignation, he nodded reluctantly and allowed you to start walking again. But Jeno couldn’t be upset for long, knowing he’d have plenty more opportunities to feel your soft, pillowy lips against his. He was a little clingy when it came to you, and thankfully you didn’t seem to mind.

Though Jeno felt pretty miserable earlier in the semester, now he couldn’t be happier to be alive. With Jisung still as his best friend and now having you by his side, he felt like he could accomplish anything.

Being in love had that sort of effect on people, Jeno supposed. And he had a feeling you would agree with him on that too.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[cyupie]

✦ unsaid, unheard

neito monoma x gn!reader

angst to sort of comfort

word count: 2k

second person pov + purposeful all lowercase + not proof read and written late at night

✦ summary

neito monoma lets himself live in denial about his feelings towards you; it's only until you two actually drift apart that he realizes what he's lost.

you & neito had been friends for longer than you can remember; always aspiring to make it to u.a. together and become the top heroes. you remember the face he made when you both made it in, how he spun you around and treated both of you to some macarons right after. it was the best day of both of your lives.

he was always thoughtful, even if he never really confided in you — you were best friends, though, you always knew how he felt even if he didn’t say it out loud. neito knew you better than you knew yourself and vice versa. his favorite boba place & order, how he scrunches his nose up when he’s focused, and the way his eyes crinkle when he’s really really happy are forever ingrained in your memory.

you don’t know how to tell him you think you’ve fallen in love with him. you don’t think you ever will once you see how he starts to look at itsuka kendo during your second year. it’s a gradual thing — ditching your usual meetups to go see her, taking her to the new mini store that he refused to check out with you last week, the way he smiles at her — it makes your heart ache when you can’t remember the last time he smiled like that with you.

you love neito monoma.

neito monoma loves itsuka kendo.

so, you don’t tell him. you swear that you aren’t going to ruin it for neito and itsuka because they look so happy when they’re together. people grow apart all the time; this is no different from any other friendship. you barely think about him (he’s the only thing on your mind at night) and maybe you’re even doing better off without him (your heart hurts when you see him with her).

it’s been two months since you last spoke when he finally confronts you. you were walking out of class when he drags you to the side with a stern look on his face; neito looks conflicted. he’s not worried, he reassures (you’re the only thing on his mind when everything is quiet and he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that he still thinks of you instead of itsuka when something good happens).

“i just want to know why you’re avoiding me.” he lies.

“i’m not avoiding you.” you lie back.

both of you see right through each other. neither of you comment on it.

neito thinks he wants to cry, or scream, or shake you — he doesn’t do any of that. he just sighs. “fine,” the blonde huffs as he turns away from you. “i don’t care anyways.” neito hopes you’ll say something about his blatant lie. you stay quiet.

he doesn’t see you for the next few days, he knows you’re avoiding him. neito knows you better than he’ll ever admit. the way you looked at him when he first said he thinks he has a crush on itsuka drove him insane; he tries not to think about it anymore. there’s no point.

when he’s with her, he thinks it’s love — he wants her near him all the time and he likes when she pays attention to him and he wants to do all the things he did with you but with her now. neito ignores the pit in his chest when he realizes how long it’s been since you two have hung out.

neito monoma loves itsuka kendo.

neito monoma doesn’t care about you.

it’s fine. him and itsuka have even gotten together now, this is the happiest he’s ever been. neito swears it on his life that she makes him happier than anyone else can. he sees itsuka’s confusion when he accidentally orders your usual at the boba shop instead of hers; your tastes are so different that it’s hard to believe he could mix them up.

when he offers itsuka his own drink and takes the one you usually get instead, he thinks of you the whole time he’s drinking it. have you been to this place since you two stopped talking? neito stomps the thought away as quickly as it comes.

you seem ok, he thinks (he sees the bags under your eyes). you have new friends who’ll probably treat you better than he ever did growing up (why does it hurt to think that?). neito stops and realizes how much he misses you when he hears your favorite song come on the radio — he remembers listening to you scream along to it anytime you heard it.

he finds you after school, talking to some kid from class 1a (why them? why not him? was he not enough for you anymore?) and he thinks he’s going to cry. neito smirks, instead, and leans against the wall before laughing, “so this is where you’ve been? going behind our class’ back to hang out with these hero wannabes?”

he doesn’t know why he says that.

“oh,” is all you say at first and he wants to apologize over and over again until you stop looking at him like that. why do you look at him like you don’t care anymore? why can’t you look at him like you did before you both came to u.a. — before itsuka? “did you need something?”

neito pauses. no, he didn’t; why was he here?

“just wondering where our little y/n went; haven’t seen them in a hot minute.” he remarked, trying to look as nonchalant as he could. neito internally grimaced at his choice of words.

“you see me in class everyday.” you point out.

“and then you disappear to who knows where.”

“i don’t see a problem.”

“i do.”

“why?”

i don’t know, his thoughts answer. why does he have an issue with it? you two have been drifting apart for a while. it was inevitable, friendships don’t last forever (neito’s heart aches when he thinks of never talking to you again).

“because you’re hanging out with those 1a losers instead of us,” he settles with, ignoring the way his subconscious corrects it to instead of me.

“they’re my friends.” you argue, seemingly defensive over them.

“and i’m not?”

“are you?” your question makes you both share a look. your friend has long gone, unsure of how to deal with this seemingly personal argument between you two. you find the words repeating in your own head. it doesn’t feel like you’re still friends.

so why do you still feel that pit in your chest when you look at him and remember how much you love how pretty his eyes are, or how that one strand of hair never stays where neito wants it to and he has to fix it constantly throughout the day.

you find yourself hoping he says yes.

he walks away, instead.

it hurts more than you’d ever admit; neito doesn’t want you to see how much it hurts that he can’t even call you his friend anymore. neito doesn’t want to admit that it’s his fault, either.

he goes to itsuka for comfort — she’s always been good at that. she strokes his hair softly and is so much softer with him than she’s ever been; why does it make the ache in his heart feel worse? why does he look up at her and expect — hope — to see your face instead?

neito can’t shake the thoughts away this time.

whenever he walks into class, he looks for you first; whenever he’s practicing, he wonders who you’ve been partnered with; whenever he gets a sliver of free time, he thinks what’s y/n doing? it drives him insane. it isn’t until he breaks down to itsuka about it that her response makes him realize anything.

“i think we should break up, neito.” she says calmly. neito thinks his whole world is ending around him.

“what? why?” he finds himself asking. he thought they were doing good, he wanted to talk and communicate; she’s always told him how important it is to communicate. why is this her reaction?

she gives him a pitying look — suddenly, he’s not so upset. irritated would be a better word.

“don’t tell me you don’t see it.”

“see what? why are you being so cryptic?”

“neito, you poor, poor soul.” itsuka sighs and neito finds himself wishing you were there more than he ever has before. you wouldn’t have been so vague with him about whatever this is, you’d have been straight to the point.

and then it clicks.

it clicks how badly he messed up. suddenly, itsuka’s unclear words and her (well-meaning) laughter at his wide eyes makes so much sense. suddenly, he wishes he could take this whole year back. it feels like all the walls he worked so hard to build up are crumbling around him as his feelings jumble and he doesn’t know how to feel anymore.

neito monoma doesn’t know who he loves.

it’s a few weeks later, and the school year has flown by. valentine’s day is coming around the corner and you find yourself wondering how neito is. he loved cheesy things, the stereotypical and the type of things that only happened in stories or tv shows — you wondered how he was going to cope with itsuka having broken up with him so close to valentine’s.

and then there’s a knock on your door at 1am on valentine’s day morning. you shuffle around, not knowing who it is. you don’t really care; your hair is a mess and you’re in your pajamas and just about ready to scold the hell out of whoever’s—

neito.

he has a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers (or at least, the ones that remind him of you the most) and a bag filled with gifts. he’s looking at you expectantly and his face is flushed and you’re not sure what to say or how to feel or why he’s even here in the first place. you two just stare at each other for a minute.

“hi.” neito greets. he looks like he immediately wanted to say anything else and shrink back into a corner never to be seen again after he realizes how awkward this whole thing is.

“hi.” you say back. you’re no better than he is.

he holds out the bouquet of flowers and neito’s holding back a million words in his head as you take them. “i got you stuff,” he blurts out as he gestures to the bag in his hand.

“i can see,” and he looks like he’s just about ready to give up on this whole endeavor. you pause. you’re staring again. neito stares back.

you sigh, opening the door further and gesturing for the other to come in. he doesn’t hesitate as he steps in and moves to the side for you to awkwardly shuffle around him and shut the door. neito sets the bag on the ground and you put the bouquet on its side on your desk.

all you can do is wonder what you’re going to do with them as he starts taking out the gifts.

it’s your favorite snacks and a plushie of your favorite animal — he’s sure it hasn’t changed — and a gift card to that damn boba place. he’s looking at you and waiting for a response and you just stare. neito thinks he’s done something horribly, horribly wrong when you start crying.

“hey, wait- i’m sorry. why are you..” his voice trails off as he looks at you. he never knew how to comfort people, no matter how eloquent he was with his insults and endless rants about 1a. and you’re staring up at him with tear-filled eyes and he feels his heart break for the thousandth time.

all you can manage is, “i thought you hated me.”

and he pauses. he looks at you and you look at him and more gently than you think he’s ever done anything before he brings you into a hug and you’re safe. neito doesn’t say a word; he doesn’t need to. he doesn’t like to be vulnerable, he’s never liked being vulnerable.

but you’re here in his arms and he knows you understand that better than anyone. you’ve always understood. he’s so stupid for having never noticed it — you — before.

neito monoma loves you.

© cyupie   do not plagiarize, translate, feed to ai, or repost my works to any other websites

[alottiegoingon]

hc! shauna shipman has a crush on you

shauna shipman x fem!reader

summary: shauna is awful at hiding her crush on you and you're too slow to realize her feelings and your own

warnings: just fluff but characters are aged up anyway, shauna and reader being two awkward losers in love, VERY cliche and cheesy moments wow

valentines day bonus at the end<3

it was just another friday when shauna shipman saw you in school. you were talking to your best friend lottie matthews in the cafeteria while making plans to go to the mall on the weekend and steal buy some new clothes for a party next week

you had the most genuine and adorable smile ever on your face and shauna didn’t even need to get closer to you to notice how beautiful you look. your eyes appeared smaller thanks to your huge grin and you were looking like a model even though you were just wearing your uniform from the soccer team. shauna didn’t care, you were stunning

you and shauna knew each other before that, of course. you were both in the soccer team, the yellowjackets. she wasn’t as popular as her best friend, jackie taylor, but she also wasn’t a loser too scared to talk to people her age like you. at first when you joined the team, you were terrified intimidated by her presence. it was something about how those dark eyes were always staring at you so intensely that it felt like she could see right through you and read your soul. it was scary!

eventually, you got used to it. well, only when you two got the opportunity to talk. it made you realize that shauna wasn’t that bad. she was just insecure

“you were really good today." was your awkward attempt to get closer to shauna and face your 'fear' of her once and for all

"just today?" her words made you freeze and you immediately regretted taking the first step when her death gaze met yours. "n-no! i mean, you did great today but you are always so good and i-" but then, in less than five seconds, she softens and begins to smile for some reason you didn't know but was too scared to ask. you quit talking immediately and it took you a while to figure it out that she was just kidding. oh, right. she was laughing at how cute you were all desperate like that

since that day you two would talk everyday. it was very awkward and even silent at first but gradually you became friends. jackie was obviously very jealous of you and she would give you death stares for the first few weeks until you fully got into her heart

slowly, that pair of brown scary eyes shifted into something more comfortable in the field. you weren’t scared to go to practice and see her anymore

every single morning before getting off bed, shauna shipman would pray to god (and she wasn't even religious) for you to talk to her again and you would be so upset when she skipped practice for the day cause that meant that you would be unable to catch her staring at you and make your heart beat faster when you both look away as fast as you can

shauna also wasn’t afraid of looking at you anymore. it began with curiosity filling her eyes as if you were some kind of strange creature from another planet. she would study every single inch of you and it would make you nervous cause you thought that she probably hated you. then, it overwhelmed her with happiness every time she had her eyes on you. she had this fuzzy and warm sensation on her chest and it made her heart race. her breath would get stuck in her throat every time you waved at her and skipped towards her after practice even if it was just to say hi

even in parties, the girls would be hanging out all together and shauna would be there glued to jackie with a blank expression, clearly not wanting to be there. she was so upset that she was forced to go that stupid party that she would say the meanest things just to annoy everyone like a spoiled child until you step in and her face goes all red IMMEDIATELY and suddenly she’s speechless

“hi… i didn’t know you were coming…” says shauna with the softest voice EVER after mentally cursing every single person on that party. she definitely knew that you were coming cause she paid attention to you in class and how you were planning to go to this party with lottie. she wasn’t all teeth cause she was trying to keep her reputation intact but it was so easy to notice her lips twitching to a cute awkward smile

when the party was getting too wild and crowded, you two would sneak out to somewhere quiet to talk and gossip, giggling until your stomachs were hurting and not being able to stop

"i know it will make me sound like a loser but i hate these crowded parties. sometimes i wish i was a koala. they sleep for hours and are always high up in the trees and far from people"

and shauna looks at you extremely confused like "what the fuck did this girl just said" but immediately agrees just cause she loves hearing you and would agree to anything you said

"yeah. me too" and she's staring at you with dilated huge ass pupils and a look of endearment

valentines day bonus

you and the girls were discussing valentines day a week before while practicing and you mentioned how you really wanted to have a partner to give you silly little cards and shauna was the first one to make fun of you and say how cheesy that was

shauna hated valentines day. the entire school consisted in a bunch of touchy teenagers kissing and hugging and it would make her want to throw up >:(

(secretly, she was just jealous of them. she was very good at hiding behing a tough shell and pretend that she was way too good for relationships. maybe she was just scared)

come on, why whould she want to receive a stupid card from someone she didn't even care about? it was so cliché and idiotic and she-

"happy valentines day, shipman!" you poke her shoulder before handling her the most cliché card ever. you tried to be cool but you were sweating like a pig when handling it to her and waiting for her reaction

the color vanished from shauna's face for a moment and went back to fully red while she was staring at you completely still, blinking in shock. she didn't seem mad or feeling like throwing up though. not at all. she grabbed the card from your hands and rolled her eyes after reading it

"the field is green the sky is blue soccer is awesome and so are you!"

"jesus christ, that's awful." she complains but you see a smile peeking into her lips when she looks away to hide from you. such a softie!!! "are you smiling?" you tease her

"of course not. shut up, alright?" she immediately shakes her head as an attempt to make her cheeks less red and her smile vanish.

"whatever. i have something for you." she tried to sound serious as she shoves her hand inside her backpack to let it out a pink card that made your eyes glow

"you koalafy to be my valentine"

"wow, shipman..." differently from shauna, you weren't scared to smile and show her how happy you were. its not like you were able to control it either way. but just like her, your cheeks were burning red and you felt special about her memorizing the stupid things you say.

"no. i don't wanna hear a word."

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (Part 3) - Kaz Brekker x reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 3.9k

notes: please let me know what you think <3

@coldmermaidhologram

They spent three nights in a row together. The first night, Kaz managed to sleep for a few hours, pressed against the wall, feeling uncomfortable and overly conscious of their proximity. The second night, he felt a bit more at ease, gradually becoming more comfortable with their bodies casually brushing against each other in the bed. By the third night, he simply plopped onto her bed after changing.

"Still watching this awful show about horses?" Kaz sighed heavily, glancing at the screen resting on her stomach.

"I like it. You know I have a crush on that actor with the blue eyes," she replied, pressing play again.

Kaz shook his head, checking his phone absently. He found three messages from Inej, asking if he could call her. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, moving to a corner of the room and signaling for her to lower the volume.

Inej picked up on the first ring. His mind raced with all the possible things he could say if she started asking where he was. But she didn’t. Inej talked about a few things that had happened to her that day, wanting to share without writing long texts. Kaz listened attentively, humming occasionally and offering affirmations. The phone call ended sooner than he expected.

He made his way back to the bed. "Everything okay?" y/n asked, pressing play again on her show.

Guilt gnawed at him. It was the third night he had shared a bed with another woman—a woman he was able to kiss, touch, and cuddle, feeling more comfortable than he did with his actual girlfriend, who was miles away and seemingly oblivious to his absence. Kaz wrestled with conflicting emotions each time he lay beside y/n, torn between the warmth and familiarity they shared and the loyalty he owed to Inej.

On those nights they spent together, Kaz and y/n navigated their closeness carefully, determined to set some sort of boundary. They never indulged in unnecessary touches or kisses, aware of the line they were skirting and the consequences it could bring. Kaz's heart ached with guilt as he lay awake beside her, wondering how he had found himself in this complicated situation.

"Kaz?" y/n insisted, her shoulder gently brushing against his.

"Yeah, everything's fine," he shrugged nonchalantly, focusing on the show but unable to shake the guilt from his mind.

That night, Kaz was particularly exhausted. The previous two nights had been restless, and finally, he managed to sleep through the night, only awakening to the soft light filtering through the window and the sound of soft chatting coming from the kitchen. y/n wasn’t in bed with him, and he realized she was talking with her roommates.

For a moment, he lay there, feeling torn. Guilt ate at him for betraying Inej’s trust, even if they hadn’t explicitly discussed the boundaries of their relationship when it came to physical intimacy. He knew he should feel more guilty about it, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the simple comfort and familiarity he found with y/n.

Kaz listened intently to the conversation unfolding in the kitchen, feeling a mixture of discomfort and intrigue. The casual banter among y/n and her roommates revealed a side of her life he had only glimpsed before—the world of her other clients, her professional boundaries, and the assumptions others made about their relationship.

"He’s sleeping in your bed? Again?" roommate one's voice cut through the air, disbelief evident in her tone.

"Yes," y/n replied simply, her voice tinged with resignation.

"And you still haven’t had sex?" roommate two questioned incredulously.

"Yes," she repeated, her annoyance palpable now.

"Come on, y/n, you’re playing with fire," roommate one chimed in, a note of caution in her voice that piqued Kaz's interest.

"I am not," y/n protested, her voice firm.

"You have to stop falling for your clients," the secretary, whom Kaz recognized, interjected firmly.

Kaz's brows furrowed deeply, his mind racing to process the implications of what he had just overheard. Until now, he had compartmentalized his time with y/n as a mutual arrangement—a way to satisfy physical needs without emotional entanglement. But now, hearing the roommates' candid discussion, a new reality unfolded before him.

The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He had been so careful to keep their interactions within certain boundaries, driven by his own set of rules to protect himself from getting too attached. Yet, the conversation he had just eavesdropped on suggested a complexity he hadn't anticipated.

"It happened once, and I’m not falling for anyone, he’s just doing a sweet thing for his girlfriend," y/n defended herself, but her tone wavered slightly.

"Yeah, sure. I would really like to know what the girlfriend thinks about you having your dirty hands all over her boyfriend," roommate two retorted, the sarcasm evident in her voice.

Kaz's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Inej.

"Don’t play dumb with us," roommate two continued mercilessly, "just wait until he discovers that after kissing him and cuddling him you’re a fucking animal in bed." The other girls erupted in laughter, and Kaz's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You think we wouldn’t notice that you move your more, let’s say peculiar, clients away from his sessions, after he almost fainted when he heard you scream your lungs out with that man?" the secretary added, her tone cutting.

"Or your multiple clients, bet he never saw more than one man coming out of your room," roommate one chimed in, her voice laced with accusation.

"It’s just a coincidence," y/n attempted to defend herself weakly, but her voice lacked conviction.

"She’s gone, girls," roommate two declared confidently.

"Oh, shut up. I’m not going anywhere, and lower your voice, he’s going to hear you," y/n shot back, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Meanwhile, Kaz quietly got dressed, his mind reeling from the revelations he had overheard. He debated whether to confront y/n about what he had heard or to maintain his silence. Unsure of what to do, he peeked into the kitchen, where the girls were gathered around having breakfast.

"Hi, coffee?" y/n greeted him with a smile, though Kaz noticed the underlying tension in her expression.

"No, thanks. I have to go," Kaz replied curtly, hoping to separate y/n from her roommates and discuss what he had overheard privately.

"Can you drop me off at pilates?" y/n asked, her grin trying to mask the unease underneath. "I’m ready to go," she added, gesturing to the sporty outfit she was wearing.

Kaz nodded silently, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach as he led the way out of the kitchen, leaving behind the awkward giggles and lingering doubts that now plagued his mind.

Kaz's heart raced as y/n slid into the passenger seat of his car. Her casual comment about loving the car barely registered as he navigated the streets with practiced ease, his mind still reeling from the conversation he had overheard moments ago.

“You’re a fucking animal in bed.” The words echoed in his mind, and Kaz couldn't shake the image they conjured. What did they mean by that? Was it just banter among her roommates, or did it hint at something more intimate—a side of y/n that he had yet to discover?

His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he tried to focus on the road. The tension in the car was palpable, intensified by the contrast between his racing thoughts and her nonchalant demeanor. She picked up on his distraction, annoyance seeping into her voice as she rifled through his playlist.

“I had to know you listen only to dad rock,” she muttered, clearly irked. Kaz snorted softly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. The playlist was a blend of his and Inej's tastes—two very different worlds colliding in his car.

“You know what would make Inej absolutely feral?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Kaz glanced at her curiously, his interest piqued despite his inner turmoil. 

“I’m all ears,” he replied casually, willing himself to appear composed.

“Lay your hand on my thigh while you drive,” she said with a mischievous grin.

Without hesitation, Kaz did as she asked, his hand finding its place on her thigh. Surprisingly, the touch felt natural, and he found himself squeezing her thigh gently from time to time, relishing the sense of control it gave him.

“Instead, if you want to be sweet, use my hand to change gear,” she continued, her tone teasing yet strangely sincere.

Again, Kaz complied, maneuvering the car smoothly while using her hand to shift gears. He couldn't deny that her suggestions were making him feel more at ease, offering a different kind of intimacy that he hadn't considered before.

As they pulled up in front of her gym, Kaz broke the spell by asking about the club.

“Are you coming to the Crow Club tomorrow night?” he inquired, catching her attention as she prepared to leave the car. Her movement inadvertently drew his gaze to her cleavage, and he quickly averted his eyes.

“Do you want me to?” she countered, her smile playful.

“I could check if we still have tables available,” he suggested casually, hoping to keep her engaged.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” she cooed affectionately, pinching his cheek lightly before stepping out of the car “I’ll come, just for you”.

Kaz watched her walk away in her pink outfit, his thoughts swirling. He sighed heavily, feeling conflicted yet strangely exhilarated by their exchange.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, closing his eyes and leaning back against the seat. The weight of the morning—and the revelations it brought—pressed heavily upon him as he tried to process it all in the quiet solitude of his car.

Kaz parked under his flat and spotted Jesper’s car already there. “Fuck,” he muttered again, the expletive now carrying a sense of resignation. He had barely stepped foot in his house when Jesper started his interrogation.

“Where were you tonight?” Jesper asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Business thing,” Kaz shrugged, making a beeline for the kitchen to make coffee. He needed the ritual to steady his nerves.

“Business thing? Who do you think you're kidding?” Jesper followed him, his tone dripping with skepticism.

“I’m not kidding anyone, it’s true,” Kaz replied, trying to keep his irritation in check. Why was Jesper always so annoyingly persistent?

“Don't treat me like an idiot, Kaz. You are seeing someone.”

“Yeah, sure, I totally am,” Kaz retorted, busying himself with cups and coffee beans. The routine helped him avoid Jesper’s probing gaze.

“Whatever you're doing, don’t hurt Inej, Kaz. She doesn't fucking deserve it.”

“For Ghezen's sake, I'm not doing anything weird, Jesper,” Kaz snapped, his patience wearing thin.

Kaz's phone buzzed, signaling a message. He visibly tensed and made a desperate move to reach it before Jesper could, but he failed.

“Mhm, it's your loving girlfriend, who deserves all of your worship and respect, who wishes you a good day,” Jesper read aloud, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

Kaz nodded, a weight lifting slightly from his shoulders. At least it wasn’t y/n. But Jesper wasn’t done with his inquisition.

“Why so scared, Kaz? What do you think I would find?” Jesper inquired further, his curiosity now mingled with suspicion.

“Saints, is this an interrogation or something?” Kaz replied, exasperation clear in his voice.

“Yes, it is,” Jesper confirmed without missing a beat.

Kaz flipped him off, taking his cup and seating himself on the couch. He turned on the TV to the news, hoping to distract himself and escape Jesper's relentless questioning.

“Also, care to explain why you're watching a weird horse show on Netflix?” Jesper asked, clearly not ready to drop the subject.

Kaz cursed under his breath. He had left y/n his password to force her to watch that show he liked, and she had kept using it. “It helps me sleep,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, though his mind was still racing.

Jesper snorted. “You know what?” he said, “I prefer to believe that you're telling the truth than to accept that you're hanging out with a 13-year-old girl.”

“That's exactly what I'm doing,” Kaz agreed, hoping to end the conversation. He focused on the TV, but his mind kept drifting back to the morning’s events. y/n’s roommates’ words replayed in his head, making him feel more conflicted than ever. They had implied that y/n was emotionally entangled with her clients and enjoyed her work far beyond professionalism, which only deepened his embarrassment about his own lack of experience. It also made him uncomfortable about being one of her clients, someone she touched and kissed with a supposed professional detachment that now seemed questionable.

He glanced at Jesper, who was still eyeing him with suspicion, and wished, not for the first time, that life could be simpler. He leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes briefly, trying to push away the morning's revelations and the complex web of lies he was building.

***

That night, Kaz found himself back in his own bed. He had missed the familiar comfort of his room during the nights he spent at y/n's place, a necessity since she insisted on not working outside of her house. The sense of solitude in his apartment was a stark contrast to the bustling energy and warmth of her home.

As he lay there, trying to settle in, his phone buzzed, breaking the silence. 

‘ARE YOU WATCHING THE EPISODE?’

A smile tugged at his lips. y/n's enthusiasm for the show had been contagious from the start. He quickly typed back:

‘yes’

Almost immediately, another message came through.

‘WHAT MINUTE?’

‘27:36’

A few seconds later, her triumphant response lit up his screen.

‘I WAS FUCKING RIGHT’

Kaz chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. She had been predicting plot twists with relentless confidence, and now her theory had proven true. He opened his banking app and sent her 50 kruge with the label ‘Brilliant intuition.’

A moment later, her reply appeared, simple yet gratifying.

‘thank you:)’

He found himself smiling at the brief exchange, a warm feeling spreading through him. Despite the complicated feelings and the guilt from the morning's revelations, moments like this brought a sense of normalcy and comfort. y/n’s lively spirit and her unabashed excitement were a refreshing contrast to the more reserved and distant relationship he had with Inej.

As he set his phone down, Kaz reflected on the unexpected turn his life had taken. The simple pleasure of texting about a TV show, the playful reward of sending money for a correct prediction, and the comfort of knowing someone else was on the same wavelength—it was all so different from what he had known before. The guilt he felt for the ease and comfort he found with y/n gnawed at him, yet he couldn't deny the connection they shared, even if it was unconventional and complicated.

Kaz stared at the ceiling, the shadows from the streetlights dancing across it. He knew he needed to figure out what he truly wanted and where his heart lay. But for tonight, he allowed himself the small joy of y/n's excitement and the simple contentment of being back in his own bed, even if it was laced with confusion and guilt.

His thoughts wandered to y/n's laughter, her sharp wit, and the way she could make him forget his troubles, if only for a moment. The dichotomy between the life he had with Inej and the one he was beginning to share with y/n was stark and perplexing. As he drifted off to sleep, Kaz couldn't help but wonder how long he could continue walking this precarious line between two worlds, and what it would ultimately cost him.

***

The next night, Kaz and Jesper were at the Crow Club before the party started, both already drinking. Anika approached them, clipboard in hand. "Kaz, I saw you booked table 15. Did you get confirmation?"

Kaz sighed. Did she really have to ask him in front of Jesper? He could feel Jesper's eyebrows practically hitting his hairline.

"Yes, it's confirmed. They're four," he said dryly.

Anika nodded, jotting it down on her tablet before walking away.

"I'm not even going to ask," sighed Jesper.

"Great," Kaz commented tersely.

Hours later, Kaz spotted y/n and her friends making their way across the place toward the VIP area. He watched as guys swarmed around them like vultures. Distracted by a few people needing his attention, Kaz lost sight of them for a moment. When he looked back, his heart skipped a beat—Jesper was talking to the girls. Panic surged through him as Jesper leaned to speak into y/n's ear. They both turned their heads toward Kaz, with Jesper signaling where to look.

The three of them locked eyes, and Jesper and y/n waved at him. Kaz gripped the parapet until his hands hurt, watching them make their way toward him. His brain struggled to process that y/n was right in front of him, next to Jesper.

"Hi," she said, "finally, I get to see you in person. I wanted to thank you for the table last time and for actually replying to my DM to book another one."

"It's fine. Just write to Anika next time. It's not my job to book tables," he said coldly.

"Yeah, sorry," she looked down, nodding. Kaz marveled at how good of an actress she was.

"Kaz, rude," Jesper scolded, circling her with an arm and guiding her toward the bar to get her a drink. Kaz watched them dance for a while before she went back to her friends. He saw her typing on her phone and felt his own buzz in his pocket.

‘Cute, can I get his number?’

‘No’

He saw her laugh and slide her phone into her purse. Kaz knew he couldn't spend all night watching y/n, so he mingled with other people. At a certain point, Inej started blowing up his phone, forcing him to step outside to call her back. She was venting about something, barely giving him time to interject, but it was fine. Everyone needed to talk sometimes.

Outside, the night was quiet, late enough that there wasn't a queue anymore. Kaz kept listening to his girlfriend’s warm voice in his ear, as she told him about her day, the people she met, and what she ate. A weird noise distracted him, pulling the phone away from his ear.

It was unmistakable—he'd heard it for months coming from a closed door, he'd felt it inside his mouth. y/n’s soft moans echoed in the deserted alley. Kaz looked around but didn't spot her. He really hoped she wasn't having sex with Jesper, but the grunts he heard along with her moans didn’t sound like his voice.

"Kaz? Kaz, are you listening to me?" Inej’s voice brought him back to reality, and he replied quickly. But Kaz couldn't stop thinking about what was happening near him. He wondered what it would be like to feel such passion that you couldn't even wait to take a taxi and reach home—the raw need to consume each other in a dirty alley. He hated how his body reacted to her noises, and he had to go back inside, away from her.

"Inej, sorry, I have to go. Problems in the club."

"Oh, don't worry, Kaz. Goodnight," she said, always so understanding it made him feel worse.

Kaz hung up and took a deep breath, pushing the door open to head back inside. The muffled sounds of the party grew louder, drowning out the noise from the alley. He needed to focus on the present, on the business, and on anything other than y/n’s moans lingering in his mind.

***

The next sessions were rather peaceful. Kaz couldn’t bring up the fact that he heard her with someone in that alley. Every time he thought about it, he was sure he became a few shades redder.

***

One evening, he was at dinner with Jesper and some other associates, essentially a business meeting. An incoming call from an unknown number interrupted him. Fearing that something had happened to Inej, Kaz quickly answered. “Kaz? It’s me.” y/n sounded worried.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

“No, ehm, look, it’s embarrassing. Can you bail me out of jail?”

Kaz’s eyes widened. “You’ve been arrested?” He saw Jesper’s face twist with curiosity and cursed himself for saying that out loud. He quickly moved away from the table. “y/n, what happened?”

She sighed, “I’m a prostitute, Kaz. Can you come? I’m so sorry, but I didn’t know who else to call.” Kaz checked the time; he could pick her up and be back before dessert.

“Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Kaz avoided returning to the table and went straight for his car. He exchanged a few words with the policeman, paid the bail, and they let her out. y/n was still wearing very little clothing, and without thinking, he offered her his jacket.

“Thanks,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked once they were in the car.

“Apparently, I was a little too, ehm, vocal, and the neighbors thought I was being murdered, so they called the police. I had a lot of cash around, so there was no point in trying to tell them he was my boyfriend or some bullshit.” Her roommate's words echoed in his mind, ‘Wait until he discovers that you’re a fucking animal in bed.’

Kaz shook his head. “I’ll pay you back. I know that for you it wasn’t a lot of money, but I’ll—”

“Nonsense, don’t worry.” He placed a hand on her thigh, eyes focused on the road. Her leg was bare, and he was too focused on how smooth and tender her skin felt to think about the waters of the harbor. 

“Kaz, stop, you’re turning me on,” she laughed, her words contrasting with the way she leaned into the contact.

He snorted, a bit embarrassed. “Sorry,” he muttered, raising his hand, but she put it back in place.

“Just, don’t squeeze me,” she murmured.

The rest of the drive was quiet, both lost in their thoughts. Every time he changed gear, his hand would find its way back to her thigh. The contact was grounding him in a way he couldn’t explain, his mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that he felt weirdly peaceful.

Kaz stopped outside her apartment. “Thank you, Kaz. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Sorry for interrupting your evening.”

He shrugged. “I was bored anyway.” He tried to stop himself, but his gaze drifted to her lips.

“Yeah, great kissing moment,” she said in a low voice, tilting her head. “Not with me, though,” she reminded him, opening the car door. Kaz felt a wave of relief at the boundary she set. He was sure that if she had lingered a moment longer, he would have closed the distance between them.

Kaz slowly made his way back to the restaurant. As soon as he took his seat, Jesper sent him a text from across the table. It was a cherry emoji. Kaz rolled his eyes, grateful that Jesper hadn’t noticed the ever-present cherry scent during that night at the Crow Club when he talked to y/n.

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

more notes: if you noticed her roommates calling her dirty hands I'll marry you, but if you also caught the reference to Free Rein and Freddy Carter I'll have your children too <3

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

This just fits the chapter so much LMFAOO

Chapter 6: The Shattered Crew 

A/N: 

Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (Here).

Sanji X Reader, OP X Reader, Sanji x Y/N

Y/N POV… 

Flying through the air, you feel the wind whip against your face, a sensation of soaring at a breakneck speed. “Am I dead?” you think, your mind struggling to grasp the surreal experience. Slowly, you open one eye, squinting through the haze to see the clouds above and the sea far below. Pain radiates through your body, each jolt reminding you of the injuries you've sustained.

“Why am I floating?” you wonder, the realization of what’s happened crashing down on you. “Kuma, my friends disappearing… Sanji’s kiss!” The memory of Sanji’s desperate, passionate kiss floods back, and a pang of rage hits you.Your mad at him because he just kissed you and launched you to Luffy. "Did he really just do that?!"

Your thoughts are abruptly cut off as you crash-land onto an island. The impact is jarring, sending shockwaves of pain through your already battered body. The world spins and blurs as you lie there, succumbing to the exhaustion that finally overtakes you.

As you fade in and out of consciousness, you catch glimpses of people huddling over you. A hand gently touches your face, and you hear a muffled, urgent voice. “Take her to the village and quickly! Her injuries are far too much.”

Your vision darkens, and the last thing you feel is the gentle but firm touch of the strangers as they lift you. The world fades to black once more, and you succumb to the darkness, your mind haunted by the echoes of those you’ve lost. 

You wake up with a groan as the bright light hits your sensitive eyes. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the brightness. As your vision clears, you realize you’re in a hospital room. The sterile white walls and the soft beeping of medical equipment are unfamiliar.

You attempt to sit up, but a sharp pain shoots through your body, causing you to cry out in agony. Almost immediately, a doctor and a male nurse rush into the room. The doctor’s face shows a mix of relief and concern, while the nurse has a reassuring smile.

“Good! You’re awake!” the doctor says, his voice warm but filled with urgency. “You were on the brink of death if it weren’t for our soldiers bringing you here!”

The nurse steps closer, adjusting your IV and checking your vitals. “You gave us quite a scare. We’re glad you’re stable now.”

Groaning, you try to focus on them, your mind still foggy from the recent events. “How long was I out for?” you ask, wincing as you move.

The doctor glances at the nurse before answering, “About a day.”

Your eyes bulge in shock. “A day?! I have to go!” You try to scramble off the bed, but the pain and weakness make your movements awkward and unsteady. “I need to get back to Sabaody! If you have a boat, I need to leave before the third day! All my friends will be waiting!”

The doctor moves to steady you, his expression turning serious. “I understand your urgency, but unfortunately, you’ll need to speak with the king of the island. He’s the one who grants permission for ships to leave. And he’s known to be the toughest fighter here.”

Your desperation is evident as you look up at him. “The king? How can I talk to him? I need to go now!” I went to reach my vivre card that was laying on the table next to you.  

The nurse steps forward, his expression sympathetic. “The king is a formidable warrior and a crucial figure here. It’s not easy to see him, and he’s known for being very strict about who he allows to leave. But if you want to get back to your friends, it’s the only way.”

The doctor nods in agreement. “We’ll arrange for you to meet with him as soon as possible. For now, focus on resting and recovering. Your health is the priority.”

You collapse back onto the bed, frustration and anxiety written all over your face. “Please, do everything you can to help me. I can’t afford to lose any more time.”

The nurse places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll do our best. Rest for now, and we’ll make sure you’re seen by the king as soon as possible.”

As the doctor and nurse leave the room to make the necessary arrangements, you lie back, your mind racing with worry for your friends and the time slipping away.

Sanji's POV…

"My dearest Nami, my sweet Robin, my beautiful Y/N... It's been a while. How are you three doing? As for me, I’m..." A few hours before...

I’m struggling to open my eyes. The smell of the ocean lingers in the air, and I groan as I manage to lift my head slightly. Above me, a heart-shaped rainbow stretches across the sky. My body feels like it’s on fire, every muscle aching, as if I’ve been through a war.

Realization hits me after a few minutes. Kuma… My crew disappearing… And then… Y/N…

My eyes bug out of their sockets as I remember. "Y/N!" I shout, trying to leap up, but pain betrays my body, forcing me to stay on the sand. I’m exhausted, my body drifting in and out of consciousness. "Where the hell am I?" I mutter weakly.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" A gentle voice reaches me, but it’s muffled. "Mister, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

I can’t make out what she looks like, my vision blurring as exhaustion takes over. I finally let it win, darkness swallowing me whole.

Some time later...

I wake up again, but this time, I’m resting in the lap of the same lady. She’s gently wiping the dirt and debris from my face with a handkerchief. Her scent is sweet, soothing, and for a moment, I’m lost in it. "Am I… in the lap of a beautiful woman?" I wonder aloud, my thoughts hazy. "Is it… Nami? Maybe Robin? Or perhaps Y/N?" My heart races at the thought, but no… it can’t be.

Despite my fatigue, I reach up, grinning like a fool, and grab her arm. “No way, I want to stay here forever.”

She freezes under my touch, and then, without a word, she gets up and runs away.

“Hey, wait a minute, come back!” I call after her, but she’s gone. I blink, sitting up. “I guess it wasn’t a dream…” I mutter, noticing the handkerchief she left behind. Flipping it over, I see the name ‘Elizabeth’ embroidered on it.

With a groan, I get up slowly, my body still weak, and start walking. "I still don’t have a damn clue where I’m at." I glance around, the scenery unfamiliar. "Maybe I died and gone to heaven?" I say, half-jokingly, though part of me wonders if it’s true.

Then, a sudden thought hits me. “I sense romance in the air,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head almost immediately. "No, no, I can’t think of such things like that." I take out my vivre card and look at it, the reminder of what’s truly important. "Nami, Robin, and Y/N are waiting for me."

I sigh, a heartfelt, conflicted sigh, clutching the handkerchief to my chest. "But the least I can do is thank her for her kindness!" I declare, determination sparking in my tired body. After all, a gentleman must always be courteous to a lady.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I started running in the direction the woman—Elizabeth—had gone. My heart pangs with guilt as I imagine the looks on Nami, Robin, and Y/N’s faces. “Nami, Robin, Y/N… please forgive me for being unfaithful,” I whisper under my breath, but I keep running, hoping to find Elizabeth and express my gratitude. 

Y/N POV: 

You continue to stare at the vivre card Shakky handed you, watching the small piece of paper begin to slowly move. With a sigh, you gaze out the window from your bed, wondering where everyone else landed and hoping they were all safe. "I wonder what the crew is doing," you mutter, the words heavy with longing.

Finally, you manage to stand and walk slowly to the mirror. The reflection that meets you is almost unrecognizable—a shell of the person you once were. Your hair is disheveled, your body wrapped in bandages, and your right thigh, where the bandage is beginning to unravel, reveals a small scar. A constant reminder of what happened that day.

You shake your head, trying to push the dark thoughts away. "No," you whisper to yourself. "Now is not the time to mope. I have to keep going." Just as you're about to put on your clothes, the door opens, and the male nurse enters. A faint blush creeps across his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you. Realizing your predicament, you quickly grab the sheets from the bed and wrap them around yourself, securing your body.

The nurse stumbles over his words, trying to explain, "Your clothes were too damaged to wear, so I brought some traditional wear for you." You look at the clothes, puzzled, given that this is a male-only island. The shirt looks more like a dress but fits you nicely. As you start to speak, the nurse cuts you off, "They belong to my sister, actually. We weren't always an all-male island... but for some reason, all the women suddenly disappeared."

You step forward, wrapping your arms around the nurse, feeling the hesitation in his body before he slowly relaxes and returns the embrace. His warmth offers a small comfort in the midst of all the chaos you've endured.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "For everything. I can't imagine what it's like to lose so many people, especially your sister... But I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to help, starting with this challenge."

The nurse holds you a little tighter before letting go, a mixture of relief and sadness in his eyes. "You remind me of her," he says quietly. "Strong, determined... She would have liked you."

Before you can respond, the male doctor enters the room, his expression serious but not unkind. "The King has an opening tonight," he informs you, his gaze flicking briefly to the nurse before returning to you. "It’s rare for someone to get a chance to face him so soon, but you’ll need all your strength. He's known to be the toughest fighter on the island."

You nod, determination hardening your resolve. "Okay," you say, glancing between the doctor and the nurse. "Let’s go. I need to get back to my crew, and if facing the King is the way to do it, then I’m ready."

The nurse gives you a small, encouraging smile. "We’ll be with you every step of the way," he says, his voice full of quiet strength. "Just... be careful. The King isn’t someone to take lightly."

You offer him a reassuring smile, despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. "I’ll be careful," you promise, "but I won’t back down. My friends are waiting for me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get back to them."

With that, you gather your blades, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Sanji POV… 

After a few minutes, I arrived at a quaint home that matched the style of Elizabeth's handkerchief. Knocking on the door, I made my presence known. "Lady Elizabeth, it's me, Sanji," I called out. "I came here to return your handkerchief."

I heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking on the floor as someone approached from the other side. The door creaked open, and just as I flashed my best smile, she yanked the handkerchief out of my hand and retreated back inside.

"Hey, you never let me say thanks!" I called after her, trying to keep my cool. "Don’t rush, Sanji. She’s probably a shy and innocent girl. Be cool, have a little patience." I continued to talk to her behind the closed door, trying to engage her in conversation.

Elizabeth, from the other end, began asking me a series of questions, which I eagerly answered. She seemed particularly curious about dresses. I paused for a moment, pondering her interest, and then it hit me—she must be trying to make a love connection. The thought brought a grin to my face.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Elizabeth stood there, inviting me inside. Stepping into her home, I started to flirt, my charm in full swing. Her back was turned to me, and I imagined her blushing from my words. But then, she abruptly turned around and ran towards me.

"Oh, Elizabeth! Leap into my arms, love struck—" I began, but before I could finish, she shoved an outfit into my arms, catching me completely off guard. The force of it sent me sprawling flat on my back.

Confused, I looked up as Elizabeth leaned over me, a mischievous grin on her face. "This outfit would look amazing on you," she declared.

I blinked, my mind racing to make sense of what was happening. Then, it dawned on me—this wasn't the romantic encounter I had imagined. "Wait a minute… What’s going on here?"

Elizabeth straightened up, her grin widening. "Welcome to Kamabakka Kingdom," she said, her tone cheerful but with an edge that sent chills down my spine.

Panic gripped me as the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. This wasn't just any island—this was that island. 

My eyes widened, and without another word, I scrambled to my feet and bolted for the door. "My dearest Nami, my sweet Robin, my beautiful Y/N... It's been a while. How are you three doing? As for me, I’m—well, how do I put this..."

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my heart pounding in my chest as the gravity of my situation sank in. I have to get out of here… and fast!

Y/N POV…

You begin to exit the hospital quarters, the sunlight filtering through the leaves as you stretch your arms out, feeling the pull of your muscles. It’s a small comfort after being bedridden for so long. Before heading to the King's quarters, you glance back at the nurse. "Is there an isolated area where I can practice with my blade before meeting the King?"

The nurse nods and leads you to a secluded part of the island. The clearing is quiet, with only the rustle of leaves and the distant sound of waves. Perfect. You unsheathe your blade, feeling its familiar weight in your hand.

Taking a deep breath, you step into the clearing and begin to move, launching blow after blow with precision and speed. Your blade slices through the air, cutting trees left and right with swift, effortless movements. The sound of wood splintering echoes around you as you continue to push yourself, testing your limits.

"Still got it," you mutter with a smirk, satisfied with your performance.

Both the male doctor and nurse stand still, their eyes wide in admiration. Despite your injuries, you wield your blade with deadly precision. Maybe, just maybe, this will be enough to defeat the King.

You sheath your blade with a confident flourish and turn to the medics. Grinning, you tell them, "Now, shall we?" They nod, preparing to lead the way, but before you can take a step, you hear a distant coo.

You pause, recognizing the sound. "A news coo?" you wonder aloud. Curiosity piqued, you reach out and grab the newspaper it drops. Unfolding it, your eyes scan the headlines, and suddenly, your heart stops.

"Ace… Ace has died at Marineford. And Luffy… Luffy was there trying to rescue him."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Luffy!" you yell, your voice trembling with shock.

The medics exchange worried glances. "Luffy? What happened?" the nurse asks, his voice tinged with concern.

You can barely speak, your mind racing with the implications of what you’ve just read. Shaking, you release the paper, letting it flutter to the ground. "No… This can’t be happening."

The urgency of the situation hits you like a tidal wave. There’s no time to waste. You need to get to Luffy, to find out if he’s safe. Your heart pounds in your chest as you make a decision. "I need to get a ship. Now."

The doctor steps forward, a determined look on his face. "We'll help you, but you have to stay focused. If you want to defeat the King, you can't let your emotions get the better of you."

You nod, trying to steady your breathing. "I understand… but Luffy is my captain, my friend. I have to know he's okay."

The nurse, his expression softening, places a hand on your shoulder. "We’ll get you to the King, and once you’re finished, we’ll help you find a way off this island."

You take a deep breath, pushing down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Thank you," you say, your voice resolute. "Let’s go."

As you follow the medics towards the King's quarters, your thoughts are consumed by the news of Ace and Luffy. Your grip tightens around your blade. Luffy… just hold on. I’ll find you. I promise.

Kings Quarters…

You arrive at the King’s quarters, taking in the sight of men being carried out, each one more battered than the last. You let out a low whistle, then turn to the nurse. "You weren’t kidding... actually, I never got your names?"

The nurse and doctor exchange glances before the nurse smiles and says, "I’m Sam," and the doctor adds, "And I’m John."

A smile crosses your face as you nod, revealing your own name. Their eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, they seem stunned. You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks, but before you can say more, you hear the booming voice of the King.

"Who dares challenge me next?" he bellows.

You glance at Sam and whisper, "He’s so young."

Sam nods, explaining, "He took the throne at 20 after his father passed.Hes been King for about 8 years now"

The King's eyes fall on you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "A woman? There haven’t been any women on this island for ages. You think you can challenge me?"

Without a word, you draw your blade and execute a swift, precise movement. The air around you crackles as the force of your strike splits a nearby stone pillar in two. The room falls silent, and the King’s smirk fades, replaced with a look of intrigue. 

You square your shoulders, meeting his gaze. "You’ll find that I’m more than capable, Your Majesty. I’m here for a ship, and I intend to earn it.”

Amused, the King rises from his throne, descending the steps to face you directly. "Impressive," he says, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "Let’s see if you can back up that skill in battle." 

The fight begins with a tense silence as the King, without drawing any weapons, assumes a combat stance. You tighten your grip on your blade, determined to give everything you have.

As you launch the first strike, the King effortlessly dodges, his movements swift and precise. He counters with a punch aimed straight at your midsection. The force of the blow is overwhelming, knocking the wind out of you as you cough up a bit of blood.

From the sidelines, Sam watches in horror. "John, I’m worried," he whispers, his voice shaking. "She’s strong, but the King… he’s something else."

You grit your teeth, pushing through the pain, and manage to land a strike on the King's cheek. But before you can feel any sense of victory, he slams his fist into the ground, splitting the room into two. Shocked, you mutter, "How did he do that?"

The King doesn’t give you time to recover. He comes at you with a relentless barrage of blows, each one heavier than the last. You struggle to keep up, your body growing weaker with each impact. Finally, a powerful punch sends you crashing to the ground, and your vision starts to blur. The sound of cheering male voices fills the room as you fade in and out of consciousness.

Just as Sam moves to help you, the King notices and orders his men to seize him. "Throw him in the pit!" the King commands, his voice cold and merciless.

Sam struggles against the soldiers, fear evident in his eyes. As they drag him toward the pit, you summon the last of your strength, forcing yourself to stand. The world spins around you, but you refuse to let Sam suffer. With a surge of adrenaline, you yell, "Sam, duck!" and with one swift movement, you strike down each soldier, sending them plummeting into the pit instead.

Sam looks up at you, his expression a mix of confusion and gratitude. "Why did you help me?" he asks, his voice trembling.

You sheathe your blade and offer him a faint smile. "You helped me when I was injured. We’re friends now."

With that, you and Sam help each other up and make your way out of the chamber, John quickly joining your side. As you exit, you can feel the King’s gaze on you. He watches the entire scene with a smirk, turning to his men. "Who is she?" he asks, his tone laced with curiosity. "And what was she doing on this island?"

>

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OMG!!! Looks like things are about to be good! For this chapter, I wanted to pace it the same way as the anime had it. Sanji heading to Kamabakka Kingdom always makes me laugh so much! Next Chapter will be funny. Sanji is going to meet with Ivankov, and their interaction will be funny. You also are getting another news coo paper which will then reveal the fate of the strawhats crew. Thank you guys for following, sharing, reblogging, and liking my Story! I can't wait for y'all to read what's next! As always the chapters are all linked. See you Tomorrow!

[juniperss]

Could you write something with Joe Liebgott where maybe they are friends but he’s got a crush on the reader but refuses to acknowledge it so he tries to distance himself from her. Then maybe one night something goes wrong and she gets hurt and it causes him to admit to his feelings. Some big angst and fluff :)

this is such a cute idea! Since I'm only taking headcanon suggestions though, I'm gonna answer in that format, <3 Joe Liebgott you can run from your feelings but you cannot hide them! I wrote these with gender neutral pronouns, i hope that's alright!

Honestly the fact that he has a crush on a friend is one of the last things he feels he needs in his life during the war. It's just another series of emotions that he has to deal with now and he can't believe that he's had to go and get a crush on you, of all people. Because honestly, in his mind, there are only two ways this is gonna pan out: you're gonna tell him "aw thanks, Joe that's really sweet but I don't feel the same" or you're gonna like him too and he's gonna risk losing you in combat. No thank you, either way!

Now....is that entirely rational or true? Nope. But he doesn't want to admit that he has feelings for you and lying to himself about the outcome is certainly a way to help suppress them.

Really though he's worried that admitting a crush on his best friend is going to mean losing you, one way or another and he doesn't think he can live with that. Not now, not after everything that's happened.

Him denying his feelings results in trying to put distance between the two of you. Which is really obvious since being friends with him meant that you two were usually joined at hip. And it's sudden too, he doesn't just gradually or subtly introduce spending less time with you. Because as soon as he's hit with the realization that "OH shit, I love them", he starts the distancing. Better to nip it in the bud now.

And it hurts. You're not sure what you did to upset him and cause him to ask for a different patrol partner or for him to turn around and walk away when you approach. And if you try to bring it up, he gives some bullshit about "I'm not acting any different, what are you talking about". I can also see him starting to be a bit mean towards in an attempt to get you to stop asking him about it. Throwing rocks at the dog kind of situation.

This goes on for a few weeks and one day while he's making some rounds he hears about an ambush on the patrol just a little bit ago. The patrol that he knows you were on because he asked Muck to switch with him earlier in the day.

There's some serious injuries he hears and no one around seems to have the same answer about what happened to you. There's so much panic building up in him and a heavy sense of dread and guilt. He's booking it towards Doc Roe's station to find you.

Literally pushing past people trying to track you down and when he finds you sitting on the ground with a bandage around your upper arm he wants to throw up. So many apologies pouring out of his mouth that they jumble up and don't even make sense, but you can pick out the words "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" multiple times.

You think you can see tears in his eyes too but you don't have time to investigate because he's hugging you and you're wrapping your arms around him too. You missed your friend and you missed how good it felt to hear him speaking to you with kindness.

He explains his behavior over the last week or two as he helps you back to camp. Saying it out loud has him feeling really dumb because he can't believe he thought that would work when you're looking at him with such big eyes and a frown. He just feels like an ass.

When he finally admits that it was all because he has feelings for you, he has to look down at him feet. He can't take saying it directly to you. It's odd seeing Joe Liebgott shy and self conscious about something. He only looks at you once you've taken his hand in yours and squeezed it gently.

Ends with a tender kiss, but is quickly followed up with promises to never ignore you again. He'll spend as much time as he needs to get you to forgive him despite your acceptance of his apology.

[satansapostle6]

X

Josh Futturman has always had a crush on his beautiful coworker, the sharp, sexy scientist he thought he could only dream of talking to.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Smut. Oral(M receiving.) Praise kink. Semi public. Overstimulation. Slight dacryphilia.

Part Eight

Part Nine: A Family Affair

Josh and Brynne quietly left his room for dinner after what they had been doing. Josh Futturman was horrified as he realized his Uncle Barry had been waiting to use the upstairs bathroom after the two of them, and was now just standing in the hallway, bottle still in hand, signaling to them that he had planned to take it into the bathroom with him.

“Should’ve been me,” Barry said through a belch as Josh made a face, quickly hurrying Brynne downstairs with the rest of the guests.

Once they came down the stairs, Josh saw his mom, about to look for his dad in the kitchen.

“Mom,” Josh said finally, as Brynne stood behind him.

She didn’t seem upset at all.

“What is it, honey?”

“Mom, I’m really sorry about the way I talked to you earlier,” he apologized sadly, “That was so mean, and I shouldn’t have said anything. You were trying to help, and I was just being an asshole.”

“Oh, Joshy, you know I forgive you,” his mother sighed, wrapping him up in a hug, “I know you didn’t mean it. Besides. I know you feel kind of frustrated about still living at home, you were bound to tell your parents to fuck off at some point,” she gave his cheek a playful pinch.

“Still, Mom. I’d never let anyone talk to you like that. Especially not me,” he said guiltily.

“Oh… My sweet little Joshy,” Diane beamed. “We’re family; I forgive you.”

“I love you, Mom,” he told her.

“You’re so sweet, Joshy. I love you, too,” she smiled, turning to Brynne. “Why don’t you two have a seat with everyone else? Dinner will be ready in a minute.”

“Okay,” Josh agreed.

He took the empty seat next to where his mother would be sitting, as Brynne sat down with him.

“Why don’t you sit next to me?” Barry suggested with a grin, sitting in the empty seat next to her.

Brynne just looked at Josh, who seemed less than comfortable with this arrangement.

“Uncle Barry…” he warned, just as his father entered the room.

“Oh, Josh, Brynne, there you are,” Gabe nodded. “You want some appetizers? It’s Brie, and cranberry.”

“Yes, please,” Brynne said eagerly, taking one off of the plate he held out to them. “That sounds delicious.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Josh nodded.

“Hope you washed your hands first,” Barry Futturman cut in, already starting to once again create a weird energy in the room.

Josh looked at him in disbelief, trying his hardest to ignore the inappropriate comment as he ate with everyone else. Luckily, neither of his parents seemed to pick up on what his uncle had meant by that. As dinner continued, Brynne and Josh both did their best to keep the conversation running as smoothly as possible. But inevitably, there were a few considerable obstacles.

“You know, Brynne, Julius works for a company that does DNA testing,” Diane informed her with a smile.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Brynne smiled, “I think it’s great that people can really expand their knowledge of their ancestry these days.”

“Right?” Melinda agreed. “We found out about so many cousins we had no idea we even had!”

As the dinner carried on, slowly becoming more boring, Josh looked to his left at Brynne, pleasantly surprised to see that she’d been looking at him, and only him, the entire time. She smiled softly, almost uncharacteristically, and Josh was putty in her hands. He smiled back, smitten with her.

He chuckled nervously as he felt her fingers creeping into his hand, gradually taking it in hers. The way he held her hand under the table in front of his entire family felt strangely innocent, and wholesome. It was a perfect way to spend his Christmas Eve.

It must’ve been another twenty minutes of the two of them enjoying each other’s company in silence before he realized she was still holding his hand. Josh noticed that Brynne grimaced as Barry tried to scoot his chair even closer to hers, looking her up and down as he did.

“Excuse me, I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Brynne stood suddenly, startling Josh a bit.

Everyone else just smiled in response to her as she left the table. Josh sat there for a moment, conflicted. He knew his Uncle Barry had made her feel beyond uncomfortable, but he didn’t know whether she wanted space or comfort. Deciding he wanted to at least be chivalrous, Josh got up to follow her.

He knocked softly on the bathroom door, the knuckles of his middle and index finger making a quiet sound. Brynne heard the knock, and at first assumed it was a woman knocking.

“Hey, Brynne? You okay in there?” Josh asked, cursing himself as he hoped she wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

All of a sudden, the door opened, and he saw her standing there, not looking upset at all. He couldn’t place the way she was looking at him.

“Come in,” she told him.

“Uh, okay,” he stammered, entering the small bathroom as she closed the door. “So, what’s up? Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she promised. “I just never got to thank you for… earlier.”

“Oh,” he realized, feeling stupid. “Uh, yeah… any time.”

While he wasn’t sure that was the most appropriate response, he knew he at least meant it wholeheartedly.

“You want me to return the favor?”

“Sorry, what?” he asked, once again blown away.

Little did he know, tonight, that would become more than a figure of speech.

“I said…” she smirked, impatiently dropping to the floor. “You want me to return the favor?” she asked quietly, looking up at him with hungry wide eyed.

“Oh, fuck,” he laughed nervously, “That’s what you meant.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she clarified. “I just think you deserve a nice reward after the way you made me come.”

“No, no, I definitely want to,” Josh assured her. “I’d love that. So much.”

“Is this okay, then?” she asked, her hands gently sliding up his clothed thighs.

“Fuck yes,” he nodded, watching her intently.

Knowing the power she held, Brynne unbuttoned his pants with care, dropping them to the floor in front of her as she looked at his boxers.

“Batman,” she remarked, sounding pleased.

Josh frantically tried to find an explanation. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else would be seeing them—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” she purred, still staring up at him. “Just relax for me, baby.”

He let out an involuntary whine as her hand softly grabbed at his growing bulge.

“My goodness, you’re this hard already?”

“Yeah,” he gulped, “You’re just so beautiful, and you’re looking at me like that—”

“I’m gonna take such good care of you,” Brynne cooed, “Okay?”

“Okay,” he whimpered, choking on a lump in his throat.

Josh grabbed onto the towel rack in a panic, feeling all the blood in his body rushing to one place.

“I’m gonna take these off, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded, loving the way she spoke to him.

She slid his boxers down, allowing his growing erection to spring free.

“Aw, so pretty, baby,” she gushed.

“Fuck, thank you!” Josh sighed happily, throwing his head back as she began to wrap her hand around it.

He was throbbing for her already, and he was still feeling somewhat embarrassed and shy.

“Hmm. Hold on,” she said as she rose to her feet. “You wanna help me out?”

“How?” he asked automatically.

She smiled, cupping his face with her right hand.

“You wanna help me get my fingers wet?”

“Mhm,” he begged, bobbing his head up and down.

“Okay. Open?”

He obliged, opening his mouth softly as he looked to her for instruction. He was like a doll, willing to be put in any position she desired. She slid her middle and index fingers into his mouth, watching with delight as he lightly cupped his hand around her wrist, bobbing his head up and down as he took her fingers in his mouth.

“Is this good?”

“Perfect, sweetheart,” she encouraged affectionately.

He finished thoroughly wetting her fingers, looking at her desperately as she popped her thumb into his mouth, admiring him as he suckled on her thumb. It drove her crazy how needy and excitable he was.

“Aw, look at that. Who’s a dumb little bunny?”

“I’m a dumb little bunny!” he blurted out, then realizing how desperate he sounded.

She sank to her knees again as he watched her in suspense, hanging onto her every word.

“Aw, lookit. Leaking already?” she asked calmly. “Look at you, baby, you’re dripping. What a messy boy.”

“I’m sorry,” Josh whined impatiently.

“Don’t be sorry… Here. Lemme taste you…”

He gasped out loud as she licked a circle around his pink tip, both impressed and horrified at the sounds she could pull from him. The way she was able to stimulate him was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Leaning against the bathroom wall, he threw his head back in surprise, seeing black spots on the ceiling as he tried not to let his knees buckle.

“F-Fuck,” he moaned.

“You’re delicious, baby,” Brynne looked up at him. “Oh… Your eyes watering?”

“Fuck!”

That was all he could say at the moment. Both of Josh’s hands were laid flat on the wall, as he tried to catch himself. She noticed that as he looked back down at her, his eyes were watering. He looked like a mess.

“Oh, you’re a mess, baby. Do you wanna stop?”

“No!” he blurted out. “No, keep going, please.”

“Okay. You’ll tell me if you need me to stop?”

“Yes,” he promised with a quick nod.

“Okay. Good boy.”

He nearly melted at her praise, holding on for dear life as she slowly took him into her mouth, hearing him whine helplessly as she swallowed his entire length.

“Fuck! Feels so good,” he moaned.

She bobbed her head up and down, starting to pick up the pace. He gasped loudly, his hand slowly smoothing over her hair for her as she sucked him off. He finally felt that it was okay to touch her, neatly moving her hair out of her face. He groaned as quietly as he could, trying to keep his volume down. It became increasingly hard, as did he.

Josh sobbed quietly as he bottomed out again and again, instinctively giving a light thrust, desperate for release. He couldn’t contain his excitement, and breathed out shakily as he felt his dick twitch inside her mouth. Giving up and allowing the tears to flow, he mumbled nonsense as she took him in her fist, going up and down faster and faster as she sucked on his tip.

“Please! I’m gonna come,” Josh whined. “I’m gonna come!”

He started to cry even more as he looked down at her, looking into her deep brown eyes.

“You’re so good to me, fuck,” he groaned. “I don’t know why you even like me… You’re a fucking goddess!”

He grabbed ahold of the towel rack as he felt himself trembling with indescribable pleasure. He quickly grabbed a small towel and shoved part of it into his mouth, muffling his whines and screams as best as he could. He’d never came like this before in his life.

Everything was a blur as he finally felt himself release into her mouth, looking down at her in shock as she allowed him to fill her mouth, still sucking on his tip as she wet his dick. He cried softly as he threw his head back, whispering curses as he finished.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered. “Feels so good…”

She swallowed, smiling up at him as he wiped his tears away, dropping down to his knees. Surprised by the sudden movement, she collected his head onto her lap, brushing his hair to the side as he sobbed onto her dress. He let out a few grateful choked, rubbing his face into her lap as she played with his hair.

“Shhhhh. You’re okay, baby,” she promised him. “You’re okay. Let it all out.”

He let out the last few sniffles as he threw his arms around her, his face between her soft breasts as he whimpered.

“Felt so good,” he mumbled.

“I know. Just relax,” she murmured as he stuck his face between her breasts, softly kissing each one in turn.

His hands pawed at her chest, gently squeezing each breast as he whined impatiently. He watched as she pulled at the straps of her dress, allowing him access as he sucked on each nipple for comfort. It went on for a short while as he soothed himself.

He sat up as Brynne took his face in her hands, softly wiping at the tears with her thumbs.

“You look so pretty when you cry,” she whispered.

“I look pretty?” he asked her.

“Mhm,” she nodded, kissing his lips as she let him lay his head back down on her bare chest. “My pretty boy.”

-

Part Ten

[yuesya]

There is a terrible silence that settles, following the Master’s declaration.

You shall faithfully obey your Lord and devotedly serve the Master of your soul, Decarabian!

The words almost seem to echo, among the restless winds that gradually pick up around them. Irritable and wild, sharp and stinging. There is a heavy pressure that coalesces and builds, a string pulled taut. The invisible tension that saturates the air before a storm breaks.

The young god –Decarabian– looks towards the Master expressionlessly.

A wide smile splits across the Master’s face, all teeth. “You’ve caused me quite enough trouble, little one. Now, kneel before me.”

There is authority imbued into that order, and the bird finds its knees slamming into the muddy ground even though the command is not directed towards it. A pained gasp escapes from its throat, not entirely of its own volition.

Its hands sink deep into the mud. The earth beneath its talons is a dark scarlet. Blood.

No no no no–

The Master revels in death and destruction. War forges strength, suffering tempers resilience; all dreams shall be achieved at the end of the road, when I ascend the Archon throne. The widespread ruin that’s wrought in the Master’s wake, according to the Master’s whims and desires… is something that already haunts the bird’s every waking moment, and every dream. An endless nightmare.

But if there is another god that becomes one of the Master’s thralls, one whose aspect is aligned with battle, then–!

Decarabian, kneel.

The Master’s irritation is compounded by impatience; it lances down through the bird’s spine, needle-sharp despite not being the target of the Master’s ire.

And yet–

Decarabian, the one that the command is targeted towards…

Does.

Not.

Kneel.

Instead, the white-haired god raises her blade, and proceeds to drive it through the Master’s chest.

There is a terrible scream. The Master is screaming. Black ichor splatters from the wound, and it burns upon the bird’s skin. Paralyzed and unable to move, there is nothing that the bird can do but tremble beneath the Master’s rage.

“How?!” The Master demands, furious and disbelieving in turn. Then, a choked-off cry of pain; the other god has twisted her blade, driving it deeper into the Master’s body.

“A spell of obedience, is it?” The adolescent god remarks, “How dull. It wouldn’t have made a difference even if it took properly; you’re far too weak to force me to submit to you. And…”

She yanks her blade out. The Master staggers, and crumples to the ground.

“Get up. I’m not done with you.” For the first time, there is emotion in the other god’s voice. A frigid, glacial anger. “How dare you attempt to taint the name of Decarabian like this.”

The Master spits out a mouthful of black blood, then throws back her head and laughs.

“Ah, I see it now… you’re not ‘Decarabian.’ To think that I would be fooled by a trick as simple as this…” the Master shakes her head, slowly rising to her feet. “I confess, I’ve underestimated you, youngling. But you… are underestimating me as well. I may not be a martially-inclined god, but I am a god nonetheless.”

The Master presses a hand to the gaping hole in their chest, adeptal energies coalescing to heal the grievous injury–

Nothing happens.

Black ichor continues to drip down from between the Master’s fingers.

“… What is this?” the Master hisses. “What is the meaning of this?”

The Master’s rage is a near-physical thing, and the bird is suffocated beneath the crushing weight that slams into it out of nowhere. But through that all-consuming anger, there is also a hint of fear.

The other god tilts her head. “Did you really think that I would let you walk away from this?”

“So that’s how it is…” A faint chuckle. Then, a laugh. With a jolt of terror, the bird realizes that there’s a note of madness to the Master’s voice, which cannot mean anything good. It’s– “But don’t think that you’ll be walking away from this, either. I shall teach you of the wrath of a dying god!”

The last words end in a shout, accompanied by the swell of divine power –more than the bird has ever seen the Master bring to bear before, and the force of the gathering energies is enough to burn the air and shake the ground underfoot.

Crazed laughter, accompanying an eruption of divine power–

The world tilts, sky becoming earth and earth becoming sea, and the surrounding waters rise up to eclipse the sun–

Silence. Blessed darkness.

…

…

…

… Am I… finally dead?

“Not yet.”

The bird’s eyes snap open.

Darkness. All around it, everything is pitch-dark. There is nothing that can be seen, as if the bird is floating in the very essence of the darkness itself–

“Pay attention,” the voice in front of him says. A girl. No, not a girl. White hair and blue eyes, divinity enfolded into a human form; this is Dec– … the god that the Master had been fighting. “And watch your step. It’s still dangerous here.”

What…?

A pale hand reaches out, pristine fingers closing over the bird’s own muddy, bloodstained ones with no trace of hesitation. It’s such an inexplicable, oddly gentle motion, and the bird experiences a brief moment of mind-numbing panic, completely at a loss as for how to respond to this.

What’s going on?

“Your god killed herself,” the white-haired girl tells the bird, tugging it along… somewhere. Woodenly, the bird moves to follow. Each step is accompanied by a new jolt of pain from its injuries, “I’m containing the Mistress of Dreams’ mess in my barrier so I can take care of it properly. Right now, we’re in… the rift between dreams and reality, I suppose. I’m taking you outside with the other survivors.”

“… You won’t kill me?”

“No. I can’t,” the god shakes her head. “Not right now, at least. It’s one of the conditions for raising a barrier like this, with precisely zero preparations beforehand and such a large range.”

The bird blinks, faintly confused. But it understands that the god does not intend to kill it, despite having fought its Master –resulting in the master’s death. As the victor, then, that… means she’s the new Master, right?

So then, “What are your orders, Master?”

“… I’m not your Master,” the Master –not Master?– tells the bird, much to its mounting confusion. “And I don’t have orders. Just go.”

“T-That’s–”

“You can wake up now.”

The bird’s eyes snap open.

… Sunlight. Bright, and blinding. There is warm sunlight shining down upon its skin, accompanied by a cool breeze. And around it, there is the soft, unmistakable murmur of startled human voices… and the bird realizes that the shores are filled with humans. 

Humans who all look confused and disoriented. Varying degrees of fearful, as well. There are also those who are openly weeping, kneeling down and bowing in the direction of–

A solid wall of darkness.

The bird’s head cranes back; up and up and up.

There is a dark dome, rising high up from the ground and stretching into the sky. It covers… quite a significant portion of the Master’s… the former Master’s territory. Is this… the ‘barrier’ that the white-haired god had mentioned? The barrier within which the catastrophic aftereffects of a god’s death were contained? … And the god had… evacuated everyone within it as well…?

…

“Well, well,” a lighthearted voice suddenly sounds jovially behind the bird. “Isn’t this an interesting –oh, no need to look so startled, little bird.”

Long blue hair tied up in a high ponytail, tanned skin the color of sand submerged beneath the waves. This is a god who’s grinning at it, who–

“Your mistress is dead, and yet you, the most powerful of her thralls live… how curious,” the man smiles sharply. Then, in a commanding voice that brooks no argument, “Tell me what happened inside there. Osial, the Lord of the Vortex, demands it.”