#but there is no way in hell he didn’t acknowledge somewhere deep inside of him that he's attracted to men

[pearlessance]

Beneath the Armor —part two

[part one]

summary: Joel figures out a way to win you over after your heated argument. Things slowly change, for the better. You carefully work at chipping away Joel's walls, not allowing yourself to leave him behind. It was easy falling for him.

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI. ANGST with a happy ending, grief, mention of child loss, daddy issues, age difference, slow burn, seduction, use of alcohol, and references to alcohol abuse, brat taming, smut, daddy kink, rough oral, face sitting, p in v, degradation, hair pulling, dom/sub undertones, creampie, begging, overstimulation

wc: 12.1k

note: part two as promised!! cowritten with @joelmillerssexyyounggirlfriend who's now on both tumblr and AO3! please make sure to go follow her for more delicious, mouth watering joel fics just like this one <3

Your junker, piece of shit car worked well enough to drive you a couple of hours out of town for the evening. You weren’t even sure where you were going, but you needed to be somewhere that wasn’t the suffocating town you’d been trapped in for years.

The sun was setting by the time you’d finally pulled over, stopping when your body took you to your unexpected destination. It was the state park your mom would take you to when you were just a child, probably around Sarah’s age. From where your car was parked, you could see the sun's bright rays moving down past the mountainous hills, saying goodbye to you.

It would’ve been a lot easier for you if your life had been simpler. A loving mom and dad who actually enjoyed being around each other. Instead, they’d both abandoned you, leaving you behind to make hard decisions for yourself. 

A couple of moments later, a pack of cigarettes was fished out from your glove compartment, and a sole smoke found its home between your trembling lips. You lit it, the fire from the lighter brightening your face against the dark contrast of the setting sky around you. With a deep, shaky inhale, you felt the back of your head hit against the car seat headrest. 

You couldn’t keep going like this. Being stuck in this town, living a repetitive life was slowly killing you. Your friends had left town; hell, even your mom had escaped. When would it be your turn? Would you stay until you became a shell of yourself, like Joel?

The ash of the cigarette in your hand followed the speed of the sunset, slowly burning, burning, burning, until finally, it was gone. All that was left was the darkness of the night and the cigarette butt in your hand. 

The smell of cigarette smoke still lingered in the car when you wake from an unexpected slumber a handful of hours later. You figured that the combination of watching the nightfall and the intoxication of the nicotine lulled you to sleep. When you started your car, you saw it was a quarter past midnight. Jesus.

You sighed, grateful that some park ranger hadn’t walked up to your parked car and seen you passed out with a fully smoked cigarette between your fingers. Your hazy eyes watched the clock briefly, considering if you should get a hotel, drive back home, or just sleep the rest of the night in your car. 

With not being able to spare much money for a room and not wanting to risk being murdered in the middle of the state park, you chose the latter. Truthfully, you didn’t want to go back home. It was never truly a home for you, but more of a transient place—an in-between.

The windows being rolled down and punk music blasting through the radio kept you from falling asleep behind the wheel. By the time you made it home, you only wanted to crawl into your bed, despite the hunger gnawing at your insides. 

But, of course, Joel was sitting on your front porch. Your headlights washed over him, showing you just how tired he looked. It was almost three in the morning, for Christ's sake. You weren’t sure that you had another fight in you. 

You didn’t even acknowledge him when you got out of your car and slammed it behind you, moving your body around him in an attempt to unlock your front door. The intensity of his stare was almost physical, and you nearly made it inside before Joel’s hand prevented you from opening the door.

“Stop,” Joel said, letting his hand fall away from yours as if he was scared to touch you for too long.

“Why are you even here right now?” you spat at him, guard high. His tone was still cold, and his shoulders were somehow even more rigid than when you left. “I don’t want to argue anymore tonight, Joel. Please, just—”

“Where were you?”  His jaw feathered.

As muddied as your dynamic has become, you knew you were not required to tell him anything. He wasn’t responsible for you. And, frankly, his cruelty should serve as a wake-up call. As much as you ached for him and wanted his attention, you knew that if you folded here and did what he wanted, you’d end up stuck in this place forever. Never progressing, forever in limbo.

Insecurity and abandonment issues be damned, you knew you deserved better than this place.

You took a wavering breath, trying to clear the emotion from your voice as you spoke. “I needed to get away. Please move.”

He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. “By yourself. In that piece of shit car,” he stated sharply. “In the middle of the fucking night. Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Yeah, Joel, I know how to fucking read.”

“Smart enough to read but not smart enough to realize how stupid and dangerous that is?” He scoffed. “How many times a week do the cops show up here for this reason or the other? How many missing posters are hung up in the park office, plastered with faces of girls that look an awful lot like you? An’ you just go wanderin’ around by yourself in the middle of the night when you know the kinda people that live around here.”

“What, people like you?” It was a low blow, and you knew it. And even though regret slithered through your gut as you watched disbelief flash in his eyes, you stood firm. “You…I was trying to help you, Joel. And I admit I might have crossed a line, but I didn’t deserve all those insults. And I don’t deserve them now, either. So get the fuck out of my way.”

You tried for the door again, but he stepped completely in front of it this time.

“Joel—!”

“Wait. Just…just wait.” He swallowed hard, throat bobbing. He started to speak and stopped several times. You knew he was trying to apologize, trying to find the words to smooth this over. 

But you weren’t helping him this time. It wasn’t your job to save him, just as he said. So you offered nothing in response because that’s what he wants from you, isn’t it?

And then the words came pouring out of him like a long-held sigh. “I lied before. An’ I shouldn’t have. I was angry. I don’t…I haven’t even opened the door since…I didn’t expect to see anyone in her room. Let alone you, who I…” 

He stopped again. Your heart raced. 

Your words were breathless. A whisper in the dark as you urged, “Who you what, Joel?”

“You…you mean somethin’ to me. An’ I shouldn’t have said all that earlier. I didn’t mean it. Not a fuckin’ word. But I…you…you terrify me. The world is a dangerous place for girls like you.”

“Girls like me?”

“Yeah, girls like you who see someone like me and don't cross to the other side of the street. Instead, you—” he paused, eyes downcast, suddenly interested in the crack in the wooden step beneath his feet. “You bring me dinner,” he continued with a disbelieving laugh. “An’ you ask me all these questions about my no-good life. Questions that you want to hear the answers for, like you’re really tryin’ to know me. An’ you look at me like…like there’s somethin’ worth lookin’ at.”

Your heart momentarily broke for him. It made sense that someone so angry was secretly just insecure. He was so scared of being loved, of losing someone he loved, that he’d instead soak in his own misery. 

“And if somethin’ were to happen to you, somethin’ preventable, I couldn’t live with it.” He scratched lightly at the scruff along his jaw. 

When you spoke this time, the words held less malice but remained resolute. “I know you see what’s happening here. It’s clear as day, isn’t it? I’m a young girl with no daddy to look out for her. And you’re someone’s daddy without a daughter.”

His eyes snapped to yours, filled with an unsaid warning that you didn’t heed. “It ain’t like that,” he insisted, but the lie bled right through his teeth.

“It’s not what it’s like; it’s what it is, Joel. And, you know, maybe you’re right. Maybe I am pathetic, wanting so badly for you to comfort me, to fill that hole my dad left behind. But at least I’m not denying any of it. At least I’m man enough to admit that I want it, that I want you, even if it’s in a fucked up way.”

Joel shook his head. “I can’t…I can’t be that for you. I’m not your daddy.”

“And I’m not Sarah.”

You watched as he flinched at the sound of her name, a visceral reaction that seemed to steal the breath from his lungs. Through clenched teeth, he said, “Don’t.”

Even knowing you shouldn’t, you closed the tiny space between you. So close you could feel his breath as it fanned over your lips. “You like to put on this front, like to think you can handle this on your own, that you don’t need anyone or anything. But I can see beneath all that, Joel Miller.”

That same venom from earlier made its grand return to his words. “Oh, and you know just what I need. S’that it? Think you’ve got me all figured out. Think you’ve got all the fucking answers.”

You nodded, determined. “You’re not as complex as you think. You’re just as scared to be alone as I am.”

Joel didn’t like that. You knew he didn’t want to be called out on his shit, but you didn’t have the energy to care anymore. It was too early in the morning to give a shit. 

His jaw was clenched so tight that you could see a muscle flex in his jaw, and if you weren’t so angry, you might’ve noticed the pang of attraction in your gut. 

“Fine.”

Then, he finally turned and walked away. His boots crunched against the gravel driveway as he stalked towards his home without a backward glance. He didn’t storm off or run away. He just left, his back straight and determined.

You hated that you watched him, unable to tear your eyes away until he entered his house. You were just grateful that you could finally lay your head on your pillow, instantly climbing into your bed when Joel left your peripheral vision. 

And even though he wasn’t there physically, he still haunted your dreams. Endless patterns of fighting and a brutal tug-of-war with Joel kept you from a soundless sleep. When you woke the next morning, it was in a hot sweat, with the hair on the back of your neck sticking to your clammy skin. 

The cold shower you prayed would wash away your woes did little to comfort you. By the time you were dressed in only shorts and a tank top, smoking a cigarette in your bedroom, you felt just as shitty as you did the night before.

The warm summer breeze moved through your bedroom from the open window, almost mocking you. That feeling of driving with Joel and having the wind pass between your fingers was returning with a vengeance. 

What right did Joel have to come into your life? To shake it up, to make you crave him and his affection. Why couldn’t you have chosen someone less fucked up, someone less confusing?

And almost on cue, you heard a heavy knock at your front door, and you knew it was him. By this point, you had absolutely had it. Why wouldn't he leave you alone if he didn’t want you? 

“What now?” you scowled when you yanked the door open, unsurprised to see Joel there, holding what appeared to be a book. Looking into his face showed you that all of his bark was gone; instead, his eyes were soft and almost apologetic. There was a faint crease between his eyebrows, his gaze heavy with an unspoken guilt. 

He glanced away for a second, looking back at his house as if he was looking for an escape plan if things didn’t go how he wanted. 

“Can I come in?” 

Joel’s voice was quiet, rough around the edges, almost like he had to force himself to speak. 

You took a moment to consider it. Did you want to keep this going? Could you handle any more arguments? Your eyes moved to look at the book in his hands, and through his long fingers, you could see the outline of a Polaroid photo tucked into a clear sleeve on the cover. 

“Please,” Joel all but begged, stepping a bit closer to you before quickly moving back, unsure if he had the right to shorten the space between the two of you. “I know it’s been a lot, but please, just let me try to explain. It’s hard for me… stuff like this. Feelings.”

The tone Joel was taking with you and the unspoken apology hanging in the air made you hesitate even more. His breath shuddered as he exhaled, clearly trying to discover a way to convince you that he meant what he was saying.

“I messed up.” Joel’s voice was calloused, raw, as if he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. “I’m sorry. Can I please come in?”

It was almost embarrassing that a simple ‘I’m sorry’ was enough to break you, but words like that coming from Joel made forgiveness all the easier. Joel was an uphill battle, but finally, you felt like you had won.

“Okay. But if you shout, or yell, or make me feel like shit, then you can leave the way you came in.”

His nod was stiff but confident. “No yelling. No making you feel like shit. I just wanna talk.”

It felt weird having Joel in your space. Your home was a stark contrast to his: neat and organized, with many decorative touches throughout, including books, odd paintings you’d rescued from the thrift store, and an unhealthy amount of foliage. 

You’d found a hobby of taking in half-dead plants, making it a challenge to yourself to prevent them from succumbing entirely. Ironic. 

Watching Joel’s towering figure sit down on your couch almost made you smile. It felt right for him to be there, in a weird, bizarre way.

“Cute place.”

And even though he was slowly working on making you forgive him, you wouldn’t lie down that easily. You only hummed a thanks in response before sitting beside him, the couch sinking under your combined weight. 

“So,” you began, gesturing to the photo album tucked in his hands. “What do you want to talk about?”

By God, you could feel Joel’s hesitation, the fear that he felt himself in allowing you to see his vulnerable side. But you wouldn’t baby him like you had been doing. If this was something he wanted, he had to decide on his own.

“I do like spendin’ time with you,” he admitted, surprising you with his bluntness. “More than you’ll ever know. But I meant what I said last night. I can’t give you what you want. This can’t be more than what it already is. A friendship.”

Both of you knew that was bullshit. As much as he wanted to tell himself that he hadn’t considered something more with you, you knew that if you wanted to get anywhere with him, you’d have to agree to his terms. You did enjoy the time you spent with him when it wasn’t full of bickering and whatever the hell else. He took care of you, cared about you. If those were his terms, then so be it.

For now.

“Okay.”

He nodded, sighing a breath of relief at your agreement. “Okay, then.”

Joel’s hands moved to open the photo album, his knees turning to bump into your own. From the first page, you knew that this was going to be incredibly challenging to sit through with him.

Sarah was held in Joel’s strong arms when she was a baby. He looked so young and full of life and promise, and he had tears in his eyes. 

“Remember rushin’ to the hospital since her momma’s water broke early. I was on a job site with my brother, with one of the most important clients we’d had at the time. It didn’t matter, not when I knew that Sarah was there, waitin’ for me.” 

His finger traced along the page, stopping when he felt you moving closer to his side. 

“She’s beautiful, Joel,” you whispered. He’d never been so open with you. Talking to him felt like calming down a wild animal, but you wanted him to know that you were there for him, despite what he believed he deserved.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “the most beautiful little girl I’d ever seen.”

He continued to flip through the book, filling in some of the gaps between the photos with stories. It seemed almost therapeutic for him to go through the pictures and relive what it was like when Sarah was still alive.

One photo in particular stood out to you because up until then, you’d only really seen either Joel, Tommy, or Sarah.

A woman with long blond hair sat with a baby Sarah between her legs, a thin smile across her lips. 

“Who’s that?” 

The second Joel glanced over to see what picture you’d pointed out, you could tell you hit a sore spot.

“Sarah’s momma,” he answered simply before flipping to the next page. You didn’t want to press him anymore about it, understanding that he was already putting himself in a vulnerable position. Somehow, you could still feel a frustration brewing in him the longer time passed on, until he finally let it out. 

“The cancer was genetic. Her momma had it when she was a kid, too, but beat it. When Sarah got diagnosed, she said she couldn’t be around all of that again, and she upped and left us one night. To think, it was her genes, her fault for it all, but she couldn’t even get the nerve to stick it out with us.”

You were stunned. Unable to speak, unable to form an ‘I’m sorry’ right back to him. He’d been through so much, and it made sense why things were so hard for him, especially now. 

“Would’ve tossed out that picture a long time ago if Sarah wasn’t in it. I don’t have many photos left of her, so I don’t wanna risk throwing anything away, even if it does bring back shit memories,” he explained to you. 

Despite how difficult you knew this was for him, reliving all these painful memories, it warmed your heart to realize that he had opened up and shared this part of himself, all for you.

And while he might not have been able to admit the root of your strange attachment to one another, he’d given you what he could. He had been trying so hard to mend the rift between you without opening a new wound within himself.

You laid your head on his shoulder, and at first, he stiffened. But then he relaxed even deeper into the couch cushions and sighed deeply.

The two of you sat there just like that for the rest of the night. Close enough to touch, but a friendly boundary drawn between you. Joel showed you every picture in the photo album and told you the stories behind each one. And even after you hear each tale tied to each picture, he continued to speak about her.

There was a sad smile on his face while he did, but you didn’t comment on it. You just asked questions about her, all the things you’ve ever wondered, and laughed when he told you about the art phase she’d gone through and how she’d painted a mural on the wall of the spare room at Tommy’s house that still existed today.

He told you about his brother, too. About how they’d been thick as thieves their whole lives. He explained how he’d pretty much raised Tommy from the day he was born. He’d never once minded it because his brother had always been his best friend. Their mom had always been off working this odd job or the other, working tirelessly as a single parent to provide for two rowdy young boys.

When you had asked about their dad, Joel shrugged and said simply, “Never met him.”

You thought maybe having an absent father of his own was why Joel was so quick to protect, to provide. It would be second nature for him to take care of someone. First Tommy, and then Sarah, and now…well. Now, you.

He and Tommy started their business together right out of high school, and it flourished immediately.

It had been Tommy’s idea to go corporate. And while Joel had hated the idea of it at first, he was thankful when Sarah got sick. Because selling his part of Miller Bros Construction back to Tommy had given Sarah an extra couple of months of treatment.

He told you everything and was patient each time you asked for clarification. Joel’s voice was soothing, low and deep, vibrating through his chest. It was not until late that night that he decided to go back home, and you knew you’d promised to keep things friendly, but you found yourself lingering in the door frame, trying desperately to find a reason for him to stay just a little longer.

“Thank you for opening up to me,” you say. “I know it’s not easy, but it means a lot; I hope you know that.”

“It’s the least I could do. After everything I said to you…” He shook his head, jaw feathered.

You reached out and placed your hand against his bicep. “It’s okay, Joel. Really. All’s forgiven, okay? I promise.”

He nodded in understanding, but you could still see the guilt that lingered on his face. It’ll take more time for him to forgive himself, you knew. But you made a silent promise to be patient with him, to do what you could to help him through it.

You said goodnight, but before he was entirely off the front porch steps, you said, “Wait, Joel?”

“Yeah, baby?”

The word stopped your heart dead in your chest.

He said it so casually you thought it must be an accident, an unintentional slip of the tongue. But he made no effort to take it back, to correct himself. And you thought that if he were ever going to repeat it, the best course of action would be to keep yourself from teasing him about it. 

So, you just smiled so hard your cheeks hurt and asked, “Can you give me a ride to work tomorrow?”

“Course. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Resuming your routine is easy, but this time, it was better. Deeper. He started to bring you a travel mug of coffee each morning and insisted it was only fair, considering you brought him dinner every night. And you can’t complain, and certainly not when you realize that Joel Miller made the best coffee known to man.

He talked more and made an effort to get to know you. He asked about your favorite songs, and the following week, you noticed a few new CDs in his collection. He ordered pizza every Friday night and got mushrooms on half when you told him it’s your favorite topping.

You asked him to take you grocery shopping on one of your off days. It was the first time you went out together, and though you got a couple of curious eyes from the townspeople, Joel didn’t seem to mind it at all. He followed you around the store, pushing the shopping cart while you tossed things into it and typed prices into the calculator app on your phone.

In passing, you said, “We really should start eating better. Less burgers, a couple more vegetables.”

“I haven’t really cooked much since…” He didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know what he was trying to say. And it saddened you so much to know he hasn’t cooked a hot meal for himself since the passing of his daughter, and so you made an offer.

“Alright, I’ll cook then. Dinner at your place. Do you have olive oil?”

He didn’t, so you added that to the cart, too. And you spent an hour that night in his kitchen, moving around as if it belonged to you, washing dishes while you waited for the chicken breast to sear in the pan.

Joel offered to help several different times, but you shooed him from the kitchen. You wanted to surprise him, to do something nice for him. He deserved it, to feel cared for the way he cared for everyone else.

When you finished, you set the plates on the small, round table in the kitchen. There were only two chairs, and it had been abandoned as far as you could tell, apart from the occasional pieces of mail that sometimes lived on it.

He hesitated for just a second when he noticed. Only then did you realize the last time he had sat at the kitchen table to eat a meal was likely with Sarah. So you said, “We can go to the couch if you want. Watch a movie or something. I just thought that-”

“It’s fine,” he insisted before he sat in one of the chairs. “It looks great.”

Even though you only made chicken and potatoes, he acted like it was the best meal he’d ever had. Between each bite, he showered you with compliments, and you glowed at the praise. He thanked you a hundred times, and the energy was easy and good.

So much so that you made dinner the following night, too. And the one after that, and the one after that…until it became just another part of your routine.

You always watched something together after, be it a new movie he picked up from the rental place downtown or a rerun comedy episode on TV. And it wasn’t uncommon that you’d fall asleep on his couch and wake up the following day with the scratchy wool blanket draped over you and a pillow from his bedroom beneath your head. 

You were fairly certain the only time Joel ever slept in his bed was on those nights that you fell asleep on his couch. You’d wanted to ask him why that was but discovered it one night on your own. 

Small grunts woke you from your peaceful slumber, one of your eyes cracking open to scan the room. You wiped a bit of drool away with the back of your hand before shifting to sit up, wondering what it was that woke you up. The TV was off, and the trailer park was dead silent; the only light came from the kitchen oven hood.

Then, you heard it, a slight, almost guttural whine coming from Joel’s bedroom. That’s when you decided to get up, pulling your blanket along to investigate what was wrong.

The bright LED from Joel’s clock lit his silhouette, and from what you could tell, he was sleeping soundly. You could feel the old linoleum creaking beneath your feet as you approached his side of the bed. Joel’s even breathing suddenly changed into that strikingly different whine, and when you moved closer, you could see the faint tears that were streaming down his face. 

You couldn’t leave Joel alone, crying in his sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to wake him. Instead, you did the next best thing, climbing into the bed beside him. Your movements were slow and calculated, and by the time you were positioned awkwardly next to him, it took all of your strength not to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

Joel’s body hardly moved, but you could feel the quiet sobs escaping him. How often did he sleep like this? Alone and hurting? Did he even realize that all of his pain was slowly eating away at him? 

It was becoming impossible to resist comforting him, so you did what you did best. You helped.

Your arm slipped through the space above his hip, spooning this massive man, hoping your presence could help calm him down. To your surprise, it did, and not before long, his cries subsided. 

Falling asleep with your body wrapped around Joel was a truly humbling experience. All of this time, you thought you suffered from insomnia, but all you needed in the end was Joel’s back pressed against your chest. No dreams, no nightmares… nothing. You hadn’t slept so well in years.

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking, something that made you tremendously happy. You could slowly see Joel take care of himself more, cooking meals that held sustenance rather than opting for something he could throw into the microwave. He could cook too, despite how humble he acted about it, occasionally cooking you breakfast on the mornings you’d slept over.

“Morning,” you chirped to Joel as you stepped out of his bedroom, basically bouncing on your heels to greet him. 

“Yeah. Morning.” His returning greeting was far less blithe. “Made coffee,” he said, nodding to the still-steaming mug that sat on the table. 

You sat and pulled your legs up to your chest, letting the hot mug thaw your cold fingers. Joel flitted around the kitchen, moved this thing or that, and turned the bacon searing in the pan on the stove too many times. It didn’t take you long to conclude that he was nervous. “Joel?”

He sighed as if hearing his name in your mouth was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He turned to face you fully, his spine pressed against the edge of the countertop. Through the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face, he said, “You can’t be doin’ things like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like crawling into my bed in the dead of night.” The words were firm, but he couldn’t seem to control that telling smile.

You couldn’t help but mirror it, because his words may say one thing, but you knew he was thinking another. “But you were having a nightmare. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Leave me be,” he said, his arms crossed over his chest. “Close the damn door.”

“So…you’re telling me you don't like waking up next to me? That you didn’t sleep better than you have in years?”

“Now, hang on—don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth—”

“So you did like it.” Your smile grew impossibly wider, and your cheeks ached. 

“I didn’t say that, either,” he insisted. A rosy hue crawled up his neck, reaching as far as the tips of his ears. “What I’m sayin’ is that it ain’t right. You’re so…so young. And good. Shouldn’t be in an old man’s bed. Definitely not one like me.”

You laughed. “God, Joel. You’re acting like we fucked or something.”

His embarrassment was palpable. A living, breathing thing you could sense immediately. He turned away from you, busying himself as he pulled out two plates.

You knew you shouldn’t, but it was just so easy to rile him up. Through your soft giggles, you said, “I’m just messing with you.”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head as he sat a plate in front of you and took his spot on the other side of the table. “Yeah,” he said flatly. “Real funny.”

It should have been the end of it. You should have respected the words he’d plucked up the courage to say. You should have kept your distance. 

But the next time you woke up on his couch in the middle of the night, it wasn’t him who had the nightmare. 

Your eyes were watery, and your fingers trembled as you crawled beneath his sheets and wrapped your arms around him. You pressed your face into the curve between his shoulder blades and inhaled the scent of him—pine, smoke, and Joel. It grounded you, knowing he was close, breathing him in.

He stirred in his sleep and then stiffened. You half expected him to push you away, to keep true to his words. But then you sniffled, and his muscles went slack. He took your hand in his and pulled it up to his face. He pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles, and with a sleep-muddled voice, he promised, “I got you. S’alright.”

The nightmare didn’t return. And the next morning, he didn’t say a word. He just served breakfast and put a little extra sugar in your coffee.

And, soon, it became just another part of your routine—one more thing to add to the ever-growing list. You never went to bed together, as if that small thing altered the truth of it. But, eventually, your time on the couch dwindled to less than fifteen minutes each night. It was as if you could feel his absence when he left your space, even in your unconscious state.

Often, Joel wasn’t even fully asleep when you slipped in beside him. His voice was groggy as he turned and wrapped you up in his big, strong arms and said, “Someone oughta teach you how to listen, girl.”

You just laid your head in the crook of his neck, which you suspected may have been made with you in mind. “Shh. I’m tired.”

One morning, you wake up slowly on a day when neither of you has any responsibilities. The sun shined through the worn lace curtains he’d likely had since the nineties. They cast intricate shadows across the pale blue fabric of his t-shirt.

Joel slept soundly, and his soft snores filled the room. You shifted closer to him and slid your hand beneath his shirt. It wasn’t until you laid your leg across his lap that you realized he was hard in his boxers, cock twitching beneath your thigh.

Your breath came fast, labored. Your desire for him hit you like a freight train, blinding you. You needed him so badly you thought you might die without it. And you knew what he’d say. You knew he’d find a reason to deny how you make him feel, insecurities eating up his yearning.

But you’d be a fool not to try, right? You have to try.

And so you peppered light kisses along his throat, tasting the salt on his skin. You felt so safe in his arms that you never wanted to leave. When you said his name, it came out as a whine, taking the form of a desperate plea. “Joel.”

You shifted your thigh slowly, pressing gently against his cock that steadily came to life as the seconds ticked by.

Your mouth found his jaw, kisses growing needier. “Joel,” you said again. And this time, he heard you, still half asleep as he tried to pry his eyes open.

His hand came up to stroke gently at your hair, so tender and affectionate that it made you ache. “Mornin’, baby.” 

That name again, sugary sweet in his mouth. You wanted to taste it, and so you did. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, slow and experimental. You were waiting for him to push you away.

Except he only pulled you closer, breathing out a sigh of relief that you inhaled like oxygen. He tasted like smoke, spice, and Joel. You scratched lightly at his side with the hand beneath his shirt, and his mouth opened to let out a groan. 

You took the opportunity as it came, slipping your tongue against his, drinking him in. You shifted your hips against him, his thigh pressed against your center so perfectly.

It’s only then, as the slight friction made his cock twitch, that Joel pulled away. “Sorry about that,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for…sorry.”

“It’s okay, I can help you,” you told him.

Joel let his head fall back against the pillows. There was an amused smile on his face as he scoffed in disbelief. “Fuckin’ crazy,” he said, shaking his head. “Got no business…Christ. Gonna be the death of me, little girl.”

You pulled yourself up onto his lap, straddling him. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing softly. “Please, Joel,” you whimpered, kissing him again. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Can’t play these kinda games with you,” he explained. But he shifted his hips up to meet yours when you grind down against him anyway. And you knew then that he was just as needy as you were. “You’re too good for me.”

“But I want you so bad,” you explained. You knew you shouldn’t, you knew it, but the words slipped out anyway. “Please, daddy.”

His grip on your waist turned tight enough to bruise, and you could feel his cock as it throbbed painfully between your legs. “Fuck. Fuck.” Joel closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and said, “Baby, you’ve gotta go.”

“What?”

“I need…shit. I need you to go. ‘Fore I do somethin’ I can’t take back. Please.”

He didn’t look at you. He kept his eyes firmly sealed shut as if looking up at you would change everything, and you knew it likely would.

And even though it hurt just a little, that pang of rejection, familiar poison in your belly, you did as he asked. You left his room, gathered your things, and returned to your nearly abandoned home, which felt far too empty without Joel in it.

An hour later, he knocked at your door with his truck keys in hand. “There’s a new movie coming out in the theater tonight. Figured we could go grab lunch and see it.”

He didn’t mention the morning, and neither did you. But it was all you could think about each time you looked at him, and you thought he saw right through you because he wore a secret smile all day. 

A week later, he set his mind on fixing your car. And you didn’t complain one bit because you got to sit in one of his old camping chairs, sipping on too-sweet lemonade while you watched him grease up his hands beneath the Texas sun.

As the summer went on, you began to notice small changes in him. He smiled more and laughed a little easier. Made more of an effort to do things, though they were always with you. He offered to help Kathy mow the lawn when Parker was sick, and even she noticed the change in him.

“Whatever you’re doing to that man,” she told you. “Better keep it up.” It’s said with a tone of adoration, and you knew you’d likely be the new gossip of the trailer park, but you don’t even mind it.

Truthfully, you liked the idea of everyone associating the two of you together. You liked the idea of being his.

After one absolutely terrible shift at Dazzlers, you found Joel’s truck in the parking lot and ripped the door open. Before he even has a chance to say hello, you exclaimed, “I fucking hate this job. Stupid freak customers always trying to grab ass that doesn’t belong to them and-”

“Did someone touch you?” His voice was still. Calm as death. He put the truck in park. 

You would have thought it would warm your heart if you hadn’t been so angry and irritable. He wanted to defend you, protect you, no hesitation. You sighed and shook your head. “They tried. But no. I need a fucking cigarette.”

As you pulled yourself up into the passenger seat, Joel pulled a Marlboro from the pack and lit it. He placed it between your lips and watched with amusement on his face as you let the nicotine wash over you. And then he said, “Made you something.”

Your brows furrowed. “Made what?”

He presented to you a small chunk of wood that had been carved into the shape of a familiar-looking flower. “Marigold,” Joel said. “Was talkin’ to Kathy about her garden. Said she always plants marigolds every summer cause they’re supposed to symbolize sunshine and healing or somethin’ like that. Reminded me of you.”

It was intricate, less a carving and more a piece of art. “Jesus, Joel. This is beautiful. You made this?”

He shrugged it off as if it was nothing. “Always liked woodwork since I was a kid.”

The talent he had struck you like an arrow to the heart, reminding you of the truth you’ve always known: Joel didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong in a dead-end life with a beaten-down trailer and nothing ahead of him. He thought you were too good for him but failed to see how good of a man he truly was.

You threw your arms around him, pressed a kiss to his mouth with grinning lips, and made a silent promise to yourself. 

You were going to get out of here, and you’re dragging him with you.

“I fucking love you, Joel Miller,” you said, and mean it. He didn’t even flinch. As if it wasn’t the very first time you’d said it and it wouldn’t be the last.

He didn’t say it back right away, but you hadn’t said it with any expectation. Yet, with your head on his chest late that night, he whispered into your hair, “I love you more, baby. Promise you that.”

You carried the marigold everywhere. It became your good luck charm, a protective talisman that made you feel safe no matter where you were.

And it’s the luck you needed late one night when you sat up in Joel’s bed, the laptop screen dimmed to near blankness, and you typed away at the keys as you applied to colleges all over Texas. You doubted any of them would take one look at your GPA and attendance and even consider you applicable, but it was worth a shot. It was worth trying.

On one particularly scorching July day, you sit on Joel’s couch in nothing but a red bikini top and a pair of cut-off denim shorts. He lounged beside you with a glass bottle of beer in hand, condensation making the label peel back beneath his fingers. The windows were open, and each rush of the wind felt like a gift from God.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is playing on Joel’s old junker TV, and even though he’s seen the movie a million times, he’s as infatuated with it as ever. At the same time, you’re sitting alongside him, bored and almost dying from the heat. 

“Why is it so hot?” you grumbled, shifting in your seat. Joel hardly even bats an eye at your complaints, his large palm coming to pull your legs up and over his lap. 

“Texas summer, baby. You’ll be used to it when you’re old like me.”

Your lips pouted at his dismissiveness, knowing Joel couldn’t change the weather but still craving release. 

“Ughhh,” you groaned, stretching across Joel’s thighs. “I’m melting.”

Joel is still locked into the movie, his lips mouthing some of the lines before they’re even said. ‘Every gun makes its own tune.’ If he wasn’t so cute, you might’ve been upset with how easily the film was taking him away from you.

So, you formed a plan.

“I can’t take it anymore,” you complain, gauging to see how Joel responds. He only hums out what could be interpreted as his condolences, spurring you on further. 

It was risky with open windows and even riskier knowing Joel was terrified to go past kissing you. But you liked the challenge. You liked knowing that even though Joel's falling apart was out of your control, you could be there to help him trust again. You’d already proven to yourself that you could make him love again. That you could be loved. 

You were ready for the next step.

The strings tying your top together fell with one swift move of your fingers, and the sound of the material dropping finally made Joel’s head turn to you. The priceless look on his face almost caused you to laugh, eyes wide and shocked. Things felt mudded, like you were moving through water. 

“Oops.”

You’d never exposed yourself to him before, but there you were, chest bared for the world to see. His eyes drank you in before ripping away, an expression of combined embarrassment and nerves washing over him.

“Stop. Put it back on,” Joel commanded, reaching to snatch your bikini top, but you were faster than him. You slipped the top behind your back, sandwiched between the couch and your warm skin. 

Joel sighed, a strained, frustrated sort of growl underneath the exhalation. “Please, baby.”

If you were a kinder, sweeter soul, maybe you would’ve granted him mercy. But it had been months of craving Joel’s affection, attention, and touch. 

“Joel. Touch me. I promise it’ll be worth it,” you begged, extending your hands to grab his palms. You watched his large hands get closer and closer to the rising peaks of your breasts, a whine getting caught in your throat when his skin finally grazed you.

But as soon as it came, it was gone. He pulled his hands out of your grip, shaking his head furiously. “No. I just… fuck. I won’t let myself ruin you.”

You weren’t taking no for an answer. You moved yourself off of the couch, opting to go to the floor.

“Daddy,” you whispered, your bare knees pressed into the plush carpet that covered the floor. Your eyes blinked up at Joel, innocent yet begging, begging for his attention. Begging to be loved.

Joel’s jaw flexed, and you watched the way his fists clenched at his side. It was fucked up, you knew that, but you needed it just as much as you knew Joel needed it. 

“Don’t. I already told you that we’re not playin’ these games. It ain’t right,” Joel hissed through gritted teeth, watching you crawl across the rug and settle between his thighs. 

You moved slowly but deliberately, holding your hands behind your back while only using your face to tempt Joel. Without breaking eye contact, you rubbed your face against the meat of his thigh, sighing at the feeling of the denim. 

Joel’s hands were clenching the tops of the couch, white-knuckled and flexing. You weren’t sure if he wanted to fuck you or throttle you, but you were so close to getting what you wanted that you didn’t even care. 

“Let me make you feel good. You deserve to feel good, daddy,” you whimpered, pressing a wet kiss against the rising bulge in his pants. The growl that left Joel was feral, making your blood run cold. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to control himself once he broke. He’s gonna ruin you.

“You needa’ go to therapy, you know that?” Joel huffed, but his words lacked any malice. His hips slightly lifted to follow the warmth of your lips, diminishing his attempted resistance.

You lapped at the tent in his denim pants, sucking and kissing until a wet spot formed. “Why go to therapy when I could be here, sucking your cock?”

Joel’s head tipped back on the couch, the shaking of his head making you smile. “You’ve got the dirtiest little mouth. Never had no daddy to teach you manners.”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Teach me, please. I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want.”

The press of Joel’s clothed cock against your mouth seemed to be enough for Joel to relinquish some control. His head tipped back down to look at you, a long pause making you swallow nervously. He watched you, dark-eyed and mysterious, and just as you opened your mouth to speak, he reached down and slapped you.

It was a simple thing, light and stinging slightly. It sent a jolt straight between your legs, and Joel noticed the way you squirmed in between his legs. A look of both disbelief and excitement flashed across his face before he jerked you by your hair, wrapping it around his big palm.

“Gonna stuff your mouth full’a me. Teach you how to behave. That’s what you need, yeah?” Joel questioned, reaching down to grab your hands and forcing you to undo his jeans. The hand that still had your hair wrapped around it pushed your face down once you reached his boxers, feeling your moan of approval reverberate against his cock.

“Christ,” Joel grunted, impatiently reaching down to free his cock. “Can’t believe a girl your age wants me to fuck your pretty mouth. You need help, baby.”

You whimpered and nodded, perfectly content in agreeing with anything Joel said if it meant you’d get to taste his sees in the back of your throat.

“Open wide,” Joel commanded, slapping his cock against your bottom lip. You obeyed wordlessly, whimpering at the feeling of Joel’s dick slipping into your throat. Absentmindedly, your hand reached between your thighs, quickly finding your clit before eagerly rubbing circles into it. 

Joel’s hand left your hair and instead moved to embrace your cheek, both of his palms cradling your face. He guided you, meeting your mouth with the brutal snap of his hips, the bulbous tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Though it would’ve been a barbaric pace for anyone else, you enjoyed the feral feeling of being mouth fucked by Joel, a man double your age.

“You can take all of it, can’t you?” Joel growled, less a question and more of a statement. His hips drilled up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat while your fingers pressed rapid circles into the slippery mess between your legs. 

Each snap of Joel’s hips left your nose buried into the coarse hair that covered the base of his cock. He held you there; the sudden silence and lack of guttural noises coming from your throat revealed just how close you were. Wet, sloppy, squelching sounds coming from between your legs.

Your middle finger had slipped inside your weeping opening, while your pointer finger rubbed relentlessly against your clit. The dark look on his face when he noticed what you were doing to yourself was almost enough to send you over the edge. 

Tragically, you didn’t have an opportunity to reach your growing climax. Joel moved around your head, your lips still wrapped around his cock, to grab your arm and rip it away. 

“Think you can play with yourself right in front of me? If you’re comin’, it’s gonna be on my face, baby.”

The whimper that escaped you would’ve been embarrassing to you if you weren’t so fucking turned on. Being ripped away from Joel’s cock made it that much worse. Your body was aching, practically pulsing, for some form of relief. Joel didn’t make you wait long.

He moved around on the couch so he was stretched out on his back across the cushions, his dick standing tall and hard for you. 

“Come on. You know where I want you.”

And, momentarily, your eyes flit over to his length, questioning if he’d let you get away with slipping him inside, just for a moment. The look on his face told you otherwise.

“Don’t even think about it. We can mess around a little bit if that’ll get this out of your system, but not that. No… intercourse,” Joel sneered, the word almost robotic in his mouth. “Now get up here.”

Instead of pushing it, you decided to break him down the further it goes. Leave him wanting, unable to resist. He’d be begging by the time you were done. 

Your chest was rising and falling with anticipation, watching your thighs sink around Joel’s broad shoulders. His large arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you forward and not wasting any time.  The sounds of his wet tongue lapping at you made you whine under your breath.

He created slow, deliberate circles around your clit, moving your hips to follow the way he tasted you. 

Christ, you knew he was going to make the wait worth it. Joel was so experienced, somehow knowing exactly where you needed the pressure of his tongue against you. 

You wanted him to feel good, too, to crave the feeling of you that he’d no longer be able to hold back. When you flipped around on his shoulders so you’d be able to suck his cock, Joel couldn’t hide the groan that left him. 

He felt heavy in your palm as you jerked him off, following the pace of his tongue. Your mouth was watering, and you were unable to slow yourself down, letting the tip of his cock slip past your lips.

Joel groaned, rocking up into your mouth. It all felt so feral, the sounds of your combined slurpings mixing with the chirps of birds outside the living room window. Joel’s curtains were pulled, hiding the raw sight of your bodies rutting, searching for pleasure. The curtains did not, however, hide the sounds escaping from both you and Joel. 

As hard as you tried, it was impossible to stop the noises leaving your throat. The second that one of Joel’s hands left your hips and slipped inside of you, you were practically about to explode. 

You were so wet that two of his fingers slipped easily in and out, his fingers curling in a motion that had you whining around his dick.

All it took was one last thrust of his hips into your mouth for you to lose it, whimpering through a white-hot fire that burned throughout your body. He worked his fingers in and out, helping you during the last moments of your orgasm. Just as quickly as you came, he pulled you off of him, his breathing fanning against your bare pussy.

“Don’t wanna come yet,” Joel groaned into the skin of your thigh, slipping his fingers out of you. “Wanna enjoy this for as long as I can.”

Both of you caught your breaths for a second, but you knew you couldn’t let Joel cool off for too long; you needed him to surrender to what he’d been aching for. 

He hardly resisted letting you crawl down his body and straddle his hips, the wet mess between your legs soaking Joel’s cock. A look in his eye let you know that he still had some fight left in him, but you wouldn’t let him win.

“Come on, daddy,” you whispered, rubbing your pussy against Joel’s throbbing cock. “Just the tip. It doesn’t have to be anything more. I wanna feel you.”

You could feel him twitching against you, a guttural growl rising from his throat. “We shouldn’t, baby. Don’t deserve someone as sweet as you. Too damn perfect.”

Your eyes watered as you looked down on him, wishing he could see himself the way you see him. He was much too hard on himself.

The taste of yourself stained your lips when you kissed him, your tongue slipping into his mouth. You shifted your hips, catching the head of his dick on your clit. With a little more pressure and the twist of your thighs, he’d slip in.

“I love you, Joel. You can have me. I’m already yours,” you kissed his lips. It finally seemed like enough to break him. Your admittance triggered Joel, motivating him to push his hips up, smashing into your own. You sank onto him, gasping in surprise.

The tips of your nails dug deep into the skin of his tanned shoulders, probably with enough force to make him bleed, but Joel couldn’t care less. His jaw flexed, tension ripping through his face as he pushed his heels against the couch's cushion. His pace was brutal, relentless, but you accepted the savagery, lapping every last drop Joel gave you. 

“I love you,” you moaned again, your back arching and leaving everything on full display for Joel. His eyes ate you up, moving back and forth, mentally photographing your every inch like he was afraid you’d magically disappear from his arms. 

The leather couch groaned when Joel suddenly moved, sitting up and wrapping his arms around your hips into an embrace. Your mouths collided in a frenzy, bodies grinding and hands grasping desperately. You’d never felt so understood before, moaning in the way Joel touched you. His fingers slipped between your bodies and pressed precisely where you needed it the most. 

A fire burned deep inside you, a furious warning that you were approaching your peak. You didn’t want it to end. You’d finally been rewarded after working hard to break down Joel’s walls. 

“Stop,” you gasped against Joel’s mouth, “‘bout to come. Don’t want this to end.”

Your words did nothing to stop Joel from slowing down; as a matter of fact, you could’ve sworn he sped up. The skin of your thigh was beginning to stick to the leather because of how much you were sweating due to pure exertion. 

“It don’t gotta ever end, baby. I’m all yours, if you want me.”

A feeling grew deep in your gut, one that you would be scared of if you weren’t so in love with Joel. He had you, and you knew you would die before giving up on him. You’d drag him out of town with you if you had to.

A few more circles of his fingers and you were falling apart under his touch. Your body shuddered as a hot coil raced through you, making you fall limp in Joel’s lap. He groaned at the way your pussy was shuddering around him, squeezing him just right.

“I’m snipped. Didn’t wanna have any more kids, after. Let me fill you up, pretty baby. I’d feel so good.” 

It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t sterile.

Your response either way was to rut against him. Though you were twitching from overstimulation, you wanted him to know you wanted it. A slick rolled down your thighs, and you could feel a groan from Joel reverberate through him. 

The sound of a dog barking outside thankfully drowned out your desperate moans. 

He held you tight, both of your bodies covered in a coat of sweat. Even though you were still hot, you couldn’t pull yourself away from his furnace of a chest. You could feel his dick softening in you after a couple more thrusts. 

“I want you, Joel. If you’ll have me.”

Things moved real easy after that. Joel wasn’t holding anything back anymore. He’d talk to you about anything you’d ask, and slowly moved in some of your personal items so you could sleep over more often. Pajamas in his drawer, got a spare toothbrush, and did anything he could to convince you to spend every night spread underneath him. 

Then you got it in the mail. You’d slipped away from Joel so you could do some laundry, despite how much he’d tried to convince you just to use up his water and detergent. Truthfully, you wanted to restock your necessities so you could keep spending each night with Joel. Plus, you need to water your plants.

When you stepped into your doorway, you glanced down at the spread of letters at your feet. Jeez, it really had been a couple of days since you’d been there last.

You crouched down to retrieve the mail, nothing piquing your interest until you landed on the UOD logo. 

University of Dallas. 

The paper shook in your hands when you ripped it open. There was no way.

Blah, blah, blah… accepted.

Accepted.

So many things flashed through your mind. All of the possibilities. The opportunities. 

You'd held it together long enough to do your laundry and water your plants. By the time you’d gotten what you needed and returned back to Joel, he was starting dinner. 

He hummed a Zeppelin song under his breath as he moved back and forth in the kitchen. Joel had made it almost a competition to become a good cook for you. He’d always cooked homemade meals for Sarah, but eating nothing but takeout for three years could make you lose your touch.

“What’s got you smilin’ like that? Stealing all those pretty little smiles from me,” Joel tsked, kissing you on the lips when you met him in the kitchen. You stood on your tippy toes to reach him, your mind buzzing from the taste of his lips and the scratch of his beard.

“I have something to tell you.”

Joel hummed, pulling back away from you. His eyes looked curious, moving to watch you uncover the envelope from behind your back. You held out the letter, allowing him the opportunity to read it himself. 

He scanned the page, his pupils moving back and forth to take in the information. The expression on his face changed slowly, turning what was once glee that you were back home into something entirely unreadable.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, instantly noticing the change in his demeanor. He sighed, handing the paper back over to you.

“Knew you’d always be the one to get out of this place. It's no surprise that some fancy college would want you.”

The bitterness in his words made you recoil in annoyance. Why couldn’t he just spit out whatever he meant instead of playing this intricate facadé?

“I thought you’d be happy for me,” you whispered angrily, turning to leave the situation, but Joel’s palm on your wrist stopped you. 

“Baby, of course I’m happy for you,” Joel explained, his free hand reaching to cradle your face. “I’ve only ever wanted the best for you, and I never doubted that you’d go out and do great things. It’s just… I don’t wanna lose you.”

“Joel, what are you talking about?” You laughed, watching a look of disbelief cloud his face. “I thought it was obvious that I wouldn’t leave this place without you. You’re coming with me.”

He hesitated, pausing as if he wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted to say. 

“Talk to Tommy. Tell him that you want to get back in the business. Go back to Dallas, to be with him. To be with me.” 

Joel released your wrist before rubbing a large palm down his beard, clearly not quite on board with your suggestion.

“Tommy don’t want nothin’ to do with me-“

“Be serious,” you said, cutting him off. “We both know that’s bullshit. You’ve told me all the stories about the both of you growing up, thick as thieves. He wouldn’t just give up on you. You just have to show him that you’re ready to change.”

The room was momentarily silent, thoughts and questions swirling through the space. Joel moved away to check on the food in the oven, and you waited, allowing him a moment to decide what he wanted to do.

He stood against the kitchen counter and finally spoke. 

“I don’t know.”

Joel looked scared, petrified to let himself be vulnerable with yet another person. He was constantly afraid of letting others down that he wouldn’t even allow himself to be momentarily uncomfortable. 

Your hands found his, wanting to comfort him by wrapping your palms around his own. 

“It’s okay not to know. It would be a big change, but I wouldn’t want to go through with it without you. If you don’t want me to go, then I won’t. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

His features softened at your words. “You’re too good for me,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He was such a good man — a good father, a good friend, a good person, and you hated that he couldn’t see it. You wished you could take his shoulders and shake some sense into him, but knew your words would fall on deaf ears. “If you want to go, we go. And if you want to stay, we stay. But we do it together.” You pointed a finger at his nose. “You got that, Miller?”

Joel laughed softly. He placed his hands on your hips, pulled you close, and kissed your forehead. “Just…give me a couple days. Some time to think it over. Can you do that for me?”

You replied, “I’d do anything for you,” and meant it. 

Though it took more willpower than you’d originally thought, you bite your tongue for the following week. You didn’t want to pressure him into anything, hoping he’d decide organically. But the more time went on, the more restless you became.

Joel did a good job of distracting you, worshipping your body as if he was afraid it’d disappear in his grasp. One evening, your mind was running haywire after dealing with bullshit at work on top of dealing with your college application documents. 

You were lying in bed with him, attempting to read a book while Joel flipped through the television across from the bed. After reading the same paragraph for the fourth time without retaining any information, you groaned in frustration, tossing the book onto the floor. 

He recognized your stress, and knowing that he was a small contribution to the tension you were feeling, he sought to alleviate it. You found his head buried between your legs, his tongue prodding and guiding you to your release. Joel didn’t mind the way your thighs squeezed against his skull, and in fact, he encouraged the pressure of your legs.

Each time you reacted in excitement, Joel would find that sweet spot again and again, fingers scissoring, curling, making you shudder and arch away from his bed. 

He was a relentless lover, not allowing you to escape the wrath of his mouth. Joel’s palms pulled you back down as he held you in place, his iron grasp limiting your movement. He took advantage of your lack of control, allowing himself to devour you without any limitations. 

The shaking of your thighs and the increased whimpering from your mouth told him everything he needed to know; you were reaching your climax fast, and he wasn’t going to allow you to escape from his onslaught. 

“Wait,” you breathlessly pleaded, threading your fingers through his grey-streaked hair in hopes of slowing him down. Despite his age, Joel had the energy of a teenager, and a simple yank of your hands wouldn’t be enough to stop him. 

A few more laps of his tongue and a couple curls of his fingers were enough to have you falling apart in his grip. Your breath was stuck in your throat when you came, a white hot heat racing through your body like a bolt of lightning. 

A simple orgasm was never enough for Joel; you had learned that early on. He needed you to melt, to become a literal puddle of tears and sweat underneath him. Then, he would finally stop.

He continued to feast on you, his beard covered with your slick and his eyes watching you like a predator. 

“Please,” you begged, “Fuck, Joel, please.”

He ignored you, adding a third finger inside of you before pulling away momentarily. The sight of your slick coating his face with the hungry look in his eyes made your chest tighten with desire. 

“I know you can give me one more, baby. You were throwin’ yourself at me before, beggin’ for it. Want you to show me what you got.”

He didn’t allow a moment of reprieve, instantly diving back in to taste you like a man starved. You were attempting to push him away, but he wasn’t having any of it. Eventually, all of your resistance faded due to exhaustion, and all you could do was lie there, limp and motionless. 

Your mouth was half open, and your eyes were glued up at Joel’s popcorn ceiling when you finally climaxed again. A rush of wetness washed Joel’s face and hands, but he didn’t seem to mind; in fact, it urged him all the more. When he finally was satisfied, he pulled away from you, your sensitive body trembling against his ruined sheets. 

His dark, piercing eyes were locked on you when you finally came down from your momentary ecstasy. His face was dripping from your exertions, but he didn’t mind. It was almost petrifying to see how eager he was, and you knew that the night was just beginning.

“Think she’s finally ready for me,” Joel hummed, slapping his large palm against your overstimulated, puffy pussy. 

He was insatiable. It took one last orgasm from you and a couple of thrusts in your clenching, wet heat to get Joel to finally unravel. 

You’d never get tired of feeling Joel’s sweaty chest pressed against yours as he kissed you, whispering how lucky he was to have you wrapped up in his sheets. 

One night was different, though, and Joel knew he couldn’t just distract you with sex. You needed comfort - to know that he wanted to be all in with you, despite the pressure of the commitment. It was a lot to ask from Joel, but you couldn’t move on without him. You needed him.

You were tossing and turning in bed beside him, unable to find sleep, your mind spinning with all the possibilities that came with leaving town. You could be something, he could be something. All it would take is a little push, a change of scenery. If he decided to stay here, you knew you’d be content with him no matter what.

In a house he built or in this trailer, you knew Joel would always keep you happy. 

But would you come to resent him later on, the what-ifs weighing on your shoulders for years? Would the missed opportunities eat at you like a worm in your belly?

Joel turned onto his back with a heavy sigh. “Get it out, baby. Say what’s on your mind.”

“We…you deserve to keep living, Joel.” You propped yourself up on an elbow. And though he couldn’t see you, the room nothing but darkness, your brows pinched together in frustration anyway. “I could go to back to school, get a degree, find a good paying job where people don’t try to grab my ass for fun. And you could build houses with your brother again, or do woodwork or whatever you wanted. I…I’m going to say something, but I don’t want you to get mad. Promise you won’t get mad.”

He hesitated for a single second. And then said, “Alright. I promise.”

“What happened to Sarah wasn’t your fault. And you did everything you could, sacrificing your life in hopes of extending hers. And I wish…” Your voice cracked, and emotion bubbled up in your throat. “I wish so badly that things had ended up different for her. But they didn’t and I’m so sorry for it. And I…I didn’t know her well, but, Joel, I know this isn’t what she’d want for you. And you know it, too, don’t you?”

He responded with silence. You could hear only his breathing, slow and steady.

“You’re still here. You’re here, with me, and you deserve to live the rest of your life doing the things you love. You’re better than this place.” Tears welled in your eyes.

Joel put his hand in yours, and it took little persuasion for him to pull you against his chest. “Don’t cry for me, sweet girl,” he said softly. “We’ll talk more in the morning. Okay?”

And for the night, his promise was enough.

Joel made breakfast the following day. Pancakes and eggs and coffee just the way you liked it.

You ate on the couch with the weather channel on the TV in the background. The suffocating heat was finally coming to an end; summer concluded. You didn’t want to ruin the morning, but the anticipation kept you from enjoying your meal. “So…it’s the morning. Did you want to talk more about it, or…have you decided?”

Joel nodded and washed a bite down with a sip of coffee. “Yeah,” he said. “I decided.”

“And…?”

He spread out, making himself comfortable. “Well, I actually got a hold of Tommy the other day.”

“You what?” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might burst. “You called him? You didn’t tell me!” Breakfast forgotten, you tucked your legs beneath you and hid your anticipated smile behind your hands. “What did he say?”

Joel laughed. “Actin’ real hopeful for someone that said they’d be happy either way,” he teased. 

“I will be,” you reassured him. You inhaled deeply. “No matter what, we’ll be okay as long as we’re together. But…God, Joel! What did he say?”

For the first time all summer, he gave you a smile that reached his warm eyes. One that felt good and joyous and real. 

One that felt hopeful. 

“Should probably start packin’, baby.”

taglist; @realdirectionx @xxx-silhouette-xxx @cuteanimalmama @peelieblue

[jonny-versace]

I do understand the pain Aaron and Vic feel by being cut off from Robert. But they are kind of acting like he did it selfishly and didn’t suffer double in prison because of it. They keep throwing at him how much they moved on - which is what he wanted them to do and couldn’t because he was locked up. It feels weird they can’t acknowledge how much greater he suffered the last 6 years

I think that's kinda looking at things a little too unkindly tbh anon, I think both Aaron and Vic both know he likely went through hell while inside. Aaron obviously had his own horrors inside and he didn't spend close to six years there, and he said before Robert even went there that Robert wouldn't last. And Vic, angel of the north, obviously has no idea what its like, she acknowledged that on the wedding day. And we know from what Isabel said that Vic carries a lot of guilt because she's "responsible" for him going away (which is A Lot, she didn't hand him the shovel, even though he was dead right to hit Lee), I feel it's likely we'll dig deep into the Robert and Vic of it all, Ryan said he's mainly shot with her.

As for Aaron, he's pissed the fuck off, he's in no place whatsoever to lend a sympathetic ear. Why would he be? Let's not forget, cut off for six years, full no contact, then as iconic and life affirming as it was, out of the blue Robert crashes his wedding day and unleashes a bunch of shit he's spent six years trying to get over. Of course Aaron knows somewhere inside that what Robert did wasn't spiteful, or intentionally hurtful, but at the same time OF COURSE his emotion overrides reason, it's Aaron. And the emotion he's mainly having is "he can fuck all the way off", and thats valid. His time will come, eventually, but for now I think him closing himself off as much as he can is reasonable to say the least

[arcaneorphic]

Unravel Me

Pairing: Remus Lupin x F! Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU (Reincarnation) Series, Angst, Hurt/ Comfort, Fluff, Slow burn

Summary: Remus Lupin never believed he had a soulmate—until one accidental touch shatters his carefully built walls. The wolf inside him has always known, but Remus refuses to accept that fate could be so cruel as to tie her to him. Haunted by longing and fear, he tries to run, but she is relentless—warmth slipping through the cracks, undoing him piece by piece. As desire wars with self-doubt, Remus must decide: fight fate or surrender to the one thing he’s always denied himself.

Word Count: 4867

Prev. // Next

Chapter Two: Avoidance

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

He still refused to talk about what happened that night during James’ party, but it was easy enough to piece together. James didn’t push, but he watched him with that knowing look, the one that meant he was just waiting for Remus to break and tell him everything. Sirius had the decency to keep his comments to himself—at least for now—but the pointed glances were enough. Even Peter seemed to have caught on.

But none of them could understand.

Because they weren’t the ones who had spent the full moon haunted by the ghost of something they’d never even let themselves have. They hadn’t spent the night chasing the memory of warmth, of a touch that had barely lasted a second but had burned itself into his skin all the same. They didn’t have to fight against the bone-deep, agonizing need that the wolf had sunk into him the moment he let go of her.

So, no. He wouldn’t talk about it.

Because if he did, if he let even a single word slip past his lips—he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Ignoring her was proving a nearly impossible task. She, as it turned out, was relentless. It wasn’t that she was forceful—not in the way Sirius could be, all sharp edges and stubbornness—but in a way that was far more dangerous. She was persistent in the way warmth always found its way into the cracks, in the way sunlight pressed against closed curtains until it filled a room. A quality surely meant to offset his own proclivity to yield.

Where Remus was retreat, she was pursuit. Where he pulled away, she stepped closer. And it wasn’t fair because she wasn’t supposed to notice him. Not like this. Not enough to seek him out, to throw a wrench in the distance he had so carefully placed between them. But she did. Again and again.

And worse still? A part of him—one he was trying desperately to bury—wanted her to keep going.

Remus did everything in his power to minimize the already little interaction they had prior to the… incident. He still wasn’t sure what to call it. It wasn’t anything, really—at least, not in the way that made sense. But it had been something, something that had settled into his bones and refused to leave, something that had shaken him enough to pull away entirely.

So, he avoided her. He took different paths to class, left the Great Hall earlier than usual, always seemed to have somewhere else to be whenever she was around. If he had to be near her, he kept it brief. Short nods. Muted acknowledgments. Nothing more. 

It was hell. Pure, undeniable hell. 

Avoiding her should have been easy. It should have given him space to breathe, to push whatever this was into the back of his mind and forget it existed. All avoiding her did was make everything worse. 

Because now, instead of fleeting moments stolen in passing, instead of brief conversations that never meant anything but felt like they did—he had nothing. Just the aching absence of her, the gnawing awareness that she was still there, just beyond reach. 

It was made worse even still because she saw right through him. She kept her distance, but Remus had a sneaking suspicion that ‘for now’ should be tacked on to the end of that. 

She wasn’t stupid. She had to see the way he avoided her, the way his gaze never quite settled when she was near, the way he forced himself to stay away. And yet… there was no frustration in her expression when their eyes met across a crowded corridor, no anger when he barely acknowledged her in passing.

Just something knowing. Something patient. Something that sent a sharp, sinking feeling straight to his gut.

Because if he knew anything about her—and fuck, did he—then he knew this:

She wouldn’t let this go.

Not forever.

That train of thought made him pause, because he didn’t know her. They’d only spoken a handful of times and none of them particularly significant. Nothing that would tell him that she could be one of the most persistent witches to exist. Nothing that should tell him what kind of person she was, nothing that should make him so certain. 

And yet… he was.

With the same quiet, bone-deep certainty that told him the sun would rise in the morning, that the full moon would come whether he was ready or not—he knew:

Knew that she was relentless.

Knew that she was the kind of person who didn’t let things go, who would wait with impossible patience until the moment was right, and then strike with precision.

Knew that no matter how much distance he put between them, no matter how many times he turned away, it wouldn’t matter.

Because eventually—inevitably—she would come for him.

He could see it, when he allowed himself a glance at her. (Again, sue him. He was just a man). It was in the way she looked at him—not with frustration, not with confusion, but with a quiet, measured patience. Like she was waiting. Like she had already made up her mind about something and was simply biding her time.

It was unnerving.

Because Remus knew that look. He’d seen it before, in James when he was set on winning a match, in Sirius when he refused to let something go. It was determination, unshaken and absolute.

A traitorous part of him wanted her to come for him. 

Part of him wanted her to look him in the eyes and tell him that he was being an idiot, tell him that running and avoiding her did nothing. That it didn’t change the way the air shifted when they were near each other, didn’t erase the way his entire being knew her, recognized her in a way that defied logic.That it didn’t stop the wolf from howling for her. 

Then there was when the wolf wasn’t howling and instead doing something he’d never heard before—whimper.It was soft, aching and pitiful. Remus was glad no one else could hear it because it was downright pathetic. It was bad enough that he could hear it, feel the miserable weight of it pressing against his ribs, curling at the edges of his resolve like a wounded thing begging for relief.

But another part of him—the part that had spent years building walls, reinforcing them with ironclad discipline and careful distance—prayed she wouldn’t.

Because if she did, if she forced him to acknowledge what he already knew, he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to keep running. He knew that the moment she did that he would be a goner. So utterly enthralled by her—by whatever she said, whatever she did—that every carefully constructed excuse, every attempt at distance, every single reason he had convinced himself to stay away would crumble at his feet.

Because it was her.

And no matter how much he tried to fight it, no matter how much he wanted to believe he could resist, Remus knew he wouldn’t stand a chance. If one accidental touch had sent his whole life careening off its axis, then what would something else do?

What if she reached for him first? What if she meant to touch him—to hold his hand, to brush against him in passing, to lean in just a little too close? What if she said his name in a way that made it impossible for him to pretend he didn’t want her?

What if she kissed him?

The thought sent something both sharp and foreignly soft through his chest.

Because if that ever happened, if he let himself have that, even for a second—there would be no coming back from it.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus should have known that Sirius’ withholdment of sarcastic comment or quip meant he was plotting something. And he did, at least to some degree. He wasn’t stupid. He knew Sirius better than anyone, knew that when he was too quiet, too pleased with himself, it meant trouble was brewing.

But what truly solidified the idea—what made his stomach twist with something unwelcome—was when he spotted Sirius speaking to her.

They were standing far too close for his liking.

Sirius, all easy charm and effortless confidence, flashing her the kind of grin that made people fall at his feet. And her—head tilted, lips curved slightly, engaged in whatever nonsense Sirius was feeding her.

Remus clenched his jaw so hard it ached.

He had no right to feel this way. He knew that. He had no claim, no reason for his fists to tighten at his sides, for his chest to burn with something dangerously close to jealousy.

And yet, as Sirius leaned in slightly, his voice low and conspiratorial, and she laughed—soft and warm, the kind of laugh Remus had never been on the receiving end of—he felt something inside him snap.

The wolf, who typically regarded Sirius and the other members of the Marauders as part of its ‘pack’ now wanted to throw Sirius out of the nearest window. Or maybe that was just Remus. 

Regardless, the wolf snarled in his mind, a low, guttural thing filled with nothing but ire. It wasn’t just angry at Sirius, at the way he leaned in too close, at the way he made her laugh like it was effortless—no, it was angry at Remus too. Furious that he was just standing there, doing nothing, pretending this wasn’t clawing at him from the inside out.

She’s ours, the wolf raged, a primal, possessive thing that made Remus feel sick.

But she wasn’t.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? The wolf didn’t understand restraint. It didn’t care about logic or consequence or the simple fact that Remus had no right to claim anything. It only knew what it wanted—and right now, it wanted to rip Sirius away from her and place itself in his stead.

Remus inhaled sharply, forcing the feeling down, willing his hands to unclench. This was fine. It had to be fine. He had spent years convincing himself he could live without things like this—he wasn’t about to fall apart now.

But as she smiled up at Sirius, her eyes bright, something inside him whispered that it was already too late. All those walls he had built were for what? To be torn down by a pair of eyes that seemed to look right through him? For a laugh that made every cell in his body warm? 

Yeah… he guessed so. 

Because despite every excuse, every well-reasoned argument he had tried to convince himself of, the truth was humiliatingly simple—he wanted her. Not just the monster that lay just beneath his skin, but Remus wanted her. And worse, he didn’t think he’d ever wanted anything quite so badly.

And now, standing there, helpless to do anything but watch as she tilted her head at Sirius, still smiling, still radiant—Remus realized the most dangerous thing of all.

He could run. He could ignore her, pretend he felt nothing, pretend his wolf wasn’t snarling, that his hands weren’t itching to reach for her instead.

It wouldn’t matter.

Because deep down, whether he admitted it or not—she had already won.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── 

Later that evening, when Sirius returned to their shared dorm, Remus had tried to bite his tongue—really, he had.

He had told himself it didn’t matter. That it was nothing. That Sirius could talk to whomever he pleased, that it wasn’t any of Remus’ business, that he had no right to feel anything about it.

But the second Sirius strolled in—far too pleased with himself, if you asked Remus—his restraint cracked.

“You’re an idiot,” Remus muttered, voice tight, not bothering to look up from where he sat at his desk,grip tightening on his quill imperceptibly.

Sirius blinked, caught off guard for all of a second before that infuriating grin curled at his lips. “Alright, Moony, what’ve I done this time?” His tone was light, teasing—completely unaware, or worse, entirely aware of whatever had set Remus off.

Remus inhaled sharply, counted to three, then exhaled through his nose. Calm. Stay calm. “You know what.”

Sirius tilted his head, mock confusion written all over his face as he shed off his robe and left it draped over the back of his chair. “Do I, though?”

“What’d he do?” James asked, barely paying attention, his voice muffled as he sprawled lazily across his bed, twirling his wand between his fingers. Oblivious as ever to whatever perceived crime Sirius had committed against Remus.

And Sirius—still smirking, still looking entirely too pleased with himself—just watched. Waiting.

Remus clenched his jaw. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of rising to the bait. He wasn’t.

But, Merlin help him, he was already halfway there.

Remus, for as stubborn as he could be, seemed to also be a very very weak man when it came to anything relating to her, “What did you two chat about?” He asked in a tone that he hoped came off as nonchalant. It didn’t. 

“Who?” James cut in, now properly invested, his curiosity fully piqued. He sat up, brows furrowed, glancing between them. “Who’s he on about?”

The question was directed at Sirius, because clearly, he wasn’t going to get an answer from Remus—who had now fixed his gaze stubbornly on the desk, willing himself not to react, not to let them see how deep this ran.

Sirius, ever the bastard, only chuckled. “Oh, you know,” he drawled, looking far too smug for Remus’ liking. “A certain someone who had our dear Moony here looking like he’d been hit with a Confundus Charm.”

James’ eyes widened in realization, a slow, incredulous grin creeping onto his face. “Her?”

Remus groaned, already regretting opening his mouth at all.

Remus knows Sirius is baiting him, knows he should just let it go, act unbothered, unaffected. But the wolf is already stirring, restless, irritated, and his own temper is fraying at the edges.

James lets out a low whistle, eyes flicking toward Remus with entirely too much interest. “Oh, this is good,” he says, clearly delighted. “Moony, you’ve been holding out on us.”

Remus pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling sharply. “There’s nothing to hold out on.”

Sirius hums in faux thought. “Funny, mate, because if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous.”

It takes everything Remus has, every ounce of discipline and reminder that Sirius is his friend, to not throw him out the sodding window. “You’re an idiot,” he repeats unable to stop the sharp edge in his tone. “I’m not jealous. There’s nothing to be jealous about.”

“Oh?” Sirius is quick to reply. “Then it’s no issue that I might’ve asked her to Hogsmeade this weekend, yeah?” 

Every person in that dorm, save for Sirius, froze for a moment. Peter, because he could feel the sudden shift in atmosphere, eyes darting between them like he was already calculating the safest exit. James, because he knew what was coming and was already gearing up to stop Remus from doing something stupid. And Remus—Remus froze out of sheer, unfiltered disbelief.

The words didn’t register at first, didn’t quite compute. Because surely—surely—Sirius was just pushing his buttons, winding him up for fun. That’s what this was. It had to be.

But Sirius, the absolute menace, was still grinning like he had just won something. “What?” he said, voice drenched in faux innocence. “I figured, since you aren’t going to do anything about it, someone ought to.”

The room was silent for all of a second before James sighed heavily, already moving to stand. “Oh, for fuck’s sake—Remus, don’t—”

Too late.

Remus had already shoved himself to his feet, chair scraping harshly against the floor. And the look in his eyes?

It promised violence.

“I should thank you, really,” Sirius never did quite know when to stop. “I hadn’t really noticed her before, you know? Can’t believe I hadn’t because Merlin she’s a looker, huh, Moons.”

Peter let out a strangled noise, half between a cough and a plea for Sirius to shut up, but it was useless.

James groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “Oh, you absolute twit.”

But Remus?

Remus wasn’t listening to James, or Peter, or even to the voice of reason in his own head that told him Sirius was doing this on purpose.

All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears, all he could see was Sirius’ smug expression, and all he could feel was the sharp, unrelenting heat of something ugly curling in his chest.

It wasn’t just anger.

It was possession. It was the wolf, pushing past his carefully laid barriers, snarling at the mere idea of Sirius looking at her that way.

Remus had always been good at restraint. He had spent years perfecting it.

But right now?

Right now, he was about three seconds away from breaking every rule he had ever made for himself. It wasn’t just from the way the wolf snarled about possession, it was the way Sirius spoke about her. 

Hadn’t noticed her? Not only was the man a fucking idiot, but he was blind too. Even before all of this, Remus had noticed her, had been so keenly aware of her that it bordered on embarrassing. 

The way she walked into a room and seemed to make space for herself without even trying. The way her laughter had a way of reaching him even in the noisiest of crowds. The way his gaze would find her before he even realized he was looking.

And now Sirius—Sirius—had the audacity to act like she had only just appeared in his line of sight? Like she was just another passing distraction?

Remus inhaled sharply, forcing his fists to unclench. He would not lose control. He would not give Sirius the satisfaction of seeing just how deep this ran.

But fuck, he wanted to knock that smirk clean off his face.

He wouldn’t, of course, because even if he was short on brain function Sirius was still one of his best friends. Unfortunately. 

Remus knew Sirius was doing this to get a rise out of him—to push, to prod, to force him into admitting feelings he was nowhere near ready to express. But knowing that did little to quiet the less rational part of his mind.

The part that wasn’t just angry, but deeply upset.

Because Sirius wasn’t just some idiot trying to wind him up—he was one of his best mates. Someone who should have known better, who should have seen how much this was getting to him. And yet, here he was, provoking him anyway.

He was upset at Sirius, yes, but also at her. Which somehow was even worse, because he didn’t know her. Not in this body, not in this life. He had no right to feel this way—no reason for his chest to ache, no excuse for the bitterness curling at the edges of his thoughts.

And yet, it still felt like a betrayal.

As if something deep, something old, something beyond logic remembered her. As if the remnants of a thousand lifetimes whispered that she was supposed to be his, and watching her entertain someone else—even in the most innocent of ways—was enough to make his very soul wince.

It wasn’t just the wolf, which was alternating between snarls and whimpers throughout this whole ordeal—caught in a cycle of rage and longing, but his being felt it. 

Deep in his bones, in every hidden corner of his soul, in the spaces between every heartbeat—something in him recognized this loss. As if he had already lost her before. As if this pain wasn’t new, but rather an echo of something ancient, something he had been carrying far longer than this life alone.

And that realization? That was terrifying. Was he just… destined to lose her forever? Was this just a cycle that would repeat itself time and time again. Fate, or destiny or whatever really was cruel enough to dangle something good and something right in front of every version of himself just far enough out of reach to make him yearn but never to hold it. Never to have it. Never to have her. 

The room… was too suffocating. He could feel the walls of it closing in on him and he just… he needed to get out. The fight in him had drained at an alarming rate, if the way Sirius’ cocky mask slipped off immediately—he never had been good at seeing Remus fall apart. Sirius was a moron, yes, but he was also loyal to a fault. 

Remus needed to leave. He didn’t know where, didn’t care where, he just had to get out of there. 

And so he did, because if there was one thing Remus was good at, it was running. He didn’t say anything, didn’t offer an excuse or a reason or an admission or an admonishment to the question that was surely swimming in their minds. 

He let the door slam on his way out. 

And for a moment, as he stalked down the corridor, breath coming too fast, hands trembling at his sides—he let himself pretend that leaving would fix anything at all. He knew that it didn’t. He knew that the second he set foot back into that dorm room that he’d be bombarded with questions that he wasn’t ready to answer. 

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── 

He wasn’t paying attention to where he was walking, simply letting his legs lead him away from his dorm, from his friends who he knew were just trying to help him, even if some of them had questionable ways of going about it. 

He’d have to face them soon enough. As annoying as they were, as moronic as they could be, they never let him be alone for too long. He was grateful for them, most of the time anyway. Because before them, before James and Sirius and Peter, Remus had never really had friends. Not real ones. Not people who stayed—who knew what he was and chose to stand beside him anyway.

Right now though? Right now he just needed to breathe. Needed to be alone. Away from their knowing stares, away from the weight of unspoken words pressing against his ribs, away from the inescapable truth clawing at the back of his mind.

He didn’t look where he was headed, but he really should have. If Remus were in his right mind, he would have noticed the way the wolf had gone quiet—not completely, but enough that it should have set alarms blaring in his mind.

Because the wolf was never quiet. Not unless it was watching. Not unless it was waiting.

By the time Remus finally realized why—why that restless, aching presence inside him had settled, why his entire body suddenly felt aware in a way that made his skin prickle—it was already too late.

Because his body, when left on autopilot, did exactly what he feared it would—it searched for her. 

It had taken him right to her without him even realizing it, drawn by something deeper than thought, deeper than logic. His feet had carried him through the corridors, down the stairs, out into the open air, all without conscious direction.

And now, standing there, his breath caught in his throat, he saw her.

The wolf stirred, smug and satisfied, like this had been inevitable. Its silence had been deliberate, a quiet, calculated thing—hoping Remus wouldn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.

And he hadn’t.

He never thought the wolf could be clever, not in this way. He had always seen it as something raw, something instinctual—all hunger and violence, all want and need with no patience for restraint.

Remus allowed himself the moment to admire her. She was seated in the courtyard, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon light, chatting with her friends without a care in the world. Effortless. At ease. Completely unaware of the war raging inside him.

She was the kind of girl people waxed poetic about for hours on end—the kind who made even the most cynical believe in something bigger than themselves. There was something about her that demanded attention, not in an obvious way, but in a way that made the world seem brighter simply because she was in it. Looking at her made Sirius’ earlier words even more baffling. How could someone not notice her, he thought to himself. 

And Remus—despite everything, despite himself—couldn’t look away. Even before the earth-shattering moment all those weeks ago, he had felt it. Not nearly as strongly as now, but a faint trace of it. A pull, subtle but persistent, like a whisper at the edge of his mind. A quiet awareness that she was there, that she existed, that she mattered in a way he had never quite been able to explain.

All the signs had been there. Remus was keen on ignoring them and would continue to deny them vehemently if ever confronted, but part of him knew something was going on. If James had been in his shoes, Remus was certain that all the absurd theatrics he pulled in hopes of gaining Lily’s favor would have been even worse.

And that thought alone was enough to make him feel ill. Because the moment he started comparing himself to James bloody Potter—love-struck, hopeless, romantic James—was the moment he had to admit that he was already fucked.

He wondered if she would have liked that? Or if she would have called him a tosser and rolled her eyes in that way he’d seen her do a few times when someone said something impossibly stupid. He would bet on the latter. She wasn’t the type to be wooed by over-the-top dramatics or lovesick speeches. She was sharp, quick-witted, the kind of girl who saw through bullshit with unnerving ease.

And yet… he couldn’t help but wonder.

Would she have smiled at him, just a little? Would she have laughed—soft and real—and called him a tosser with a fond shake of her head? Would he have been able to pull a laugh from her like the one she had offered Sirius so freely just earlier that day? 

That got to him more than it should have. He wanted that.

He wanted to be the reason she laughed, the reason her eyes crinkled at the corners, the reason she tilted her head just so, amusement dancing across her face.

As if alerted of his presence through his gaze alone, she looked at him. He wasn’t exactly hiding but it still caught him off guard. It didn’t give him time to at least pretend he wasn’t looking at her. 

The confusion in her gaze was clear as day, it seemed to ask ‘were you looking for me? Or just happened to be here?’. 

Remus was sure his answering look might have come across as ‘I don’t know’. 

He had never felt so… seen. Like she saw through him completely—past his carefully crafted mask, past his own tendency to shrink himself so that no one looked too closely. It was a touch unnerving. Remus had spent years perfecting the art of going unnoticed, of keeping himself at just enough of a distance to avoid scrutiny. But with her?

With her, it was like none of that mattered. Like she could see right through him, through every layer of restraint, every excuse he told himself, every quiet, desperate thing he refused to name.

And the worst part?

She wasn’t looking away.

Most people, when confronted with someone blatantly staring at them, would at least break eye contact for a moment, but she didn’t. 

She was… odd. Not in a bad way, but just… weird. It was unnerving, how unaffected she seemed by it. How she met his gaze like she was waiting for something. Like she had already decided she wouldn’t be the first to look away. Not that he had any room to criticize. 

Remus was a pretty odd guy, werewolf thing aside. He read too much, spent too much time in his own head, and had a habit of analyzing things to the point of exhaustion; he preferred quiet corners to crowded rooms, found comfort in routine, and sometimes got so lost in thought that he forgot people were speaking to him.

So really, he had no right to call her odd.

But still… there was something about her. Something different. Something that made him feel like, for once, he was the one being studied instead of the other way around.

And for the life of him, he couldn’t decide if that terrified him or if he liked it.

Maybe being known wouldn’t be such a bad thing…

If it meant being known by her.

The thought was dangerous—reckless, even—but it settled in his chest before he could push it away. 

Remus was the first to look away. whatever this was—whatever strange, unspoken thing had been simmering between them—it was too much. Too intense. Too real.

So he did what he always did. What he had to do.

He looked away.

Unravel Me Masterlist

Taglist: @kitkatkl @boromoony

[pickledpascal]

The Way The Water Flows

Chapter Five: Nothing in the World Belongs to Me

Warnings: after-sex moments, reliving of trauma kinda, whump as hell, jealousy??? admitting of feelings without admitting their feelings

Word Count: 3k

The Way The Water Flows Masterlist

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For the first time in years, Maya wasn’t plagued by nightmares in her sleep. Her mind was blank, a dreamless sleep, which she preferred. Just black nothingness. She was comfortable, warm, and, well, wasn’t that what mattered?

But, it wouldn’t last. Nothing did.

Maya woke up, realizing the warmth was Logan’s body pressed against her back while one of his arms was slung over her hip. She could feel the exhale of each light snore on her neck. She pushed a hand up the side of her face, brushing her hair away from her eyes. She knew she needed to leave, as much as she wanted to stay.

She gathered her clothes from the floor, quietly putting them back on. Thankfully, it was still dark enough outside that no one would be awake at this hour. Maya looked back at Logan who seemed to be peacefully asleep and her heart wrenched slightly before she slipped out the door.

One week at a school for mutants and she already fucked a teacher. Maya didn’t regret it, though. She liked Logan. Even before meeting him, she had a feeling she would like him. The way some people described him—tall, dark, and handsome—it made her imagination run wild with interest. A simple curiosity that turned less and less innocent after being in the danger room with him.

To act on her feelings? God, what was she doing? No, no, no, this wasn’t regret. This was surprise. Even if Maya did find someone attractive, it was more of an acknowledgment, an appreciation, of their looks rather than a burning desire. Logan brought it out of her and Maya wasn’t sure how to feel. Should she feel deeper for him? Did she and she just didn’t know it? What was the soft feeling in her chest that bubbled over every time he kissed her? She couldn’t describe it, not the full extent of it. It was something she had never felt before. An emotion she couldn’t name.

It was so contrary to most emotions she felt. Anger, sadness, doubt, fear. It was just as intense… but on the opposite side of the spectrum.

Maya sat on her bed, brushing her hands through her hair as she took a deep breath. Despite everything, she could still feel human. Despite everything, she still felt the full range of emotions. Despite everything, she was going to love.

She let out a strangled laugh, a few tears forming in her eyes. This didn’t have anything to do with Logan anymore, even if he was the one she was in love with. No, it was about her. She had felt like nothing for so long. Undeserving of anything this world had to offer. That’s what the people who kept her wanted to feel. Like she was just a lab rat, to be tested on and contained until they got bored of her and disposed of her like they inevitably would.

Despite, despite, despite, she was still alive. Still her. Somewhere, deep inside her, was that little kid who loved starting snowball fights, who loved doodling everywhere, who loved learning, learning from her teachers in a poorly funded school, learning from her mother who taught her all she knew about her culture.

And maybe that was worth all the running. So that little girl could keep on living and resurface one day to experience proper joy when she was ready. To see that rainbow after the storm which was slowly suffocating her.

Maya threw off her clothes, getting down to her underwear and bra before she laid down on the bed. She looked up at the ceiling, her arms at her sides as if she were in a coffin, letting the feeling wash over her. She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes to revel in it. She wasn’t an experiment. She wasn’t some thing to be kept and contained and demeaned. She had a life. Now, she was determined to make a new one for herself.

Though, occasionally, she’d wonder what her parents were up to. Were they even alive? Did they try to look for her after she was taken? Were they happy? Or did they go through a downward spiral, ultimately causing a mental decline? Most people didn’t care about missing Indigenous women anyway, they would think her parents were especially crazy if they said the government had taken her.

Maya rolled onto her side as she tried to go back to sleep. She wondered how much of her culture she missed learning about. She always wanted to learn her language, even as a kid, but that ship sailed long ago.

Being stuck in the past sucked. The ache for a life that has never existed. The ache to experience things like a normal person. Maya was far from normal and it wasn’t something that could be changed or erased as much as she may have wanted it to be.

When sunlight eventually streamed in through the cracks of her blinds, waking Maya, she huffed softly as she pulled herself up to sit. She stood from the bed and walked over to the floor-length mirror in her room, taking in her appearance as if it were the first time again. From the strands of the hair sticking up from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

She had black hair but honestly forgot the slight hue of blue that appeared under certain light, and then the strand of a more vibrant blue that appeared on the nape of her neck sometime while being captive that never faded or went away.

The scars littered all over her body from various experiments made her heart twist but the three new ones on her arm filled her with a warmth she wasn’t expecting. They were scars, yes, but it wasn’t tied to any trauma. Logan wasn’t some violent man who took pleasure in the violence he committed. She could tell he had been through so much, lost so much. And he didn’t want to break his own heart again.

With a soft breath, she ran a hand up and down her stomach when it grumbled. She took one last look in the mirror, pursing her lips. She didn’t exactly look like anyone else in the mansion. A tall, built, Native American woman with scars littered all over her body. Of course, there were blue ‘monsters’ walking the halls but she still felt like an outsider.

Then there was the obvious age gap between her, the students, and the teachers. She sat right in the middle with no one around her age to properly talk with.

Maya shook her head from her thoughts, grabbing some clothes to put on. For a while, her style was practical, t-shirts, basic jeans, jackets, and some boots. That didn’t really change much but the school provided her with more clothes than before which she appreciated a lot more than what she could express.

She pulled on some simple sneakers and drew in a deep breath to prepare herself in case she had to interact with another person. She went downstairs carefully, glancing around to see if anyone was awake. There wasn’t. She stepped into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scanning the shelves for her options. She wasn’t the best cook but she was resourceful and knew a few basic recipes.

Maya settled on some eggs with frozen fish she found in the freezer. She chopped the fish into small strips and ate it raw with some soy sauce along with the scrambled eggs. Though she was pretty sure the fish was salmon, the meal tasted like home. Her mother would do the same thing with Arctic Char instead, though they tasted pretty similar so it didn’t matter too much in the long run.

While in the middle of shoving the last piece of soy sauce-drenched fish in her mouth, Rogue appeared in the kitchen. Maya quickly wiped her hands on a napkin, swallowing the food in her mouth.

She tried to greet the younger girl, “Hey.” Her voice ended up coming out flat.

“Hey, Maya!” Rogue smiled. The girl’s southern accent was especially apparent in the morning. “Have you seen Logan around this mornin’? I tried lookin’ for him in his room but he wasn’t there.” Her eyes were hopeful if a bit longing for some information about his whereabouts.

Maya swallowed thickly, feeling caught and jealous at the same time. A mix of feelings foreign to her. Logan wasn’t hers. And probably never would be but she felt as if she had this claim over him.

Eventually, she answered. “No, sorry. Haven’t seen him since yesterday.” She tried to keep her tone even but she wasn’t sure she accomplished that.

“Oh,” Rogue’s hope dimmed a little in her eyes. “Thank you, though.” She left the kitchen, scampering off to find someone else who might have a better idea of where Logan went.

Maya watched her leave, jaw clenching for a moment before she cleaned up her plate and left as well. She found herself at the library, trying to get her mind off the nagging feeling that Rogue had feelings for Logan as well.

She picked up a book she remembered reading when she was younger—a mystery novel about a little Canadian town on the border between Canada and America. It was a nice distraction for a little while since no child wanted to willingly spend their time in the library.

Of course, that wouldn’t last long. Charles made his way into the library, catching her attention as she looked above the edge of her book. “You’ve been in here for a while.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips. “And I only have to assume it’s not for the wide selection of books we have.”

Maya set her book down, knowing it was no use to try and ignore him. “Lots of things have happened in the last day or so.” She murmured, setting her forearms on the table she sat at. “I’m sure you already know that, though.”

Charles hummed in response, looking past Maya at the bookshelves behind her. He returned his gaze towards her after a few minutes. “You’re starting to care a lot about what people think of you. I think you’ll find not many care, or don’t care, in the ways you think they do. They might surprise you.”

Maya looked down at her hands, knowing he must be talking about Rogue. Or Logan. Or Rogue and Logan. She rubbed her thumb over a small freckle on her knuckle. All these new experiences were overwhelming but she was taking it in stride.

“Maybe you should talk to him.” Charles urged softly, tilting his head as his eyebrows furrowed. He cared about Maya in a way he hadn’t cared for a new student for quite some time, perhaps since Jean.

Maya looked up at Charles, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “I can’t really talk about my feelings that easily, Xavier.”

“Now is a better time than never, is it not?” He pressed. “You would feel a lot better after just getting it out. Next time it will be a lot easier.” Charles left her with that, letting her stew in her thoughts.

Maya slipped out of the library and made her way back out into the back courtyard. All this emotional turmoil was getting to her and she needed to let it out on something that was not near the mansion or inside it. So she took a small walk into the woods behind the mansion.

When she deemed herself to be far enough away, she took a deep breath. Her hands met as she exhaled the breath, keeping herself center as her stance widened. Her hands lifted, taking out all the water within the grass beneath her, leaving it dead. Her fingers flexed which turned the multiple droplets into a single, thin line.

It was all she needed to slice into the woods around her, leaving a deep indent or two into each tree she passed. No, she didn’t plan on taking Charles’ advice. Not soon, anyway. Beating the frustration out of her was all she needed. With each battle cry and grunt, the tension slowly left her shoulders until she collapsed to her knees. She caught herself with her hands, bracing herself against the dirt.

She forgot that even a “normal” life contained the bad emotions she tried so hard to leave behind. Anger and sadness. But nothing felt quite like this. The flare of jealousy turned to anger. But it wasn’t at Rogue, it was at herself. The sadness that welled in her chest because she knew Logan could never feel the same. Could never admit it if he did.

Regret still wasn’t something she felt. She couldn’t. Maybe this crush would go away and she’d move on with her life, thinking of last night as just a good experience. A part of her hoped that would happen but knew it wouldn’t.

Maya picked herself up from the ground, dusting off her knees before she walked back to the mansion with her hands in her pockets. The sun was setting by the time she got back. She noticed Logan was outside, smoking a cigar.

She took a breath as she walked up the steps to the back porch. He noticed her immediately like she thought he would. “You get jumped?” Logan asked as he took the cigar from his mouth, smoke expelling from his lips.

“No, uh,” Maya glanced down at herself. She knew there was some dirt on her pant legs but she didn’t think it was that bad. “Needed to take a walk. Lot on my mind.” She said honestly.

Logan stepped closer to her, eyes softening as he put his cigar back in his mouth. “Look, I’m sor—”

“It’s not about you.” Maya cut him off, looking away from Logan as she crossed her arms over her chest. Charles’ words were echoing in her mind. “Well, it is about you. But not all of it. I just—” She didn’t want to say the word. “I care about you a lot. And I haven’t cared about someone in this way ever. It’s scary. I haven’t been anything more than a weapon for years and I missed out on so much.”

Logan let out a breath from his nose, stomping out his cigar. He hooked a finger under Maya’s jaw, coaxing her to look at him. “I know what that’s like.”

Maya looked into his eyes, realizing he was telling the truth. Mutant experimentation wasn’t that rare, but it was rare for her to connect to someone so deeply who had gone through the same things she had.

He pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her waist while his other hand cradled the back of her head. “I care about you too, sweetheart. I know I suck at expressing it. But I do. And it scares me too ‘cause I—” His voice broke slightly. “The last person I let myself have ended up dead.”

Maya pursed her lips as her heart ached for him. She pulled away from his arms just enough to see his face, his eyes, and the hurt in them. “I won’t end up like them.” She told him, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. He involuntarily leaned into the touch. “I’d crawl out of every grave just to see you.” And she meant it. She was determined to live, no matter what. To experience all the ugly and beautiful things her life had to offer.

“You’re too good for me,” Logan whispered, eyes flitting over her face to commit it to memory. “I could never give you… what you want. Peace.”

Maya let out a small laugh. “Maybe not. But it might come anyway,” Her thumb caressed over his cheekbone. “In a way you or I won’t expect.”

Logan let out a weak, small noise before he pressed his forehead against hers. He closed his eyes, relishing in her touch and the gentleness of which she cradled his face. Warmth washed over him even though her hands were cold, his chest swelling with a feeling he hadn’t experienced for years. Maybe decades at this point.

“Have I met you before?” Logan asked softly, desperate for some sort of explanation as to why he felt this way. Why she felt this way.

Why didn’t she become scared of him after he hurt her? Why was she so determined to break down his walls? And why did she stay? Why did she choose him, out of all people? Jean had feelings of some sort for him but she always thought of him as the dangerous guy that would only ever be a second choice.

Why was he Maya’s first?

Maya tilted her head, a soft smile on her face. “Maybe in a previous life.”

Charles was right. As he always was. Logan cared so much for Maya. So much that she could tell he was trying to let her in, to let her see what was beneath that rough surface. She adored him for it. He might never say the “L” word but, right now, this was enough. It was so much more than she expected.

Logan chuckled softly before capturing her lips in a kiss, sliding a hand to tangle in her hair. A little more experienced in the area now, Maya deepened the kiss as she placed a hand on his hip to keep him close. She wanted to pour every single emotion she was feeling into it and, damn, it worked. It worked so well that it made Logan dizzy.

“Shit, sweetheart.” Logan broke the kiss to breathe but Maya immediately started to attack his neck, leaving little love bites that would go away mere seconds after appearing on his skin. He could still feel every last scrape of her teeth. “Ah, fuck—” He hissed.

Maya pulled away from his neck with a smug look in her eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asked, stepping back to put a little distance between them.

For a few seconds, he couldn’t think. He got there eventually. “Yeah, yeah,” Logan knew he must have flustered cheeks and widened pupils. “Tomorrow. Promise.” He nodded.

“I look forward to it.” Maya looked him up and down before she retreated into the mansion.

God, he needed another cigar.

[labyrinthinesyndicatex]

She couldn’t deny the thrill of it - his ferocity, the way he’d claimed every inch of her with a need that felt almost desperate. It fed something deep in her, a part of her she rarely acknowledged, a craving to be wanted with that kind of unhinged passion. But damn, it unsettled her too. Why did she keep letting this happen? Not just the act, but the way it lingered in her mind, replaying his rasped words, the grip of his hands, the sheer power of him driving into her. She hated admitting it - even to herself - but she reveled in being the storm he couldn’t resist. There was a twisted pride in that, a quiet victory in knowing she could match his fire, even if it meant losing herself for a while. Still, a bitter edge crept in. Was this just a game to her, a distraction from the mess of her life? Or worse, was she starting to need it - need him - in a way that went beyond control? No, scratch that. She couldn’t afford to think like that. This was just physical, a release, nothing more. And yet, as the thought looped, she couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that she was lying to herself, building a flimsy excuse to avoid the deeper truth lurking somewhere in the shadows of her mind.

Hours later, with the heat of their earlier rounds still clinging to her skin, Elisa felt the weight of Nox’s arm over her waist, a casual possession that both irritated and comforted her in equal measure. His words cut through the quiet, that smirk in his tone poking at her like a dare. “Feels like you don’t want this arrangement to end, yeah?” She turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a practiced steadiness she didn’t entirely feel. “Don’t get too comfortable, Nox ... this will end someday. I’m serious.” Her voice held firm, no room for debate, a clear boundary drawn in the sand. But inside, the ground wasn’t so solid. Was she serious? She used to be - hell, she’d started this as a way to keep him at arm’s length, to control the chaos he brought into her life. A year ago, when she’d housed him at Waypoint Haven, saving his skin, she’d never imagined it would come to this. Now, though, the lines were blurring. She didn’t know anymore if she could just walk away, not when every encounter left her raw, exposed, and strangely whole in a way she hadn’t felt in years. Not since before the divorce, before the safe houses, before the weight of every name she carried in her memory. She bit back a scoff at herself - what a mess, getting tangled up in feelings she didn’t have time for. But still, a small, reckless part of her wondered how long she could keep pretending this was just an arrangement. Turning the thought over, she added with a dry edge, “Unless you’ve got something else to say about it ... I’m listening.” There it was, an opening, a challenge tossed back to him, while internally she braced for whatever might come next.

Nox felt the wild heat of Elisa beneath him, her pussy gripping his cock so tight it was almost unbearable, each ruthless thrust sending a jolt through his core that he couldn’t ignore. She was a storm, all fury and need, and as he pounded into her with a ferocity that bordered on feral, he couldn’t help but revel in the way she shattered under him. “That’s it, love, take every fuckin’ inch of me,” he rasped, voice dripping with raw hunger, his hands pinning her wrists above her head as he drove deeper, harder, not giving a damn about anything but the way she writhed. Was he too far gone in this? Probably, but fuck it, how could he stop when she was trembling like that, when every moan felt like a bloody trophy? Honestly, he hadn’t felt this alive in years, not with anyone, and the thought flickered through his mind—did she even know what she did to him?

“Fuck, you’re gonna come again, aren’t ya? Do it, scream for me,” he growled, his pace merciless, hips slamming against hers until her body arched and she broke, a cry tearing from her lips as her climax hit, dragging him right over the edge with her. His own release ripped through him, the best he’d ever had in his forty-one years, a white-hot rush that left him gasping, spilling into her with a groan that sounded more animal than man. Christ, what was that? He couldn’t even think straight, not with aftershocks still buzzing through him.

Hours later, after they’d gone a few more rounds, he lay beside her, skin still slick with sweat, his arm draped lazily over her waist. “Feels like you don’t want this arrangement to end, yeah?” he murmured, a smirk in his voice, wondering if she’d bite back or let the truth slip for once.

[noxturnallyevermore]

saw a tag that said "No Beta - We Die Like Steve Harrington's Heterosexuality"

and my immediate reaction was "steve's heterosexuality died in s1" so.... fair

was he ever even heterosexual or was it just the script what was heteronormative? cause looking back at it, joe keery never played this man as straight

I'm telling you rn, look at his interactions with tommy and jonathan

steve is a whole fruit, the closet is made of glass people

[justanotherstarlightmonger]

Helsinki Chapter 7: Pajamas.

Helsinki syndrome is a term sometimes used incorrectly in place of Stockholm syndrome. It’s use in literature is often ironic and deliberate and literally means when a captive refuses to cooperate with their captor.

Summary: A war of wits does have some rules too. But if one party refuses to acknowledge the sacred rule of leaving family out of it, the other must retaliate stronger to quell any such advances for the future… Or at least that’s what Min Yoongi told himself when he abducted Kim Namjoon’s younger sister. That was before he realized that this elaborate game of chess didn’t have just two players and before he had promised Namjoon he’d keep her safe, But also before he realized that one month was enough to leave his whole life in chaos.

Genre: MAFIA AU, slight yandere themes, smut, a happy sprinkling of fluff/comfort, and a truckload of ANGST.

WARNINGS: None (◔‿◔)

Pairing: Main pairing: Mafia!MIN YOONGI X READER

Others include: Collegeboyfriend!Hosoek x reader + Mafia!Taehyung x reader + Kidnapper!Seokjin x reader.

Word count: 2.4k words

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Thunder peeled loudly and Taehyung sat up in his bed. It was a brutal storm. He could hear the harsh rain falling heavily outside and once in a while another weak streak of lightning would light his room.

The house was very silent, but that was to be expected at 3 in the morning. Still, an uneasy feeling sat in his stomach that urged him to get up and check on the residents. Was his brother even home? He wasn't sure. And he sure as hell, wasn't sweating about your safety, but he still found himself swinging his legs off the bed and standing up, reaching to turn on the bedside lamps.

That's when a lone figure caught his attention outside. His eyes widened as he took another step to confirm what he was seeing. Sure enough, you stood in the pouring rain outside, eyes closed and shoulders hunched.

His feet were taking him outside and downstairs before his mind had caught up. Somewhere along the way he had picked up a spare t shirt lying on the rug at the foot of his bed and had picked up an umbrella from the basket at the foot of the stairs.

He threw open the front door, the howling wind screaming in his ears as he opened the umbrella against the force of nature that seemed determined to wash away everything in it's path.

"Hey!!" He called out to you, well aware that his voice was being drowned by the wind.

Cursing under his breath, he dashed out into the garden, holding the umbrella above his head and the dry t shirt safe under his arm.

The pounding rain suddenly stopped, and you gasped, opening your eyes to see a tall figure towering over you, holding a dark umbrella in his hand and shooting you what was probably a disapproving look, but you couldn’t be so sure in the dark.

“Do you want to get sick?” the deep voice asked you.

Oh, so it was the brother. You shrugged. “Does it matter?” you asked softly, sure that your voice would be lost in the pitter patter of the rain falling on the umbrella.

“What happened?” he sounded concerned. You looked up at him, your eyes incredibly heavy from lack of sleep and all the crying.

“What makes you think I’ll tell you?”

Taehyung tsked. He couldn’t believe this.

“Ok, don’t tell me, but at least let me take you inside?”

You considered it for a moment before nodding once.

Sighing in relief, he stepped to the side, letting you take the lead as he silently followed, making sure you weren’t getting any more wet.

Dripping in the entrance hallway, you sighed in relief at the warmth inside the house. But as soon as Taehyung closed the umbrella, leaning it against the door to let the water drip, you felt the bile rise back in your throat.

“Um... I know you don’t want to tell me what the fuck happened to warrant you sobbing in the garden at 3 am, but I would like it if you told me. Maybe I can fix it.” you heard from behind you.

You whipped around, shocked at the audacity. “You’ll fix it? You think you can fix it? Why does every man in this house have a fucked up savior complex? No one under this roof especially can fix anything for me. All you can do is mess it up even more, so don’t even bother.” You unknowingly shoved the shoulder that was close to you in anger.

That was a mistake. Searing pain shot through Taehyung and in a second, he was hissing and holding his upper arm, eyes closed and face scrunched in pain.

“Oh God, I’m sorry.” immediately whatever anger you had was draining away, heart tugging at the sight of the genuine pain the man seemed to be in, “Oh no, what did I do?” you looked around frantically, but of course no one else was awake. “Hey, dude... Mister... I’m so sorry, are you okay?” you fussed. Oh how the turn tables.

“My name’s Taehyung.” came the grunt from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t help it, you giggled. He shot you a scandalized look.

“I’m sorry, you’re in so much pain and the first thing you tell me is your name?” you said, holding back a laugh.

Taehyung straightened, his hand still holding his arm, but the pain quickly dissipating from his face, replaced by a tight lipped smile, “Well, when an annoying little girl calls you dude mister, you have to take drastic measures.”

You scoffed. “What happened to you anyways?”

“You tell me and I’ll you.” He shrugged.

“Ugh... ok but I’m guessing I’ll have to go change first?”

That’s when Taehyung voiced another thing that has been bugging him, “Hasn’t Yoongi hyung bought you any clothes? Why do I always see you in your pajamas?”

Now, you laughed.

“What?” he sounded offended.

“No, he offered to buy me clothes, I just don’t want them.”

“Is it a comfort thing?”

“It’s a ‘I-won’t-be-indebted-to-my-kidnapper’ thing.”

“Counterintuitive. You’re already wearing pajamas he bought you.”

Who was this smarty pants? You rolled your eyes.

“I can take you shopping tomorrow if that’s what you’d like.” he offered.

You raised your eyebrows. Not this again. You turned away, making your way to the stairs, “I’ll be back.” you called over your shoulder, leaving Taehyung standing in the hallway, still clutching the t shirt he had brought for you, and his mind buzzing with a strange emotion the interaction elicited.

And soon enough Taehyung was rolling his eyes as you appeared in a fresh set of maroon silk pajamas, jumping over the last two stairs and landing in front of Taehyung, confusing him with your happy disposition. As if he hadn’t just brought you in from crying in a thunderstorm at 3 am?

Deciding he wasn’t going to question it, he tilted his head and made his way to the drawing room, mumbling a tiny, “For the love of…”

Both of you sat on the soft rug next to the coffee table and without wasting a second extra, Taehyung was asking you, “So…what happened?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, you tell me first.”

“Ladies first,” the baritone voice stated, no room for argument. Suddenly whatever mysterious happy disposition you had, drained away. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“So…Yoongi called my brother.” you said lowly.

“Oh.”

You nodded.

“It was bound to happen at some point,” he said calmly.

“Well, yes but wouldn’t you think my brother would have at least put up a fight? Would’ve at least fought for me?” your voice got hoarse.

“He didn’t?” Taehyung probed.

You shook your head dejectedly.

Taehyung’s hand found your fingers fleetingly. You pulled your hand away, not exactly disgusted, but opposed to his warm fingers closing around your cold ones.

“I find that a little hard to believe though.” he said, unfazed by your rejection.

You shrugged, aware that your words would fail you. “He agreed to Yoongi’s terms. He agreed to me staying here for a whole month. He agreed to let all the shipments pass.” you whispered.

A strange sense of relief washed over Taehyung, the businessman in him taking the forefront for some moments. The shipments would pass unhindered? If Kim Namjoon had agreed, it would decrease a lot of work to be done on Taehyung’s end. He missed the way you looked up at him, to gouge his reaction, to see the way his expression softened and the slightest curve of his lip upwards.

That solidified your belief that at the end of the day, everyone here was in it for something for themselves. No one here held any sympathy for you. You looked away, heart hurting so much that you thought you wouldn’t be able to take the next breath.

But the thing was, you didn’t want to be alone in your room tonight. You didn’t want your thoughts to occupy your attention. You didn’t want nightmares to wreck your brain. And despicable as he was, Taehyung was company. Company you desperately needed.

“So what about you?” you nodded to the bandages on his arm.

“Well, your brother shot me a couple of days ago.”

What the fuck? Could Namjoon’s image shatter more in one night?

"He what?" You asked, though you had heard loud and clear.

Taehyung nodded. "It's not something that bothers me much anymore. At the end of the day, gunfights are an occurrence I come across more often than I'd like to."

"Because of…"

" My line of work." Taehyung smirked.

" Right, that." You scoffed, aghast at the way that he seemed to see nothing wrong with that. " What is your line of work exactly?"

" You don't need to know that sweetheart" the sudden coldness in his quipped answer gave you whiplash, and immediately you were reminded of the fact that at the end of the day, he was a Mafia member.

An argument lingered on the tip of your tongue for a full minute, it was a visible struggle to hold your tongue, before you shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t.” you said.

Taehyung was endeared by you, he had to admit. You had a curious glint in your eyes and a rebellious streak in your mannerisms. He felt that you didn’t like taking orders, and that made your current problem an even bigger pain in the ass for you.

“So, what do you do when you’re not moping in your room all day?” he asked.

“Excuse you?” you gasped. You had hardly moped in your room, in fact you had spent more time out in the garden, with a certain, rather unwanted visitor today. “I like the garden. It’s the only place here that doesn’t make me want to murder someone.”

A deep laugh left Taehyung, the sound rumbling richly in his chest and echoing in the silence of the house. It sent thrills up your spine due to how easy and rich it sounded. “I’d like to see you try and murder someone here.”

A giggle left you, despite yourself, the air easing almost immediately.

“I like the garden too.” he conceded, “I had Shanghai’s best horticulturists design it, because I wanted it to be a respite for me whenever I came here.”

This was the first time someone had told you something without you prompting it. Something that they told you, simply because they wanted you to know. Somehow, that made you feel better about the whole situation. A strange wave of emotion came over you. You smiled warmly at Taehyung. “They did well.” you said softly, your reservations crumbling.

And that’s how Mrs. Fen and Yoongi found you and Taehyung the next morning, leaning against the couch, feet resting on the coffee table, a leisurely, companionable air surrounding you and occasional laughter leaving your bubble as you both talked about many things that were miraculously common in your polarly opposite lives.

But where Mrs. Fen smiled and brought both of you some juice until she got breakfast ready, Yoongi only silently observed, and unknowingly frowned, a small pout forming on his lips as he made his way to the dining room.

Something seemed to be bugging Yoongi when you took your seat at the table, the wonderful homely array of breakfast side dishes greeting you and making you hungry. You couldn’t figure out exactly what it was, because you barely knew the man, how were you supposed to know what bugged him, Taehyung on the other hand, recognized the subtle signs of grumpiness. The silence that was heavier than usual, the way Yoongi refused to meet his gaze and the untouched newspaper next to his plate as he scoffed down his food, determined to just leave the table as soon as possible.

But why? Especially if this had anything to do with him and Y/n. Because hadn’t Yoongi been the one to make her cry last night? All Taehyung did was fix Yoongi’s mess, as he always did. Taehyung rolled his eyes. His older brother really needed a reality check sometimes. He cleared his throat.

“Hyung, I’m taking y/n shopping for some clothes later.” it was just a heads-up. Taehyung was long past asking permission. Yoongi’s spoon froze in the air for a millisecond, before he collected himself and shot Taehyung an icy glare. Yup, that confirmed his suspicions, Yoongi was definitely mad at him.

You, on the other hand, were only staring at him, confusion etched onto your face. You hadn’t agreed to anything like that. Annoyance stirred in your stomach at the audacity, and you questioned whether you had made a wrong decision, getting closer to Taehyung.

“You can take her, if she agrees to go.” Yoongi’s answer was simple but firm. He knew you had outright refused to let him take you shopping, so either you had grown immeasurably close to Taehyung over the course of a single night (his stomach churned at the thought), or Taehyung was saying it just for the sake of saying it, not having run the idea across you first. Yoongi strongly suspected it was the second option.

Plus, the fact that making you agree would be a challenge he’d love to have his beloved little brother take on.

Consent was sexy. It always had been in your book. And this right here, the cold nonchalance while giving that order, as if it should have been understood from the get-go, did many things for you. A shy blush crept up to your cheeks, and you almost smiled at Yoongi. Almost. Until you remembered the cold feel of the gun pressing into your stomach last night and suddenly you felt sick again, and the food didn’t look that appetizing anymore.

“Of course she’ll agree, Right y/n?” Taehyung asked you cheerfully, his mouth full and lips pouting. You found yourself nodding at him, before the sensible part of your brain told you what a stupid idea that was.

“See?” Taehyung said, satisfied. Yoongi shot you a betrayed look and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. What possessed you to say yes? The idea that anywhere was better than here? Mayhaps. Especially if Yoongi was going to be home the whole day. Suddenly spending the day with Taehyung, and getting a couple of dresses, didn’t sound so bad. After all, you had been getting fed up with the repetitive solid color pajama sets in your wardrobe.

A/n: Thank you all so much for reading! Be sure to let me know what you think and how I can improve (✿^‿^)

[darkmulti]

(Yandere and non con warning)

Def not the only one who wants a 18th century h.c of possessive and controlling, husband!Jungkook x forced wife!reader. Jungkook gets jealous after witnessing another man asking you out and when you come back home at night, he breeds you. Please make it rough and non con. Thank you❤️‍🔥

-> you’re definitely not the only one. I can assure you that I’ve thought about this too many times😫

⚠️: NON CON, YANDERE!JUNGKOOK, Squirting/piss play, Physically, mental and emotional abuse, spit play,

-> sorry for any mistakes

Your parents owned a local bakery store

All the recipes were from your late grandmother

You spent almost all of your time there because you were in charge of everything

The store was under your parents’ name but you were the one running it

Sometimes, you even slept there because it’d be too late to walk home

Your dedication to the bakery made it successful

Although, you were the one doing all the work, you parents took all the credit and money

They weren’t paying you because you’re their child

They don’t need to pay you

“It’s a women’s place.” Your father said

You wanted to go back to school however, your parents laughed in your face

“School aren’t for girls, Y/N. Learn how to cook and clean. That’s all you need to know. Let the men handle everything else.”

You were tired of fighting with them and eventually stopped because they threatened to set you up in an arrange marriage

Now, it was just you and the bakery

You had many loyal customers and recently, one has been coming everyday, at the same time

He’d always buy a loaf of banana bread and if he was in a good mood, a blueberry muffin as well

Then, he’d sit in the corner table and eat two - three slices before getting up and leaving

He’d always leave a tip behind and you always kept it for yourself

One day, he didn’t come and you were surprised

For a year straight, he came and bought the same two things

Now, he hasn’t visited in 4 days

Tonight, you came back home for the first time in a while

Your parents had visited the bakery to collect “their” earnings and told you that you have to go somewhere with them that evening

After closing up and cleaning up, you went home and got ready

Your parents were taking you out for dinner as a treat for all your hard work

You were really excited because they were finally acknowledging your hard work

Once you arrived at the restaurant, your parents lead you to a table that already had three people seated

You immediately recognize one of them

It’s that guy who buys your banana loaf!

You sat in front of him while your parents greeted the two other strangers

“Oh, so this is your daughter? She’s gorgeous! Come here and give me a hug.”

You awkwardly chuckled and got up to hug the middle aged women

“Oh! Where are my manners? My name is Jeon F/N, this is my husband, Jeon F/N and this is our son, Jeon Jungkook. We’re your soon to be in laws!”

You heart dropped to the floor

“I-in laws?” You asked, confused

“Yeah, honey. Is this your first time hearing about this? We’ve been talking to your parents for a while now.”

You snapped your head towards you parents and they looked emotionless

“No, no they didn’t tell me anything.”

Dinner with them was hell

Your parents were talking about your wedding arrangements right in front of you

You didn’t know what to do

You wanted to rebel but then your parents would disown you

Just like that, you’d be homeless with little money to survive

In the end, you’d be paying the heavy price

You looked at Jungkook who was staring at you the whole time

You wondered if he knew about this

Maybe, that’s why he came to the bakery everyday

“Did you know anything about this?” You said loud enough for him to hear

“I did.”

“For how long?”

“Since last year.”

You eyes widen, in shock

You were right!

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“Why would I stop it when I’m the one who wants it?”

You scrunch your eyebrows, in confusion

“What’re you talking about?”

“Since the first day I met you, I wanted to marry you. I told my parents and now, we’re getting married.”

Now, you were mad

You got up and stormed off, catching everyone’s attention

You walked to the bakery and locked yourself in

Here, you thought your parents were acknowledging you for first time, when they were actually setting you up for a marriage so they don’t have to take care of you

You cried yourself to sleep that night

The next couple of weeks, the bakery was closed due to your wedding

The wedding was spectacular

You would’ve love it if you weren’t being forced into a marriage

After the wedding, Jungkook took your precious virginity

He made sure to pleasure you until you passed out

He was so in love with you

Now, he was finally able to show you how much he loved you

And mark you as his

The next couple of months, he was attached to you

He took over his family’s business and you took over your family’s business

He’d visit you every day at work to check if you’re with another man

He was so paranoid about it, sometimes he���d come by 3 or 4 times to make sure you were not cheating

You thought he missed you and that’s why he kept stopping by (which is half true) however, you had no idea that he was possessive and controlling

You had to learn the hard way

Sometimes, you wouldn’t leave work until midnight

You had so much things to do like preparing for the next day, making a to-do list, making a grocery lists, and cleaning every area of the shop

It’s time consuming, so obviously you finish up pretty late

Jungkook absolutely hates that

Although you stay late in the shop once in a while, he can’t stand it

He wants you to be in his arms every night

Jungkook gets angry when you’re not

This was your fourth time staying out late in the shop and he’s had enough

He couldn’t help but feel paranoid about what you were actually doing in the shop

What if you lied and went on a date with another man?

What if you were running away from him?

Or even worse, what if you were having sex with another guy?

He raced to the bakery and banged on the door, which scared you

You saw that it was him and let him in

“W-what’s wrong?! You scared me!”

“Grab your stuff, we’re going home.”

“But I’m not done yet! I only have a couple more things to do and then I’ll come home. I told you already-”

“I don’t think you fucking heard me!” He yelled and grabbed your hair

“Grab your shit, we are leaving right now.”

He pushed you towards the counter and crossed his arms

You let your breath out in shock but scurry to get your stuff

You’ve never seen him like this and it terrified you

“I have my stuff.”

“Good, let’s go.”

He helped you lock the door and wrapped his arm around your waist

The walk home was silent

You were scared shitless

All you wanted to do was run back into your parents’ house

But he didn’t let you move an inch away from him

Once you got home, he started pushing you around and arguing some more

“Jungkook, I told you this afternoon when you came to visit! I said I have to stay late so I don’t have to stress myself out in the morning!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! Who were you fucking seeing?!” He screamed, frightening you more

“No one! I swear, no one!” You whimpered

He corned you into your shared room and locked the door

“Jungkook, I swear! Nothing happened!”

He didn’t believe a single word coming out of your mouth

It was like you were talking to a wall

He pushed you onto the bed and stripped you naked

Jungkook pushed two fingers into your cunt and pretended to scoop out cum

“If nothing happened, why is your cunt full of cum?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I didn’t have sex with anyone!”

You weren’t very educated about sex, so Jungkook had an advantage

You began apologizing even though you didn’t have sex with anyone

You just wanted peace between you two

“I’m sorry! I didn’t cheat or anything, but I’m sorry if it hurt you! I really am!”

Jungkook slapped you and spat on your face

“Dirty slut. Telling me that you’re not cheating but still apologizing.”

“No! Please, I didn’t do anything!”

Jungkook pulled his cock out and shoved it in without warning

You were still new to sex so when he didn’t let you adjust, you automatically started screaming and crying

“Please, slower!” You cried, holding onto his biceps as he went faster and deeper

“Stop! Please!”

Jungkook loved the sound of his balls clapping against your ass

It honestly made him harder

All night, he was on top, fucking you hard

Your legs were spread apart, tears in your eyes and sweat dripping down your forehead

You looked like a hot mess

And he loved every second of it

“Mmh- Jungkook!”

You squirted around him and had a trembling orgasm

You couldn’t stop releasing your liquids on him and he couldn’t stop pounding you

The bed sheet was soaked by the end of it

He pushed his cock deep inside and came

After Jungkook fell asleep, you cried for while

How were you supposed to tolerate him for the rest of your life?

The next morning

You woke up in severe pain

You lower region was begging for some pain relief

But there was nothing you could do about it

Jungkook was still sleeping next to you

You decided to leave before he wakes up

After getting ready by leaning on everything, you slowly walked to town

When you arrived at the bakery, you saw a big “for sale” sign

You panicked and went inside the store, only to be greeted by your parents

“Mother, father! Why is there a “for sale” sign on the bakery?”

You parents looked at each other in disappointment

“You see, we have to explain the obvious to your daughter. Be grateful that someone willingly married your idiot daughter.” Your father said before walking out

His words did hurt but you cared about the bakery more than your father

“Why’re you selling it, mother? Can you not afford it anymore? Why-”

“Shut up, Y/N! You’re married now, you have wifely duties. You don’t have time for this bakery so the best option is to sell it.”

Your world fell apart right before your eyes

“But mother-”

“Save it. You already made your father upset. I’m warning you now, you don’t want to get on my bad side.”

You cried the whole morning

After you opened the bakery, lots of people gathered in line

All breads, cakes and muffins were going on sale

After you served the people in line, you went up to the tables and took their order

After you served them, a regular customer who was sitting alone gestured you to come over

You went over to the man and asked him if he needed anything

He told you to take a seat and accompany him

Since the crowd died down, you sat down in front of him

“You look a bit stressed and sad. What’s on your mind?”

You were touched by his words

Finally, someone cared about you

You told him you were upset about the bakery closing

He understood and even offered money to help you keep it open

You were flattered but didn’t accept the money

“Money’s not a problem, my parents just don’t want to keep this shop open.”

You talked with this guy for a couple of hours

Although this was your first time talking to him, you talked to him like he was your best friend

When closing time came around, he got up and asked you out on a date

You didn’t know what to do

You were married but you really liked this guy

You were considering saying yes when someone pulled his shoulder back and punched him across the face

“Jungkook! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You think I didn’t see that?! I saw it all. I saw you flirting with my wife for three hours straight and then asking her out on a date!”

Jungkook beat the crap out of the guy and pushed him outside

He then came back in the store, looking at you with devil eyes

“Yesterday’s punishment clearly wasn’t enough.”

The entire way home, he was yelling at you, slapping you, spitting on you, pulling your hair, pushing you to the ground and choking you

You were crying the whole time, apologizing over and over

When you arrived home, he seriously had no mercy on you

No foreplay, no lube, no adjusting

Just a raw, thick cock being forced into you

You were begging him to let you go but tonight, nothing was going to stop him

He was moving his hips insanely fast, not giving you enough time to breathe

You were choking on your own sobs

“Jungkook, please no! I’m sorry!”

“Why did you hesitate to deny his offer? You are a married fucking women!” With each word a hard thrust followed, knocking all the air out of you

“Answer me! Is he better than me? Does he take care of you? Does he provide money for you? TELL ME!” He was yelling so loudly, it was making you cry harder

“N-no, he doesn’t. He was just the first person to care about me.” You whispered the last sentence but, Jungkook was able to make it out

“Are you saying that I don’t care about you?”

He got more aggressive and fastened his pace

“Tell me, Y/N! Do you think that I don’t care about you?!”

You couldn’t answer him because you couldn’t catch your breath

He was going too fast and you were crying so hard, you couldn’t breathe

Jungkook noticed how much you were struggling and added onto your struggle by holding your neck down

“Apologize, right now Jeon Y/N!”

You softly apologize but it wasn’t good enough for him

He lifted your legs a little, giving him better access and fucked you till you squirted

This time you sobbed your apology and begged for forgiveness

“I’m so sorry, Jungkook! It’ll never— ah! It’ll never happen again! I’m so sorry! Please for- forgive me for my dumb m-mistake. Please! I’m begging you.” You held onto the bed sheet, praying he would stop

He huskily growled and pushed his cock in deep

“For the next 9 months you’ll be swelling with my baby. Now, everyone can back off.”

He shot his hot cum right into you, filling you up to the rim

Sorry for any mistakes. It’s 3:41am 😄

[citrusdarling7]

jealously

summary- Tom Riddle becomes jealous of reader’s boyfriend and decides to take matters into his own hands

warnings- smut, cheating, degrading, edging, and a bit of light choking. dom! tom, sub! reader

🗡—————————————————————🗡

I’ve never been much of a morning person, but for some reason I was up early today. I knew that I had a potions essay due tomorrow, and I was behind on it. Still in my silky nightgown, I assumed no one else would be in the common room. To my surprise, Abraxas was sitting in front of the fireplace. I smiled and tip-toed over to him, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind him. He squeezed one of my hands gently, acknowledging my presence.

“Darling, why are you up? It’s barely 5 am,” he told me softly. I rolled my eyes and swiveled around the couch so I could sit down next to him.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Malfoy. Oh my God, what happened to your face?” Even in the dim lighting of the Slytherin common room, I could see the dark purple bruises around one of his eyes. I gently reached up to try and touch him, but he turned his face to the side.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it. Did you sleep well?” He tried to change the subject, but I didn’t let up.

“Brax, what the hell happened? Please tell me that the other guy looks worse,” I said while positioning myself closer to him. I gently ran a finger along his jawline in a comforting gesture. I could smell his sage wood cologne, which I absolutely adored.

“Truthfully darling, I think I’m lucky I walked away without him cursing me. He was absolutely livid after you left.”

Of course. I was such an idiot. Tom had done this to him.

Late last night, Abraxas and I were kissing in the corridor when we decided we wanted to go somewhere more private. Abraxas knows how to find the Room of Requirement, and he dragged me inside, still kissing my neck and holding onto my waist. Unfortunately for us, all of the other 6th year Slytherin boys were already there, brewing some type of illegal potion. Not only had Abraxas forgotten he was supposed to meet with them that night, but he had also exposed me to what was happening.

Although some people would believe so, I’m not naive to what goes on in this school. I know about Tom and his pursuits in dark magic. I know about their constant fights with those Gryffindors who all wear that one lion pin. But Tom seemed to believe that I had no prior knowledge of these secret meetings, and he instantly started yelling at us.

“Malfoy, you idiot! You are not supposed to bring back girls to this room, and certainly not when we’re in the middle of illicit activities!”

Rosier and Avery were still sitting by the cauldron, doing nothing to help the situation. I stepped away from Abraxas and turned towards Tom.

“Calm down, Riddle. You and your superiority complex need to learn that not everyone’s life revolves around yours,” I spat at him. Tom took a step closer to me, and I instinctively reached to pull out my wand. Before I had a chance to, I felt the back of my head being slammed against the wall, Tom’s hand gripping my throat tightly. Abraxas and Rosier both shouted for Tom to let go of me, but I just smiled. I stared him down, letting him know that I wasn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not allowed to speak to me that way,” he growled.

“I can speak to you any way I want Tommy.” His eyes looked as if he wanted to strangle me, but I saw the trace of a smile play across his lips. He abruptly let go of me and turned towards Abraxas.

“You need to keep your girlfriend under control. Get out of here.” Abraxas quickly grabbed my hand and started to pull me towards the door.

“Not you, Malfoy. Your presence is still required here.” I opened my mouth to tell him off again, but Abraxas quickly shook his head.

“Go back to the common room, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” I reluctantly sighed, but figured that I shouldn’t piss Tom off even more. I should have known that Tom would still be angry with Abraxas.

Flashing back to present time, I turned around to look towards the boys dormitories. Abraxas could tell what I was thinking, so he gently squeezed my hand.

“Leave it alone, dearest. He was fine the rest of the night, confronting him will just make him mad again. I don’t want you to get hurt, my love.”

I’m not one to back down easily, and I constantly let my temper get the best of me. But Abraxas’ soft touch against my leg and heart-felt words relaxed me a bit.

“Alright. I won’t say anything. Have you done Slughorn’s essay yet?”

We spent the next hour or so alone in the common room, trying to hastily finish up homework. By the time that others started waking up, I was sitting in his lap, my hands in his hair as we kissed passionately.

“You two are disgusting. 20 points from Slytherin,” a cold voice said. I rolled my eyes and gave Abraxas a quick peck on the lips before sliding off of him and back onto the couch. Tom was Head Boy, and he had no problem with taking points from his own house. He had a lot of nerve as well. Almost every single night I watched him drag some girl into his room. She always left limping a few hours later, and Tom never spoke to her again.

“Put some clothes on. You’re dressed like a whore,” he spat at me. I scoffed at him, but got up to head back to my room anyways. As I slipped on my school robes and brushed out my hair, I couldn’t stop thinking about Tom.

The rest of the day went by pretty quickly. I managed to get through all of my classes without speaking a word to Tom. After watching the Slytherin quidditch team practice while gossiping with Lestrange, I sat with Rosier and Abraxas in the common room. Rosier made me play chess with him, beating me every single time. This was strange, since I considered myself an excellent chess player. I guess I was just a little distracted. Abraxas excused himself to his dorm room, saying that he had a ton of homework to do. He gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek before leaving.

“Something on your mind?” Rosier asked me. I sighed and slumped down in my chair.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m still kind of upset about what happened with Tom. Why do you guys let him treat you all so awfully?”

“It’s not as simple as that. Being friends with Riddle has advantages and disadvantages. The occasional hex or punch to the face isn’t much of a price to pay.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

“One of these days I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” I said with a grin. Rosier chuckled and patted my arm.

“Good luck with that.”

A few hours later I was lying in my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I had been trying desperately to fall asleep. But something was still on the back of my mind, and that something was preventing me from being able to relax. I let out a sigh and rolled out of bed. I slipped out of my room and quietly walked down the stairs, into the common room. I then made my way up the stairs leading to the boys dormitory. I took a deep breath before knocking on the door at the end of the hallway. He opened the door, and my nostrils were instantly filled with the smell of smoke. Tom stood inches away from me, still in his school uniform. He was holding a lit cigarette between his fingers.

“Did you need something, sweetheart?” I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet-name.

“You are absolutely insane, Riddle! You walk around this damn school like you own the place, and I’m sick of it.” He smiled and offered out his arm to me.

“If you’re going to yell at me, then you might as well do it behind closed doors,” he offered. I didn’t take his hand, but I did step inside and let him shut the door behind me. Since he was Head Boy, his room was bigger than all of ours. I could see that his window was open, probably because of the smoke. His bed had black silky sheets adorning it, and I could see all of the books on his desk were neatly stacked. His box of cigarettes was laying on his nightstand.

“So did you come here just to tell me off or did you want a smoke as well?” he taunted.

I turned around to face him again.

“I want you to stop hitting my boyfriend. And the rest of the boys. You have to learn how to respect others.” He chuckled darkly while taking a step towards me.

“Darling, that’s a pretty demanding request. My respect has to be earned.” In an attempt to look more confident, I crossed my arms across my chest.

“You’re such a child, Tom. I don’t know why you think that everyone worships you!” I shouted at him. He quickly wrapped his free hand around my neck and pushed me against the wall. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out.

“That’s because everyone does. Everyone except you it seems.” I don’t know why Tom had this constant need to slam me up against the wall and choke me. It didn’t make me afraid of his dumbass.

Honestly, it was kind of hot. He brought his other hand up to my face and he touched my cheek softly.

“Did you and Malfoy ever finish what you started yesterday?” It took me a moment to realize that he was asking if we had fucked.

“That’s none of your business,” I snapped at him. He tightened his grip on my throat and used one of his legs to pin down mine.

“Answer my question.”

“No, I haven’t slept with him. Why do you care?” Tom brought his head down to my neck and whispered into my ear.

“Because I’m not into sloppy seconds.” Before I had a chance to mention the fact that he probably had over twenty bodies, he started kissing me roughly. I kissed him back and wrapped my leg around one of his. I let him suck on my neck as he pushed my thin nightgown up my leg and slipped one of his hands under it. He started to slowly rub circles on my thigh. He continued to suck on my neck as I tried to grind against him. He growled and used his other hand to push my waist back against the wall.

“None of that. Do you want me to touch you, darling?” he asked in a mocking tone. I nodded and he slipped his fingers into my underwear.

“Someone’s a needy little slut,” he whispered. Part of me wanted to call him a man-whore, but the part of me that valued my life kept me quiet. I felt him push two fingers inside me and I whimpered. He started to rub my clit with his thumb as he thrusted his fingers in and out of me. He started kissing my neck again as I moaned quietly. He was going incredibly slow, making me desperate for every touch. At a particularly sharp pressure, one of my legs twitched and I had to bite my lip to stop from making noise. Tom chuckled and tilted my chin towards him.

“Didn’t you come here to yell at me? Are you going to yell at me now, darling?” He started to rub me faster, which made it difficult for me to even speak.

“I hate you,” I was able to mutter. He laughed and pinched my waist roughly, making me jump. After only a few minutes, I was starting to get close to my peak. I felt my legs start to shake as I bit my lip to stifle my moans. Tom noticed this, so he stopped touching me. I frowned as he leaned down to whisper into my ear.

“Did you really think I was going to let you come that quickly?”

Before I had the chance to respond, he grabbed my legs and spun me around, pushing me onto his bed. He quickly tugged my nightgown off of me and started to take off his shirt. I tried to reach up and help him, but he used his free hand to push me back onto the bed. He quickly unbuckled his belt and kicked his pants off before getting on top of me. I felt his member pressing against my thigh. He wrapped a hand around my throat again and used the other hand to gently rub one of my hips.

“Is this what you want? Me to fuck you senseless while your boyfriend sleeps two rooms over?” I felt him rub against my clit, teasing me purposefully. I decided that I wouldn’t tell him that me and Abraxas weren’t actually dating until later.

“Tom-”

“Shut up,” he growled before thrusting into me sharply. As he rocked into me, I definitely felt a bit of pain. He was bigger than what I was used to, but I was adjusting quickly. I tried to rest my arms on his shoulders, but he didn’t like that. He pinned my hands above my head and started to attack my neck with his mouth.

“If you do that again, I’ll tie you down. Don’t test me,” he muttered. He continued to rail into me over and over, hitting me at just the right angle. In less than ten minutes I was close again. I tightly clenched the sheets and tried to grind my hips against his to alleviate some of the tension. That’s when he slipped out of me with a grin.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said while stroking my hair.

“Are you fucking serious?” I complained.

“Completely. Be a good girl and maybe I’ll let you finish before the night is over.”

I will admit, his self-control was pretty impressive. Most guys wouldn’t be able to handle pulling out before they had finished. But I also figured that he was just bluffing. There was no way he would be able to do this for more than twenty minutes. After 30 or so seconds of him attacking my mouth with his tongue, he thrusted into me again. This time his strokes were a bit slower and more gentle. He rubbed one of my arms lightly as he made me shiver at his touch.

“Tom, oh my God,” I moaned into his neck. I assumed he was going to tell me to shut up, but I guess he liked knowing how good he was making me feel.

“That’s right, darling. You like this?” I nodded my head as he pressed soft kisses against my jawline. I was definitely pleased with his change of pace. The slow stroked and gentle kisses made this feel a bit more like a normal thing. But of course, that didn’t last very long. Once he was done leaving hickies all over my neck, he wrapped his hand around it. He started to press himself deeper inside of me, rocking me into his bed. I whimpered as he hit a spot that made my legs twitch.

“Quiet, slut,” he demanded. I tilted my head slightly away from him, trying to stifle my moans with one of his pillows. I was panting at this point, desperately gripping onto the sheets.

“Could Malfoy make you feel this good?”

“Yeah, if I was with him I would’ve came by now,” I thought to myself. However, I shook my head in an attempt to appease him.

“That’s right. Should I let you finish now?” I nodded and he jerked my face back towards him. “Alright. Beg for it.” That actually made me laugh. There was no way I was going to give into him that easily. Tom shrugged and continued to pound into me. “Be difficult then. I don’t care either way.”

I bit down my lip to muffle a scream as my stomach flipped and my legs shook. Right when I was about to be sent over the edge, he pulled out of me again. By now, I was completely fed up with him. I tried to bring one of my hands down between my legs, but he was quicker than me. He grabbed both of my arms and roughly pinned them above my head.

“I don’t think so, dear. I want the whole hallway to hear you screaming my name,” he said while stroking my cheek tauntingly.

“Good luck with that,” I said with an eye roll.

“You’re mine now. No one gets to touch you but me,” he muttered into my ear before thrusting into me again. By now I could see finger-shaped bruises starting to form on my waist. We had been going at it for at least 35 minutes, and my body was aching for release. I was confident that he had left at least 5 or so hickies on my neck, which I was not looking forward to having to cover up tomorrow. Out of instinct, I tried to move my leg around his to adjust the angle. Tom slammed me down onto his bed roughly.

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled. He pressed one of his thumbs against my clit, making me whimper. I was so frustrated that tears had started to stream down my face. Tom gently wiped them away with his free hand.

“Are you gonna apologize for yelling at me earlier?” he asked in a snarl. I shook my head, which made him chuckle.

“That’s what I thought. If you’re gonna be like that, you clearly haven’t learned your lesson.” He started to kiss roughly at my collar, obviously trying to mark me more. After a few minutes of listening to me whine and pant, he decided to give me another chance.

“Promise me you’ll stop hanging around Malfoy,” he said softly. That kind of threw me for a loop.

“What? Why?” He nibbled on my ear lobe and thrusted into me sharply.

“You’re my little slut now. I don’t want him touching you. Promise me.” I instinctively shook my head, which only made his thrusts even harder.

“Promise me, darling. Like I said, I can go all night.” I really, really wanted to keep my mouth shut. But I was so overwhelmed, I couldn’t take much more.

“Fine. I promise. Please Tom, I-”

He bit down on my lip and thrusted into me at the perfect angle and speed.

Over-and-over again.

I moaned his name as well as a stream of profanities as waves of pleasure tore through my body. My legs were shaking so bad that he had to actually hold them down. While I was riding out my high, Tom muttered praises into my ear. I was so extremely sensitive that every touch set off fireworks against my skin.

“Take me like a good girl,” he said before roughly grabbing my throat. It took him a few minutes to finish himself off, but when he did it was so hot. He didn’t even bother to pull out. He continued to kiss me for a bit before he got up and started to walk towards his bathroom.

“Now, get the hell out of my room, whore.”

I smiled at his lovely term of endearment as I tried to quickly pull my clothing back on. I stood up quickly, and my legs gave out beneath me. Tom laughed as he put on his bathrobe.

“You’re pathetic,” he said while helping me up. Surprisingly enough, he walked me back to my dorm, smiling the entire way. Before he turned to leave he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Sleep well, darling.” I flashed him a sweet smile.

“You too, Riddle.”

[1987vampire]

A Good Something? | Judd Birch

Fandom: Big Mouth Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: a hurt racoon, the f slur, just a lot of cussing.  Request: None! A/N: This isn’t established Judd x reader, this is meeting him for the first time so if I write more fics for him, I have something I can refer y’all back to :) If y’all want to see more Judd, an ACTUAL judd x reader, I can give y’all that ALSO the reader has dyed hair in this - not blue - it’s not super important but there’s a line in here that references it.  Extra: 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” your words were stressed as you slammed on the breaks. The rain made it hard to see; it wasn’t your fault that the animal had run into the middle of the road. You weren’t even going that fast, they should have been able to hear you.

You flung your door open harsher than you meant to, but you had to move quickly in case someone came speeding down the road, and you ended up bleeding out right next to whatever you had hit. The road was slick underneath your feet. You almost slipped and fell as you skidded to a stop in front of them. It was a racoon, a fat one at that, and it was staring up at you with big doe eyes. His leg was twisted, and he was letting out small grunts of pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, little buddy,” You cried. “Can I pick you up? I’ll find somewhere to take care of you, I promise.” You hadn’t really expected an answer- it was an animal after all – but he nodded up at you, reaching his little paws out in hopes that you would help. You paused for a moment, taking in the situation and trying to figure out how to pick him up without hurting him.

You reached an arm under his butt and the other under his neck so you wouldn’t jostle his leg too much. He made little chirping sounds as you steadily walked over to your car, using your head as a shield so he wouldn’t get rain in his eyes. You let out a quiet stream of ‘I’m sorry’s as you did so. You made it into your car just in time to close the door as someone sped down, narrowly missing you as they went.

The little racoon shivered in the passenger seat, but you covered him in blankets and spare clothes you kept in the back, turning the heat in your car on high, trying to dry him and heat him up at the same time. He stared up at you thankfully as you put the car in gear, driving home even slower than before, never going over twenty-five-miles-an-hour.

Once you had reached your apartment, you had to sneak him in in hopes that your shitty landlord wouldn’t notice. He had a strict no animals policy, but this was a bit more important. Fortunately, you could sneak past his office by telling the raccoon to be quiet, since he seemed to be good at listening to directions somehow, and hiding him underneath the pile of clothes, passing him off as laundry.

Finally, inside the comforts of your apartment, you laid him down on the couch and set to researching what to do. After a few calls to a few vet offices and a lot of google searches, you were able to give him a makeshift cast and lay him in a way that would be best for his recovery. He was still talking in his little racoon language as you went. It really looked like he was trying to tell you something, but unfortunately, you were human and could not understand him.

That was until he held your hand in his little paws and pulled them to his neck. How had you not noticed the skinny collar he was wearing? His thick fur had almost completely covered it. Really, it wasn’t even a collar but a thick piece of cord with a circle nameplate in the middle.

You fiddled with it, reading the information attached. ‘Contact Judd. 555-4200’ was engraved onto it in someone’s personal handwriting instead of with a machine. “You know it’s illegal for someone to own a racoon around here, right,” you told him. The racoon made a noise of disapproval and fiddled with the collar again. “Do you want me to take it off?” He hissed in displeasure, making you stop abruptly. “Call him?” He nodded enthusiastically. “You’re a strange little guy, you know that, right?”

You pulled out your phone and dialed the number, tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. It took a few rings, and you were sure he wouldn’t pick up, when a deep voice answered the phone.

“Do you know what fucking time it is, right now?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned towards the first clock you could find—three o’clock in the morning. “I- I’m sorry. I can call back in the morning if you want. I just have this racoon with me, and his ankle is twisted because I accidentally hit him, and he had your number on his neck, and I- I-“

“Racoon?” His voice cut you off, and you could tell that he was waking up at the information. “You hit one of my fucking racoons?”

“He ran out into the middle of the road when I was driving. It was raining, so I could barely see, and I couldn’t swerve to miss him because there was a car on one side of the road and trees on the other. I wrapped his leg, and he’s resting, but he wanted me to call you, so here we are.”

He let out a few grumbles, and my fingers instinctively rose to my face so I could bite at my nails. “Fucking hell. Why was he in the middle of the road?” It was a rhetorical question, but you had almost wanted to respond even though you didn’t have an answer. “Does he have any distinctive marks on him? A missing toe, clipped ear, maybe he has uneven stripes.” Your eyes fell on the racoon again. He looked pretty normal besides the leg.

Almost like he knew what you were talking about, the racoon pulled one of his hands up to his forehead. After you pushed some of his fur to the side, you knew what he was pointing at. “He’s showing me that he has a scar on his forehead - like he split his forehead or something.”

“Of course it’s fucking Gerard – the fat fuck.”

You frowned at the statement. “He’s not that fat.”

“I mean the sentence in the most loving hatred filled way I can mean it. He knows I don’t mean it. Can you give the phone to him?”

This was the weirdest fucking situation you had ever been in. “Oh yeah, I guess.” you placed the phone in the racoon’s hand, and he made a chirp as a hello. You could hear Judd’s voice lowly in the speaker as he talked to him, the racoon making noises of acknowledgement as he went. You could make out very little besides him asking if you were taking care of him and then berating him for being stupid. The racoon – well, Gerard – kept trying to talk to him, but Judd refused to let up, barely giving him a moment to speak even if he did understand him.

After a few minutes, Gerard pushed the phone towards me, and I took it back. “So, what do you want me to do with him. Like, I can take him to yours, since I guess he belongs to you, or-“

“Fuck off. What are you – the feds? Give me your address, I’m not letting you see my shit.”

“Well, usually people ask me on a date before seeing my place, but-“ the words had slipped from my mouth before I thought about what I was saying, and my eyes immediately widened with embarrassment. “Oh my god- I’m sorry-“

He laughed loudly and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Well, we can think about that after I get the fat fucking faggot in your house.”

Your arms crossed. “You better part of that community if you’re using their slurs, fuckface.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mused. “Give me your address. I’m getting in my car.”

After giving him the information, you hung up, itching at your arm as you stared at Gerard. “He isn’t very nice, huh,” you told him. He chirped and shook his head as if defending him. “Is he really mean or is it a front?” He chirped at the second part, and I smiled. “Well, he’ll be here soon.”

And soon it was. It only took him about ten minutes before you heard a loud knocking on your door, banging more like. You jumped from sitting beside Gerard to the door, peeking out into the dark hallway, the latch still connected. “Judd?”

On the other side of the door was a decently tall man with black and blue hair, his sides shaved til it was only stubble. He was clad in a gray hoodie and black jeans, gray converse on his feet. His face was set in a glare as he stared at you. “Who the fuck else would it be?”

You shut the door and unlatched it, opening it wider so he could come in. “You knock like my landlord.”

“Landlord?” He pushed into your apartment, his sights set on the racoon lounging on your cheap couch. “You don’t look old enough to have a landlord.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m nineteen. This is my apartment.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder. “And you let some strange man in? Pretty stupid if you ask me.”

You frowned and pursed your lips. “I can kick you out- keep your racoon if you don’t start acting nice.”

“You could definitely try.” He picked up Gerard’s leg, inspecting it. “You did a good job with this. Almost as good as my work.”

“He was a good patient.”

Judd scoffed, sticking his hands underneath Gerard to pick him up just as you had earlier that night. “He was probably just basking in a pretty girl’s attention.”

Pretty? A smile was climbing onto your face. He was pretty, too, if he didn’t have such a sour attitude.

His eyes fell onto yours as he turned. “I like your hair by the way. The color suits you.” You ran your hand through your dyed hair, suddenly very conscious of how you looked. “You should try blue next time.” Gerard made a loud noise in his arms and reached out to you. Judd frowned down at him. “You had your fun, dumbass, but you’ve got to go home now. I’m sure the others are worried about you.”

“Others?”

Judd looked back at you. “Yeah, I was – uh – training a battalion of racoons to kill my younger brother.” He groaned quietly. “Now they’re good for catering and attacking intruders, but they refused to hurt him. Got a few scars because of it.”

You chuckled quietly and shook your head. “You sure are something, alright.”

His lips upturned the slightest bit into a tiny smile. “Is that a good something?”

“Sure, we can say that.”

You opened the door for him as he started taking strides towards it. He paused right past the entryway, something sitting on his tongue. “Try not to hit any more racoons, alright?”

Your fingers drummed along the door, and you laughed. “I’ll be sure to call you if I do. Just in case.”

He was already walking away when he responded. “You have my number.”

You hesitated on shutting the door right away, choosing to listen to him begin to berate the racoon as he walked down the hall, something along the lines of, ‘you make me come out in the middle of the night, scared shitless. You could have died, you fucking cunt.” He continued as he disappeared out of sight, but you didn’t even have the heart to ask him to cover the racoon as he left, preferring to just deal with your landlords berating the next day.

[mizunetzu]

wait okay i have so many ideas you have no clue- okay so basically y/n is too scared to confess to either ushijima or shinsou (you decide lol) so he just puts love notes in his locker :)) but ushijima/shinsou catches him one day so he teases him about it but he liked y/n too so he lowkey confesses and its super fluffy i- 🥺🥺 i've had this idea for so long but i have no clue where to start writing it myself lolll

Guess who...took 4 months...to do Mr. Shinsoussimps request...not me...ahahaha...what are you talking about...BUT ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY MR SHINSOU PLS TAKE THIS FIC AS MY APOLOGIES

——————

Ushijima x reader - Secret Admirer Love Letter-kun!

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

(Y/n’s) hands shook as he traced the linings of his love letter.

It had a red, heart-shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Ushijima-san’ written in royal purple across the back. The letter had slight crinkles from the shaky grip (Y/n) held it with.

His heart raced purely thinking about how Ushijima would react. Would he even react? Or would he just look at him with that blank stare and walk past him? Would he be ridiculed for being a man giving a love letter to another man?

Every single intrusive thought made (Y/n) want to tear up the letter and flush it down a toilet. Nonetheless, he stood next to Ushijima’s locker, waiting for him to appear.

His legs shook. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest. He could physically feel the sweat running down his forehead. He was probably gaining stares from other students for standing near Ushijima’s locker and panicking silently.

All these ‘what-if’s’ was beginning to make (Y/n) second-guess his decision. Maybe he couldn’t do this after all...

No! He had to! He’s been harboring his feelings for Ushijima for years now, and he was getting nowhere! Even if it was rejection, and he certainly hoped it was not, he needed an answer!

Just as if right on cue, (Y/n) heard the familiar deep voice of Ushijima coming down the hall. He wasn’t saying much, but the accompanied grunts of acknowledgement to Tendou’s ramblings was enough proof it was him. Without thinking, (Y/n’s) panic took over him, shoving his love letter into Ushijima’s locker and dashing out of the way.

He blended himself in with the gaggle of students near their lockers, watching Ushijima as he opened his own locker.

“Ara?” Tendou cocked his head when the letter (Y/n) slipped in fluttered out. It landed on the floor gracefully. Ushijima bent over and plucked it off the ground.

“Our Wakatoshi~kun has a secwet admiwer?” Tendou squashed his face together and boared curious eyes into the heart-shaped sticker on the note. Ushijima grunted.

“It seems to be a love letter.” Ushijima’s low voice sent even more panic through (Y/n). He didn’t want to be there while he opened the letter. But here he was, 10 feet away from him as he carefully peeled off the heart sticker from the envelope.

Ushijima’s eyes silently scanned the letter, it’s meticulous, thought-out writing filling Ushijima’s eyes. The silence rang so, so loud to (Y/n), as he watched Ushijima read his love letter with his emotionless face.

After what seemed like forever, Ushijima lifted his head up from the note. (Y/n’s) heart stopped.

“It is a love letter.” (Y/n), and Tendou, deadpanned.

Tendou reached for the letter. “Fiiiiine, then let me see-!”

Ushijima pulled the letter away, raising it above his head and out of Tendou’s easy reach. He lowered the letter and cradled it to his chest.

“No. It’s mine.”

(Y/n’s) heart fluttered. Could this mean-?

“But it does, however, have no name.”

“Awh. Poor Wakatoshi-kun’s admirer must be rewwy shy~”

(Y/n) internally facepalmed. Of course he forgot to sign the note! Why wouldn’t he?! (Y/n) crinkled up his nose. He was still determined to get his feelings to Ushijima.

He turned around, and walked to class. The next day, for sure, he was going to give him a love letter with his signature on it this time.

——

(Y/n) stared down at his paper, then shifted his eyes to the alarm clock sitting tauntingly at his dorm room’s desk, with the bright red numbers 10:35 pm glaring so menacingly at him. Like it was telling him to hurry up and sign the new love letter he just wrote. (Y/n) re-read the letter on his desk for the 6th time that night.

Everything was perfect. It explained his feelings perfectly, explained how long he’d been smitten for him for, hell, he even doodled a small picture of Ushijima himself with a heart next to it in the corner of the page.

Everything was there, except his name.

Did he really want to put his name, though? I mean, (Y/n) saw how...endearing Ushiwaka’s face looked reading his original letter. What if he ruined that when he finds out it was him who wrote it? And not some cute girl?

(Y/n) stared at the empty space on the page where his name was supposed to go. His hand gripped his pencil tighter than he should’ve, and began to write.

‘(L/n) (Y/...’

He stopped. (Y/n) thought about it for awhile, then grabbed his eraser and scrubbed at the name until it was pristine white again.

‘Your secret admirer’

Was all he wrote.

He packaged up the note in another small envelope, pressed a cute little heart sticker to the flap, and went to bed.

——

The next day, (Y/n) made sure to rush to school early to slip the note in his locker. He wanted to see his reaction to his new note. It made him feel sorta high. What kind of face would he make? Would he be delighted? He hoped he would.

(Y/n) crammed the note into Ushiwaka’s locker. No one was around. Good. No one saw him shove the letter through, therefore no one could tell Ushijima it was him. (Y/n) sighed contently, and timpered off somewhere secluded, but somewhere he could still see Ushijima and his locker.

After scrolling on his phone for what seemed like an hour, he heard Tendou’s familiar voice, humming a strange song and trailing next to Ushijima. It was his daily indicator that Ushijima was near. If he could hear Tendou coming, almost 100% Ushijima would be there too. (Y/n) pocketed his phone quickly and peeked behind a row of lockers.

Ushijima silently unhinged his locker, listening to Tendou talk. However, they fell silent when another letter fluttered out from his locker, this time landing so perfectly in his hands.

“Ara ara? Another note from Admirer-chan?”

“Yes. But I know it’s a boy, Tendou.”

(Y/n’s) heart dropped. He watched as Ushiwaka peeled off the heart sticker once more, while continuing his conversation with Tendou.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

Ushijima stopped, and reached into his locker once more. He pulled out (Y/n’s) previous note, and pointed to a line of text scribbled on there so neatly. Tendou raised his eyebrow, and leaned down to inspect the note.

‘-Besides, there’s no way someone as amazing as you can like a guy like me. It’s weird right? I hope you don’t think it’s weird. But I wouldn’t blame you.’

“Ahhhh~ makes sense...” Tendou hooked his arms dramatically over the back of his head. “But do you? Does Wakatoshi-kun think Secret Admirer-kun is weird?”

Ushijima traced the two love letters with his eyes. “I think he’s brave.”

(Y/n) clutched his tightening chest. It suddenly became really hard to breathe. How was Ushijima being so unintentionally sweet?

Tendou cooed. “Awwww, Is our Wakatoshi-kun catching feelings for his Admirer-kun?”

Ushijima folded the two notes back into their envelopes silently. He said nothing to Tendou’s remarks, while gently placing the two love letters back into a safe spot in his locker.

(Y/n) brisk-walked away, flustered, before he could hear his answer.

——

Writing notes and hiding them in Ushijima’s locker became a sort of habit for (Y/n) in the past few weeks.

Every now and then, he’d write a short love letter signed “Your Secret Admirer” or “Admirer-kun” and slip it under Ushijima’s dorm room door or the cracks between his locker. It became an addiction of watching him unravel the note with the tenderness of an angel. For such a big dude, he held each love letter (Y/n) wrote him with such delicacy.

(Y/n) walked with a pep in his step as he arrived to the school building early, like he’d usually been doing. He’d recently been writing small letters, playground compliments like “I think you look nice today!” or “the way you play volleyball gets me all fired up!” but this was the first time in a while he wrote a good chunk of his feelings out.

At first he thought he would make Ushijima uncomfortable, but after many of his personal notes filled with the most wonderful explanations of his feelings, or rambling about dates he’d like to take him on, he’s grown more comfortable with it. Especially after seeing the teeny tiny, barely noticeable blush tinting his cheeks as he read them.

(Y/n) stopped in front of Ushiwaka’s locker. It was a familiar stop, after cramming in letter after letter inside for about a month or two now. It’s been so long that (Y/n) couldn’t even remember himself.

Just as his hand met with the cold metal locker to slip the note in, two hands slammed down on (Y/n’s) shoulders, effectively scaring him shitless.

“I’ve caught you! Secret admirer-kun!”

“Uwaaaah!”

Tendou made a show of flamboyantly pointing his lanky fingers at (Y/n), bending his back father then (Y/n) knew was possible in the process. (Y/n) jittered, swinging his hands in front of him while stuttering incoherently.

“I-it-its not-! It’s not wh-what it-! T-the letter-I was just-I-!”

“There’s no use for it now, Secret-Admirer (L/n)-kun! You’ve been caught red handed!” Tendou stuck his tongue out heartily while (Y/n) broke into a cold sweat. If Tendou kept yelling the whole damn school would hear him.

“I-I’m not the one leaving notes in Ushijima-kun’s locker! I was just-!”

“Oya? Then how did you know Wakatoshi-kun was gettin’ notes in his locker in the first place?” Tendou eyed him down half jokingly. (Y/n) sputtered.

“More importantly...” Tendou dramatically pointed to the envelope half-sticking out from the slits of Ushijima’s locker. “Whaaaaats that!?”

“That’s-!”

There was no use fighting Tendou on this. (Y/n) deflated, defeated and grasping on to the wall of lockers for support. “Uuuuu...”

“So, Secret Admirer-“

“S-stop calling me that! Just (L/n) is fine-!”

“-Secret Admirer-kun, what made you fancy our lovely Wakatoshi-kun?”

(Y/n) turned around, facing the locker as Tendou smiled his usual, Tendou-grin. (Y/n) didn’t wanna look at Tendou and his stupid knowing smirk.

“He’s just...I dunno, he’s just so-cool...and stuff...and he’s so nice...looking...”

“Ah, such sophisticated words-tell me, do you write all of this down in the letters you give him?”

“Hey!” (Y/n) whipped his head around.

Tendou chuckled, and part of (Y/n) wanted to smack him upside the head. Tendous laughter eventually died down, as he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek. He looked back at (Y/n), who was blushing profusely and had his arms crossed.

“Phew...haha...” Tendou cleared his throat. He pointed straight at (Y/n). “Now, here’s some ultra wise words from Satori-sama!” He mimicked a fake drum roll on his lap, before pointing at (Y/n) again.

“Ja-jun~! You should Wakatoshi-kun how you feel about him!”

(Y/n’s) heart got stuck in his throat. “A-are you crazy! I could never! I-I’m not...I’m not...I’m scared..”

“Hm? But you’re not scared to write about how much you wanna kiss him alllllllll oveeeeeer-?”

“That’s different!” (Y/n) yelled, more quietly this time. He turned back to the locker, and tipped the rest of the note in sticking out inside the slit. The note disappeared through the gap, just like all of its predecessors. “Like this, I can tell him how much I love him without him knowing it was from me! What if he’s disappointed it’s me and not some other dude?”

“I’m veeeeeery sure he won’t be. But suit yourself, I guess.” Tendou shrugged. He turned around and left, but not before saying,

“But you’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.”

“Wait-what does that mea-“

(Y/n) looked back, only to find Tendou gone. (Y/n) stood there, perplexed, before dashing off to his own locker, so he wouldn’t be spotted near Ushijima’s.

——

Everyday when (Y/n) went to slip another note into Ushiwaka’s locker, Tendou’s words would ring in his mind.

‘You’d better tell him yourself before he finds out from someone else.’

He knew that. He knew that but he couldn’t stop himself from cowardly slipping notes into Ushijima’s locker, just to run and take cover as he opened them up. And one time he could swear Tendou was looking right at him in his hiding spot when Ushijima was reading one of his letter.

(Y/n) shook the thoughts from his head. That happened 3 days ago, and nothing happened. Tendou was probably just trying to scare him into telling him. Yeah. There’s no way anyone could’ve found out about him being Ushijima’s secret admirer.

He huffed and strode up to Ushijima’s locker, just like he did every time before that. No one was in the hallway. There was no footsteps, at least to (Y/n’s) knowledge, and Tendou wasn’t around with his booming voice. If (Y/n) could hear Tendou coming, chances are Ushijima was not too far behind.

Tendou wasn’t there. (Y/n) was safe. He smiled and rose the letter up to the slot in Ushijima’s locker. He slowly crammed the note in, slowly, slowly until-

Slam!

A large, calloused hand slammed against the locker, making (Y/n) jolt up in surprise. (Y/n’s) heart stopped beating. He felt someone lean against his ear, and then they whispered:

“So Tendou was right. You were the one leaving the letters in my locker.”

“Ushijima-kun-!”

(Y/n) whipped his head around by the speed of lightning, pressing himself against the locker wall as if he’d disappear into it. Stupid fucking Tendou! Of course he’d tell Ushijima!

Ushiwaka didn’t move from his spot in front of (Y/n). His arm outstretched on the wall beside (Y/n) didn’t falter either, making him blush even more. God, he wanted to disappear.

The letter, now hidden crudely behind (Y/n) sweaty back, was being smushed as he tried shrinking in on himself.

“I-I-“ (Y/n’s) mouth ran dry. “It’s not what it looks like-!”

“Hm.” Ushijima’s deep voice manage to startle (Y/n), despite being right infront of him. God, he was close. So close. He’s too close. Oh god, why is he so close?

Ushijima suddenly grabbed (Y/n’s) hand, making him sputter in surprise as Ushijima pulled it out gently. A letter with a red heart sticker on the flap was wedged in between (Y/n’s) shaky, sweaty fingers. Ushijima looked at the envelope, while (Y/n) averted his embarrassed eyes.

“...But it’s exactly what it looks like.”

Words perished in (Y/n’s) throat. If the locker would just open up and swallow him whole, now was the time.

Ushiwaka plucked the note out of (Y/n’s) hands, ignoring the small protests of (Y/n) himself. He tried to grab for the letter, but Ushijima held the envelope high above his head and grabbed at (Y/n’s) shivering wrists. (Y/n) squeaked.

“...why are you trying to grab it back if this letter was meant for me in the first place?” Ushijima looked oblivious to (Y/n’s) embarrassment. (Y/n) croaked. He didn’t even register what Ushiwaka said with how strong and warm his grip on his wrists were.

He didn’t realize Ushijima managed to peel off the heart sticker and fish out the note with his hand until he started reading the letter. His eyes scanned the words, even when (Y/n) quietly squirmed protestingly in his grasp.

“Mm.” Ushijima hummed. (Y/n’s) eyes widened when he realized what he wrote in today’s note.

‘Y’know, I think you’re really cool with how you’re so dedicated to your club. But maybe...one day we could grab a bite to eat after your club activities? Just you and me? And maybe if I’m lucky enough I just might get a kiss from the amazing Ushijima Wakatoshi-kun~’

(Y/n) wanted no more but to die then and there. Ushijima looked at (Y/n) with an unreadable gaze.

“Ah. So it seems in today’s letter, you would like to go out for food and kiss. I am free after club activities today at 6. Are you free at that time or must we reschedule?”

(Y/n) met Ushijima’s state with a confused face. He said nothing-he couldn’t say anything. All he could do was muster up a weak “w-wha..?”

“So...you are not free today...?” Ushijima’s face was normal, but he gave off the same vibe a sad, kicked puppy would. It was sorta cute. (Y/n) waved his hands around frantically in Ushijima’s grasp.

“N-no! That’s not it! I-I’m free! I’m totally free! I just-“

“You just what?” Ushijima cocked his head to the side bluntly. (Y/n) opened his mouth to say something, but let it clamp shut quietly.

(Y/n) averted his gaze. “Well...you don’t think it’s...weird that I was the one leaving you love letters?”

“But I already knew you were a man in the first place.”

“Still!” Ushijima was genuinely confused. (Y/n’s) voice died down a bit.

“Aren’t you...y’know...disappointed?”

Ushijima’s gaze never left (Y/n’s) eyes. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“I’m...w-well...it’s just...”

Ushiwaka placed his free hand on the other side of (Y/n’s) face, effectively trapping him in between his arms. Ushijima’s heavy gaze was too much to bear. (Y/n) instinctively averted his gaze away.

“You still haven’t given me a valid reason to be disappointed.”

“I-“

“You’re lovely, I believe you are very attractive, and you leave nice letters of encouragement in my locker everyday.”

“Wait-“

“I believe we both have feelings for each other. Therefore, I do not see why you are so hesitant on just doing what today’s lovely note said.”

“Ushi-“

“Is this just an excuse to turn me down? Were the letters not your true feelings? Because if so you just have to say so-“

“Ushijima-kun!”

(Y/n) rasped out between his fingers. He was covering his blushing face, and Ushijima didn’t know why until he realized his face was centimeters away from (Y/n’s). If it weren’t for (Y/n’s) hands cupping his face, they’d probably be able to kiss with one push closer.

“P-ple-please s-step back...”

“Oh. Sorry.”

Ushijima moved back, but didn’t quite move his arms from their positions on either side of (Y/n). He blinked. Silence engulfed them both, Ushijima bluntly staring at (Y/n) as he blushed and blushed into his hands.

Ushijima figured he should say something, and even open his mouth to speak when (Y/n) suddenly piped up, bringing his hands down from his face.

“I-I’m free...at 6...”

Ushijima blinked again.

“Ah. Today?”

“Yeah..!”

“Lovely. It is decided then. Will you wait for me at the gym after practice? If not I can pick you up from your dorm room.”

(Y/n) fought the urge to pinch his arm to see if he was dreaming or not. “I-I can meet you at the gym!”

Ushijima smiled gently, and that’s probably the first time (Y/n’s) seen him smile ever. It was so coaxing, relaxed and warm, (Y/n) wanted to take of picture of it and just stare at it for days. Ushijima let his hands fall to his sides. Not before giving a pat to (Y/n’s) head.

“It is decided then. It’s a date.”

(Y/n) had to remind himself to thank Tendou later.

——————

Lowkey this was so fun to write~ why don’t y’all leave some love in the comments because of that~~?

[byunmyeon]

Philophobia

↳ pairing: lee suho x reader

↳ synopsis: in a world where a red string connects soulmates, everyone knows who they belong with. except you, who hasn’t been able to see your string since you were a kid.

↳ warnings: language (like one word), a copious amount of angst and heartbreak

— note: there’s a serious lack of suho fics out there so I decided to write my own. lmk if you guys want me to write a second part!

There was something inexplicably eerie about being the new girl in a school that was twice the size of your old one. Not because it was an unfamiliar setting, nor was it because you were painfully shy and terrible at making friends. It wasn’t even your disparaging insecurities that had you feeling so shook. No, it was something you couldn’t put your finger on, something you couldn’t begin to name. A discomfort you could feel all the way down to your bones.

Your inordinate unease swelled into full blown panic with every step you took toward your new classroom. Somewhere in your unorganized mind, you could hear your mom’s reassuring voice. Everything will be okay. You didn’t know if her words held any truth, but you really, really, really hoped she was right. You were being stupid, honestly. There was nothing to fear, but you couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling from your stature. Despite all the undesirable emotions you felt, your breathing was normal and your heartbeat was steady.

It took you a minute to gather yourself. You could do this.

After a very ineffectual pep talk, you finally got your feet to move. Your eyes were cast down as you entered the classroom. The rowdy classroom went silent once your presence became known. You swallowed the nerves and chanced a glance at your new classmates. The reactions were a mixture of curiosity and disinterest.

When your teacher introduced you to the class, you decided to really look at your new classmates. Among the sea of unfamiliar faces, one stuck out. An unnaturally attractive face belonging to an unfamiliar boy. His stare was strange. It was full of an intensity you couldn’t comprehend. You kept staring, in spite of yourself. Fuck. Was it possible for someone to be so attractive?

The clapping of your classmates pulled you back into reality. You were quick to look elsewhere, unable to understand the sudden lurch of your heart.

Suho couldn’t take his eyes off the new girl, more specifically, the string neatly wrapped around her index finger. He watched her carefully. The shy smile she wore was annoyingly adorable, and it made a foreign warmth spread across his chest and along his entire body. The new girl didn’t spare him another glance as she took her seat next to Jugyeong.

Lim Jugyeong.

He wasn’t her soulmate and she wasn’t his, but she was the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart. That wasn’t about to change because some stranger who he was supposedly meant to be with came into his life with no warning.

Suho looked back to the front of the classroom without looking at the new girl again.

The first time it happened, you wrote it off as fatigue. After all, you had just started middle school and trying to keep up with your new workload as well as your budding social life was exhausting. That day, the color of your string had faded a bit, but it was still visible. By the time you were on your way home it disappeared for a mere second before regaining its color. Days later, it was completely gone.

When your mom first found out you could no longer see your string, she became extremely distraught. It had affected her more than it did you, honestly. She wasted no time in taking you to see countless specialists and psychologists. Anything to keep you from becoming a freak that didn’t know who they were meant to be with. She unknowingly made you feel exactly like that.

Apparently, you were a rare case because every person you went to for help wanted to conduct a study on you and your condition. Fortunately for you, your mom didn’t want you becoming a lab rat and decided to stop seeking out help from strangers. Left with no other option, you went to one person who she believed could help you. An old friend of hers.

He wasn’t a specialist, just a regular doctor who came to the conclusion that a deep, scarring trauma had caused you to no longer see your string. You could remember the heartbreak on your mom’s face because you both knew what that trauma was.

Your mom did her best to help you. Spending more time together and countless hours of therapy did nothing for your condition. Nothing worked. You became convinced that trying to see your string again was futile.

And you were right.

As time went on, you grew used to the unease that had latched itself onto you on that first day. The feeling in your bones settled in like an unwelcome guest who refused to leave. No matter what you did, you couldn’t shake the feeling. Eventually, you gave up trying.

However, something shifted when you crossed paths with Lee Suho.

You two had been put in the same group for a science lab. His attention had been solely on Lim Jugyeong, but there were times when your eyes would meet. Those milliseconds were just that, but to you they felt like an eternity. He rarely addressed you, but when he did, you could feel the pressure weighing on your bones fade bit by bit. That familiar feeling soon shifted into a more comfortable presence that you yearned to feel forever.

It was subtle, but at some point, Suho’s emotionless face changed. The change would last for no more than a second, but it always did when he looked at you. That change had your entire stature seeping with warmth. You vaguely recognized the feeling as something akin to infatuation.

It scared you.

Of course, the possibility that he might be your soulmate crossed your mind, but you quickly dismissed that thought.

Too many times had you gotten in trouble for insisting someone was your soulmate when they really weren’t. Any special bond or feelings that grew between you and someone else couldn’t always be interpreted as the ones between soulmates. You learned that the hard way.

Besides, your soulmate would make it clear to name themselves as such even if you couldn’t see the string.

At least, you hoped they would.

Philophobia.

Before you went into high school, your mom insisted you see one last psychologist with the promise that the one she found was different. Reluctantly, you went to see this woman who diagnosed you with this absurd illness. You felt like it was made up, but your mother was adamant that you did have it.

You knew she only thought that because you had told her you no longer had any interest in finding your soulmate. Her panic was unrivaled after hearing those words come out of your mouth. You wrote off her panic because your disinterest in soulmates was only natural. How could it not when—at the time—it was all your friends could talk about? Talk about being the odd man out.

Okay, and maybe you also weren’t keen on meeting new people because of the fear that they could easily ignore the string you couldn’t see. There was also the fear that if you ever did meet someone you wanted to spend your life with, they could end up not being your soulmate and vice versa.

But those feelings would all fade with time, you were sure.

Hanging out near the back of the school where no one ever went became a regular thing for you. It was the one spot where you didn’t have to worry about your soulmate or anything related to that—a safe place. Until it wasn’t.

“You can’t just ignore the bond you have with her.”

The angry voice was one you vaguely recognized. You peeked around the corner, eyes widening when you saw Han Seojun and Lee Suho in the middle of what appeared to be an argument.

“Why are you bringing that up?” Suho’s eyes narrowed. “Do you still like Jugyeong?”

Seojun’s gaze hardened. “It’s not about that.”

It was wrong to listen on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation, but your feet wouldn’t move. You could see Suho’s anger and irritation from your hiding place, and for some reason seeing him that way made a blistering discomfort latch itself onto your chest.

“You’re being unfair to Jugyeong and Y/N.”

The mention of your name had your insides twisting into an uncomfortable knot. You didn’t understand why or how you had anything to do with the discussion, but you had a feeling the reason wasn’t anything good.

“Just because she’s my soulmate doesn’t mean I owe her anything.”

There was a sharp pain in your chest, one that grew into a searing pain as the seconds ticked by. You might’ve cried out in pain had it not been for the shock that consumed you. In a sudden instant, your vision became blurred with tears as you staggered back. His words were the worst form of torture, like a piece of barbed wire that wrapped itself around your heart.

Your fate was a cruel one, forever bound to someone who refused to acknowledge the bond between you two. Lee Suho was your soulmate, but he didn’t want to be.

It was a cruel reality to have your worst nightmare come to life.

“Is it true?”

Suho raised an eyebrow at you. His gaze didn’t soften like it once did. Now it just remained impassive, almost annoyed. The cold look he was giving you was making you regret even coming to him in the first place.

“Are you really my soulmate?”

“Why are you acting like you don’t know?” Suho’s unaffected stare unsettled you. “You’ve known since the first time we saw each other.”

But you hadn’t known. This entire time you had been driving yourself crazy thinking you were only imagining the connection between you two like you had done countless times after you first lost the sight of your string. Despite wanting to tell him that, you settled for a question.

“What about Jugyeong? Don’t you think she—?”

“Are you going to tell her?” He interrupted you.

You could literally hear your heart crack. Of course that’s all he cared about. He didn’t care whether or not you were hurt and upset, hell, he probably thought you had no interest in your soulmate. But he was wrong, so very wrong.

“Why?” He demanded. “You don’t want me as your soulmate either. You’ve been ignoring the bond, too.”

I can’t see my string! You nearly yelled. The words were clawing at your throat, eager to be released. But you found yourself unable to tell him the truth.

“My soul chose yours,” you said, close to tears. “And a soul just doesn’t forget that.”

For a moment, one that was so quick you thought you imagined it, Suho looked remorseful. Stupidly, it made you hope that he would accept you and the bond that bounded you together.

“Don’t tell her.” His voice didn’t sound like a plea, but you knew what he was asking you to do was clearly important to him. “I can’t loose her.”

And so, you agreed. Even if it meant that your own heart would be left in tatters.

[junko-and-riri-domain]

jayla’s cafe | sjy

↬ series: cameras & caffeine | chapter one ↬ overall pairing: cafe owner!jake x ceo!reader (all members will be featured at some point throughout the series, some are in it more than others !!) ↬ overall series genres: fluff, slight angst, jake also bakes, reader is a single mom, we fell in love when we were kids but life happened so we broke up and now we’re reconnecting because we’re adults and i don’t think i ever truly got over you au, love triangle if you squint really really hard ↬ navi: next | series masterlist ↬ warnings: none ↬ word count: 1.3k

[ series synopsis ]

↱ You were young when you fell in love with Sim Jake. How could you not when he had a smile that could light up the darkest of nights, eyes that seemed to look deep into your soul, and a bubble of happiness around him that you wanted to be a part of? He was young when he fell in love with you. How could he not when you had a warmth that could never be replicated, a spark in your eyes that he loved to see, and your own special way of calming him down? But life had other plans for you two. After high school, he wanted to move back to Australia and start a new life with you but you wanted to stay in the country and continue the life already established for you. Things changed, your views no longer aligned, and before either of you two had broken up.

Now, a few years have passed and due to medical issues, your father has decided to temporarily step down from his position as Hybe Entertainment’s CEO, leaving the position to you. Despite all the eyes watching and waiting for you to fall since you’re so young and a single mother, you’re determined to prove them all wrong. You’ve been doing fine so far, working in such a high position and stressful environment while simultaneously being able to take the time and effort to take care of your son, Heeseung. But when you get news of your ex, Jake coming back to the country and opening up a cafe you decide to pay a visit. One visit turns to two which turns to three and before you know it, Jayla’s Cafe suddenly becomes a part of your regular routine. Jake meets Heeseung, the two instantly taking a liking to each other but unbeknownst to any of you, cameras lurk in the bushes and flash when you’re unaware. What happens when photos are revealed to the public and connections are made? Connections… that might not just be baseless rumors after all.  ↲

You let out a sigh as your eyes stay settled on your laptop screen in front of you, too focused on work to be able to glance at the time and too busy to hear your office door opening. It’s only when you feel a presence next to you, a slight tug at your hand, and the sound of your son’s voice that you’re finally brought back to reality and out of the trance that work had put you in. You smile as you smoothen out Heeseung’s hair, move the chair back a little to allow him to settle on your lap. You look up at Sunghoon and smile,

“Thanks for taking care of Hee today,” you say gratefully. Of all the billions of people in the world, you couldn’t be more thankful to have Sunghoon as your best friend. He was there for you when you were pregnant, a constant source of comfort when you needed it, and now was one of the closest things that Heeseung had as a father.

“Mhm,” is all Sunghoon replies as he takes your coat for you. While the three of you head into the elevator

“Hoonie?” you say. Sunghoon stays quiet at the nickname, simply looking at you and you continue, “I’m thankful for all that you’ve done for me but you really don’t have to any of this. After all, you’re the co-CEO of Park Enterprises with Jay and you have your own life. Maybe you should go on a few dates here and there instead of always being with me and Hee, I can set you up,” you offered. Sunghoon was hurt at your implication that there were better places to be than with you but didn’t show it. Instead,

“I don’t have time to go on dates, you know this.”

“But you have time to take care of a kid for half a day?” you countered. In all the years that you’ve known Sunghoon and have been best friends, you never could really get a read on him. You wondered what he was thinking about and the thoughts running through his mind but when the elevator finally reaches the parking lot below your building,

“It’s different because you and Heeseung are actually worth spending my time on,” he replied as you got into your car. The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a normal occurrence with Sunghoon but it felt normal and was a type of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Spending time with Sunghoon was something that you did so often that it was almost a part of your routine. Like tonight, there were times when Sunghoon would pick up Heeseung and bring him to your office and the three of you would then have dinner together. Other times, you picked up Heeseung and headed to Sunghoon’s office for dinner. Occasionally, Sunghoon’s half-brother and co-CEO of Park Enterprises, Jay would eat out with you guys too. Growing up, you were all a group of five who were stuck together like glue, Jay, Sunghoon, Yeji, you, and Jake. The Park Brothers ran the family business together while Yeji chose to travel the world, much like Jake did. You hear your name being called, causing you to look at Sunghoon next to you,

“Huh?”

“You ok? You looked so deep in thought.” You glanced behind you, looking at Heeseung now asleep in the backseat,

“Just thinking about some things is all.”

When you got to your house and started eating dinner, you couldn’t help yourself from glancing at Sunghoon every so often. You couldn’t deny that it felt nice to have a constant source of stability and comfort through him, but it wasn’t fair to him since he was spending so much time and taking so much effort to help you out given that you were a single mother and he had grown to become your best friend. The two of you were on your living room couch since he was spending the night and were watching a movie while Heeseung was asleep in his room. Suddenly, Sunghoon brought up a topic that you weren’t quite expecting him to but you weren’t surprised about it earlier.

“Jake’s back from Australia.” You set your cup of hot chocolate on the table and wrap the blanket tighter around you and lean your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder,

“I know.” It comes out mumbled as you keep your eyes on the screen, not quite wanting to talk about it but you knowing that you were going to have to face it eventually, nervousness now filled you.

“He opened up a cafe downtown, Jayla’s Cafe.”

“I know.”

“I’m going with Jay tomorrow.”

“Jake invited me too but I said I couldn’t go because of work.” It was a lie since tomorrow was your day off but Jake didn’t need to know that. Honestly, you weren’t ready to face Jake and you didn’t think you’d ever be. When you and Jake were younger, you fell in love but after high school, life happened and Jake chose to go to Australia while you decided to stay since you were learning how to take over Hybe Industries.

“You gotta tell him.”

“It’s not like I keep it a secret, like, people know I have a kid.” It was a dumb response and you knew it. Sunghoon called you out on it by saying,

“You don’t keep it a secret but you don’t actively acknowledge it either.” Sighing,

“Can we not talk about this today?” Or ever, you wanted to say.

“I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do. But he’s back now.”

The opening day of Jayla’s Cafe went way better than Jake expected if he was being honest with himself. Whether it was due to good marketing, pure luck, or Layla’s presence in the cafe that drew in so many customers, he wasn’t going to complain about it. He was more nervous now than he was in the morning because Jay and Sunghoon would be dropping by in a few minutes. It had been years since he had seen his old friends or been a part of “high society” as most would call it due to the status and wealth you all grew up with. He missed you the most and kind of hoped that you would’ve dropped by today. But things were different now, he knew. You two weren’t the little kids who fell in love and acted on that love in your teens. You were no longer the girl who’d yell at Jake for teasing you over something dumb, you were now the CEO of Hybe Entertainment and someone that young kids could look up to and aspire to be like. He was no longer the guy who’d hold your hand or give you a hug when you cried because you didn’t need that-- him anymore.

“I was the one who decided to head back to Australia,” Jake muttered to himself in an effort to somewhat justify the years that he hadn’t seen you or anyone else except for the few times Jay would come to Australia. The bell chiming signals to Jake that someone had walked in, confirmed at the sight of Jay and Sunghoon entering inside the cafe. While you had already told him that you wouldn’t be coming, his heart still sank a little at the lack of your presence here. Greeting the guys and setting out some pastries and drinks, the three talked and caught up on things. Somewhere down the line,

“Jake, can you connect my phone to the Wi-Fi real quick?” Sunghoon asked, handing Jake his phone,

“Yeah, sure man.” Taking Sunghoon’s phone, the phone screen was still open, a mistake Sunghoon was unaware he had made. Looking at the phone screen, Jake saw a photo of you and Sunghoon which wasn’t something that was surprising to him. What did surprise him was the sight of a little boy in between you and Sunghoon, Sunghoon’s smile the brightest he’s ever seen it before. As Jake hands Sunghoon his phone back after connecting it to the Wi-Fi, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened in the years he’d been gone. But throughout the night and as the conversation went on… he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

↬ a/n:

now that tatts & cupcakes is over, meet cameras & caffeine !!

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul​​ ) | main blog masterlist | blog navi

taglist status: open -- send an ask or comment !! ( if you comment, i respond under my main acct )​

taglist: @markleepooh | @ifvjay | @softnanaaaa | @dear-dreamie​ | @sunshineshouchan | @bloom-bloom-pow | @mykalon​ | @fairycob​ | @icywhatim​

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Could you do “does he make you feel as good as I do” with Will!? I’m so sorry...I’m on one today! 🌺

Pairing: Young! William Ironhead Miller x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + only for language, yearning, fingering, and a surprisingly soft ending.

Captain Miller

You sat in the dark, seedy bar and listened to your friends complain about their lives. Children, husbands, sex; anything and everything you sat and just listened. "He didn't even make me cum," Marcie groans, taking her fourth shot of tequila.

"Damn, no man knows how to properly fuck a woman anymore," Julia sympathies, "it's like they can't even find a damn clitoris."

"He could," you whisper, and all three turn to stare at you.

"Who?" Charlie asks quietly.

You clear your throat and take another sip of your beer, "no one, forget I said anything."

"No," Marcie sits up, "tell us, who are you talking about?"

You open your mouth to speak, but the words die on your tongue, your throat goes dry. Unspeakable energy hums from the direction of the door, and you turn slowly behind you, the heat of his gaze already on you. "Him," you whisper, broken.

He looks damn good, even more delicious than the last time, and he smiles in your direction with a wink. One of the guys he's with claps him on the shoulder, and they meander over to the bar. "Who's that?" Charlie asks, all their eyes watching him.

"Captain William Ironhead Miller."

"Ironhead?"

"He’s in Delta Force; it’s his call sign." You stay silent, and you can't drag your eyes away from him. The way his shirt clings to his muscles, his arms threatening to break away from the fabric, trying to contain them. Those muscular legs that carried you wrapped like a monkey around his waist. You shiver, and almost like he can hear your thoughts, he turns.

Your eyes meet the blue of the sea, and you drown in the depth of his eyes. He whispers something to his friend, who nods before coming to walk over to your table. Your positive he can hear your heart beating loudly in your chest, and his smile widens when the others watch him with wide eyes.

"Hi, honey," he grins, putting one hand on the table and the other on the back of your chair. You can smell the cedarwood of his cologne, and he leans forward, putting his lips to your ear. "I missed you." You close your eyes and inhale a deep breath; you could get drunk on the raw masculine energy he exudes.

"Will," you should be embarrassed at the whimper of his name on your lips, but you don't even care. "Fuck, I missed you too." You feel him press a kiss to your cheek and pull away, grinning when you chase him with your lips.

"Is there somewhere we can talk alone? I don't want to get interrupted like last time." You frown, remembering the last time he blew into town while you were with another guy. Will had seduced you then, too, reducing you to nothing but a whore starved for his cock in the bathroom of another seedy bar.

"I'm here with my friends," you take a breath to clear your head, gesturing to the three women who have their eyes fixed on the two of you. "I can't just leave them."

"Go," Charlie urges, "We got the drinks this time."

"Yes, go," Julia smirks with a wink, "just call us later to make sure you got home okay." Fucking traitors.

He smirks and reaches for your hand, the spider has you in his trap now, and you're powerless to resist him. You stand and follow him out into the cool night air, "where are we going?" you ask quietly, and he remains silent.

When you reach his truck, he turns you, so your back is against the door before he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, and his hands wrap around your waist to prevent you from puddling on the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, moaning softly when you feel his tongue swipe over your bottom lip.

He takes your lip between his teeth and drags it out before releasing it with a pop. Your pupils are dilated, and you're sure you looked as wrecked as you feel, and he's barely touched you. He removes one hand, and you hear the click of the truck unlocking, "get in." He opens the door to the backseat of the cab, and you tremble, feeling him follow close.

He wastes no time pulling you across his lap and pressing you down, so you feel how much he wants you. The seam of his jeans bursting against your soaked panties. He takes your sundress and bunches it at your waist, dipping his fingers down the front of the elastic. "Fuck, honey," he groans, feeling how wet you are for him, "Is this all for me?"

You nod, the ability to form words long gone, as he strokes the fire between your thighs. All you can manage is a weak whimper of his name. He removes his hand, and you whine before the sound of your panties ripping breaks the silence. He bunches the fabric in his fist and brings it up to his nose, taking a whiff. "I didn't get to taste you last time, honey. Can I tonight?"

You nod, mouth-watering as you watch him tuck your panties in his pocket like a prize. "I'm gonna take you home tonight honey, no one is going to interrupt us this time. Tonight, you are mine." He lets his hands drift, and he dips two of his thick fingers inside you; you clench around him and drop your head back as he holds them still inside you, his thumb beginning to draw small circles on your clit.

"I want to take my time with you tonight," he begins to pull his fingers in and out of you slowly while his tongue licks the salty skin at your neck. "I'm going to make you cum so many times before I even give you my cock," you rock against his fingers, praying for more of his touch. He smiles against your neck and bites down hard enough to leave a mark, like a lion marking his territory. "That's it, ride my fingers," he praises as you move your hips a little faster.

His fingers are frozen, making you work for it. He pulls down the front of your dress with his other hand and lavishes your breasts with his tongue and teeth, leaving a trail all over your chest of his bites and bruises. "Will," you moan, his mouth latched onto your breast, "I need more, please."

He doesn't say a word, doesn't even acknowledge he hears you but suddenly curves his fingers, pressing right against your g-spot. "Oh fuck," you shatter, trembling so hard you may have blacked out for a minute. He drags your neck back and swallows your screams as he takes over, pumping his fingers into you, again and again, drawing out your orgasm.

When you come back down from the stratosphere, you smile softly at the smug look on his face. "Feel good, honey? Does he make you feel as good as I do?" He withdraws his fingers, and you watch as he sucks them clean, never taking his eyes off yours. "Mhmm," he groans, "you taste so fucking good, honey."

You swallow, finding the courage to speak, "I broke up with him that night. There hasn't been anyone else. Only you."

He's silent, watching you, always observing. He licks his lips before he speaks, only the slightest twinge of vulnerability in his tone, "no one else? That was almost six months ago."

"They weren't you," you whisper, and his eyes go soft for just a moment before they slip into that careful mask of the soldier.

"I'm getting deployed again," your heart sinks, "I may not come back." You understand what he's saying, that this may be all he can give you. America is his mistress, and she's the one he's going to fight in a war for. "But if I do," you feel the hope bloom in your chest, "then I want you. All of you, for as long as you'll want me."

"Then take me home Captain Miller. I'm already yours."

@lunarthoughts @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @darklingveracruz @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031 @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anet @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskosgirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit @mimimi-stuff @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501 @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @Demoncrypt1066 @the-dendrophile-bookworm @amneris21 @deliciouslydisturbed365 @princessxkenobi @Kirstg42 @ew-erin @maievdenoir @withakindheartx

@gunslinger2000 @omlwhatamidoinghere @linkpk88 @tlcwrites @lv7867 @mudhorn-djarin19 @mssbridgerton @elisabethbathgate @pascal-rascal424 @midnightzonzz @massivetfsimp @mandorush @marvelousmermaid

@daffodin @xjustmenobodyelse @blufanfictionthings @nicotinebirds @queenbbarnes @rayslittlekitten @missjessie21

[bitchassbucky]

Ｂａｃｋ Ｔｏ Ｙｏｕ (Ｓａｍ Ｗｉｌｓｏｎ ｘ Ｆ!Ｒｅａｄｅｒ)

📎Word Count: 1.5k

📎Warning/s: some heckin’ words. Bucky’s in this, he’s a bit annoying (affectionately) <3 MINORS DNI.

📎A/N: omg my first Sam fic! i wanna thank my boo @babyboibucky for enabling me hsakjdhak ily! this is for you, bee!

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

📎 Follow the story: Back To You, Dimples, Inked

“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky says, annoyed that Sam has been looking down on his phone, remotely giving attention to their conversation.

Sam grins, fingers dancing over the keyboard on the screen, “Yeah, yeah. Something about motel rooms—or beds.”

“I said that they gave us two beds in one room,” the former spots their door number, quickly walking to it. The tactical bag swinging over his cybernetic arm freely.

The night was warm, the air blew the ocean mist towards the town. The parking lot is empty save for a black sedan that’s already been through a lot. They chose to stay low instead of getting a room at a decent hotel close by–something about them not likening the crowd.

Once inside, both men cleared the room in 30 seconds flat. The window opens out, the door stays closed and locked. The TV has to be on but kept on low volume. The beds are made, it’s clean; beats the flat beds on the plane.

Sam throws his bag over to the bed closest to the window, calling dibs. “Hey, you got headphones?” He asks.

“No,” Bucky answers, settling his things below the foot of the bed, “why?” He catches Sam again smiling giddily over something, “what you got a girl there or something?” 

“It’s none of your business,” Sam retorts, quirking his eyebrow upwards, “well? Do you have headphones?”

“If you listened to me, you would’ve heard me say ‘no.’”

Bucky should’ve had brought headphones. Sam has been droning on and on with a ‘friend’ over on a video call.

Not that he’s eavesdropping and nosy but he saw how Sam lit up when a voice came in from his phone.

“Hey, Sammy! I finally get to see your face.” You say, your voice crackling over Sam’s speakers, “am I on speaker right now?”

Sam smiles, focusing on your background and seeing pictures and posters plastered on the wall, “oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot my earphones somewhere.”

“What? Old man Barnes rubbing off on you?” You laugh, your glasses reflecting your laptop’s screen. Your joke sending Sam into a laughing fit.

“You know he’s in the room, right?” Sam clarifies as he turns the camera to Bucky, much to the former’s dismay. But despite himself, Bucky waves to the camera.

“Heard a lot about you, Barnes! Hope you’re ready for frequent bathroom trips from this one.”

Sam faces you again, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, “Shut up or I’m gonna drop the call.”

You quickly send him an emoji via text, Sam rolling his eyes as you giggle. “Anyway, since you can’t join in on the fun, you’ll be my audience tonight.”

Sam gives you a confused look, a hint of crease appearing between his brows. “Tonight? What’s tonight?”

A fake gasp and an overdramatic show of hurt had him chuckling, “You already forgot the karaoke night you promised me, didn’t you?”

He grins apologetically and looks at the camera, as if looking into your eyes, “I’m sorry. Been busy these past few weeks.”

You smile softly, the imagery giving Sam a burst of butterflies in his tummy, “it’s okay. I was just being dramatic. I got that from you, you know.”

You are not a good singer. But you confidently belt out the highest of notes like one. Complete with hand gestures, you hold out the last note of the song.

“Thank you,” you bow down to your imaginary crowd off-camera, “I’ll be here all night.”

“On god, please don’t,” Sam interjects with a tender smile and soft eyes.

“Sammy!” Your eyes glazing over your screen, a deep pang of homesickness hitting you, “I missed this. I missed you.”

He nods, his lips pressed tightly as he tries to find the words to respond, “I missed you too, bub.” 

A soft note of a love song sounds over your speaker, traveling to his, “you love this song.”

Sam nods, reminiscing the moments he had with you during college. The one time you almost kissed—where are these memories and feelings coming from?! “Yeah, and---”

The doorbell rings on your end. Your eyes glinting as you stand up. Food delivery!

“Hold that thought, Sammy. My food’s here,” you say, your voice faint as you’re practically halfway through the door.

“She is a god-awful singer,” Bucky expresses, “but you love her, don’t you?”

“What?” Sam quickly taps a button on his screen—stupid Bucky and his stupid mouth. He covers his phone’s mouthpiece as if that could help, “shut the hell up.”

Sam’s changed demeanor confirms Bucky’s growing suspicion, “so you do love her!”

The latter glances at the empty screen, hoping you didn’t hear anything. Or maybe, he does?

The only sign of life from your end is the sound of various utensils cluttering and a metal bowl falling to the floor, making both men wince at the sudden noise.

Sam lowers the volume of his phone, facing Bucky from their respective beds.

“Shit,” Sam exclaims, running a hand over his handsome face, “maybe I do.”

This time, he finally lets himself go through the memories you made together before he left for the military.

The coffee dates, the late-night calls, the breakfast hangouts, the study sessions. You light up even the most boring of things. The texture of your skin, the sound of your laugh, the twinkle in your eyes bring Sam into a warm place.

You make him feel enough. You see him through and through.

Oh shit, he is in love with you.

Bucky just looks at him, boring holes in his face, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “You really just realized, just now?” Sam’s not sure if it’s a rhetorical question.

“The way you talk about her. The way you talk to her. You see her and the things she like everywhere we go and you realize it just now?” So, it is a rhetorical question.

The revelation leaves Sam amused but unable to form words, “I… Do–I do love her. I’m in love with my best friend.”

A silent beat drops in the room—save for the faint hello? coming from Sam’s phone.

Ah, fuck.

Bucky put on his jacket planning to head out (to the motel’s ice machine) to give you two privacy. He bids Sam good luck and you a good night before walking towards the door.

As soon as the door shuts, Sam increases the volume on his phone again.

“Sam?” You call out, “I can’t see you, your cam’s off.”

In panic, he realizes that he tapped the wrong button—maybe Old Man Barnes had rubbed off on him.

You smile and sat up a little bit straighter when his face lights up your screen again.

“So… how much did you hear about the whole thing?” Sam wants to tread carefully around the subject, the first time he feels uncomfortable opening up to you.

He fully expects you to dismiss the topic, turn in for the night, and leave him lamenting about his feelings. And he’s somehow okay with it.

“Kinda, everything.” You confess, there’s nothing holding you back now, “I, you know-- I’m glad you got ‘round it. Even if it took you years.”

Another pin drops inside Sam’s head, “what do you mean?”

“Look, I confessed to you before we graduated but you never acknowledged it. So, I never brought it up again.” Even miles apart, Sam’s presence was around you. The bracelet he gave you during junior year, his favorite mug you borrowed from him, a ton of his shirts and hoodies that he gave to you before moving out after graduation. 

“You confessed to me? When?” Sam racks his brain for the smallest of details, for the quietest of whispers.

“I wrote you a letter. Remember? I slipped it under your door after finals week.”

After all these years, Sam never quite found out who wrote him that letter, “you never signed it.”

Sam didn’t expect you to laugh, to double over such a serious conversation, “dude, I did, I signed it. Why would I send you a deep proclamation of love without signing it?”

“It was written on pink paper, right? I still have it. You wanna bet that you don’t have your name on it?”

Your eyes widen in embarrassment, heat creeping up your cheeks, “oh my god, are you serious? I didn’t sign it?”

Sam laughs softly, his eyes crinkling the same way. There are lines decorating his eyes but he was still your Sam.

“No, ma’am.” He declares, the air somehow lighter now, “if you did, I would’ve said something.”

A hum escapes your lips, curling into a gentle smile, “good to know.”

The comfortable silence envelops the room, years of yearning and pining finally coming to end.

“Hey, after this mission - I was thinking if you want to go out. Catch up and you know, finally, talk in person.” Sam asks, there’s still a tiny voice inside his head not believing the talk that had transpired.

“I’d love that, Sam.”

The sentiment crashes and closes in on itself as Bucky barges into the room, holding a bucket of ice in one hand and a pack of beer in the other, “congratulations, idiots.”

[multiplefandomsblog]

S/O who lost a bet to Kokichi, punishment being a Maid’s Dress

request; Ooooo, Requests are open! Could I have a female S/O who lost a bet and now has to wear a sexy maid outfit? And Kokichi is just. Eating. It. Up.

warnings; reader lost a bet and has to wear a maid dress, reader uses female pronouns and names, reader uses master(non-sexually), cussing, had to make kaito the ‘bad guy’ for trope reasons lmfao, kokichi gets jealous and possessive, they goof off a ton at the end, overall just fluff without much plot, and i.. i dont even know how to say this, i used this phrase i found from the internet “top 15 embarrassing things to say to strangers” so like,, watch out for that..! ahahahaha-

note; omfg i hate this one so much- most out of all my works, i stg i am the most disappointed in this one. please don’t even read it- i could’ve done so much better ;-; man, i just butchered this like a fricking idiot-- sorry anon!!!! you seriously deserved so much better, i am so sorry. there are so many issues with this- the ending, the cringe, the messiness, the fucking clichés- seriously, please please forgive me. although you probably shouldn’t, i am just so so sorry T_T please don’t be afraid to ask me if you want this rewritten, i am like, BEGGING YOU TO ASK ME TO REWRITE THIS SAVIBVDHBSDKJ

word count; 2.1k

You took a deep breath before leaving your dorm, mentally preparing yourself for the walk of shame to the dining room where you had to… you didn’t even want to say it, nor acknowledge it. The bet you had lost the day before with Kokichi, had left you with nothing but bitterness in the end. Your eyebrows were permanently creased, an expression of pure regret on your face as you shuffled unenthusiastically down the hall in your frilly maid’s outfit. 

Shuichi greeted you as soon as he noticed the dress, a concerned, confused and albeit a bit flustered expression on his face as he did. “H-hey S/o! Um, so are you going to the dining hall?” He asked an obvious question, just so he could somehow get you to talk about your huge dress. Only nodding shamefully, you stifled a sigh. 

Shuichi only made a noise of acknowledgement, letting the conversation go stale as he was too afraid to address the elephant in the room, himself. You were both silent, Saihara standing in front of you, awkwardly planted on his spot while he looked at everything but you. 

He didn’t say anything, only occasionally sparing glances at your dress as he stood like a tree. Getting irked from the silence, you deadpanned, “... You want to know why I’m wearing a maid’s dress.” He flushed at even the mention of the word, as if you had said something terrible.

“Y-you don’t have to te-” Disrupting his excuse, you looked him dead in the eye, and uttered one word, “Kokichi.” Shuichi blinked at the name, before nodding in pity. After your short response, he required no further questions, the single name was all it took for the realization to wash over him. Even if he wasn’t a detective, it wouldn’t take less than a second to know what was going on. 

As if the said-Kokichi had been waiting for you to say that, Kokichi suddenly popped out of nowhere, scaring the two of you at his sudden appearance, “Oh? What’s my maid doing with Saihara-chan? Not wasting time I hope~” He laughed sadistically at your suffering, “Chop chop my maid! Since I’m your master, you’re gonna have to follow my every order! So don’t even try to disobey me; cuz I’m sure maid-chan knows what happens when she does, right? Nishishi!” You cringed at the nickname, ere sighing in defeat and letting him drag you to the dining room where you’d soon meet your demise.

You looked back at Shuichi one last time, mouthing a, ‘Help me.’ as Kokichi dragged you away. Shuichi only sent back a sheepish and apologetic look, in which you glared at him, betrayal overtaking you.

A couple of minutes later of countless teasing and judgemental looks sent your way, you were finally at the dreaded destination. To your surprise, Kokichi eagerly kicked the door to the dining room open before you could even prepare yourself, the entire class turning around at the loud noise. Kaito was first to speak up about the dramatic entrance, ‘Kokichi!? What the actual F-! … f-ffffffffffuuhh..” Kaito trailed off, his attention shifting off Kokichi, to focusing on you in a maid’s dress. 

Despite wanting you to feel the pure unfiltered humiliation, the sadistic bastard definitely did not love the way Kaito was eyeing you. Smile faltering for a second, he considered dragging you to his own room and having you perform a private show for him instead of these assholes. Shaking his head, he tried dispersing the thoughts of… jealousy? No, that can’t be it. 

He decided he’d delay his feelings of conflict for later, and unfortunately for you, focusing back on your nervous figure. Peaking at the look on your face, he couldn’t help the twinge of worry for your well-being. 

Noticing him stare at you with a small concern, you furrowed your brows in suspicion, that wasn’t really like him. Only then, did you notice the desperation on his face. He looked like he was choosing to either say, “Are you okay?” or “Pleaaaase!” He watched you, eyes wide with worry yet looking as if he had been begging you. Choosing your fate, you sent him a reassuring, but solemn nod, deciding to do the act he had been looking forward to for the entirety of yesterday; the day you lost that damned bet. 

You sighed defeatedly at his pouty expression, you were weak for him and he knew it.

“Alright.” He looked up at you with expecting eyes, holding back a shit-eating grin, “Alright what..?” You sighed for the 2nd time within the span of 45 seconds, “Ugh... Master.” The single word uttered out from your pretty lips had his entire body shuddering, fighting back the blush on his face, he leaned his back towards you teasingly, his ego had been very clearly stroked, “That’s right. I’m your master; so come on and get to it! Don’t make your master wait~” He added, clearly enjoying your misery. You pouted, where did the worried Kokichi go?

Turning to face the crowd that seemed to be staring at you while you flirted talked normally with Kokichi, you felt your frills shuffle with each movement you made. You closed your eyes in preparation, making a mental note never to make a bet with Kokichi, ever. “Do I have to get on my knees?” He smiled cheerfully, “It’s part of the deal~” ‘Nishishi’ing as dread washed over your face.

Everyone watched in anticipation, some with concern, but mostly the former— as you got on your knees, the skirt neatly pleating on the ground. 

Disgruntled, you uttered out a small, “If you tickle me, I will… I- “ You looked back at Kokichi, a look of, ‘Do I have to do this?’ contorting on your face as you stared at him pleadingly, dying inside when he nodded frantically like a child at a candy store.

“... S-say hee hee and prance around like a rainbow lollipop on a cloud of unicorn wishes.“ You flinched , the entire class had suddenly started howling and rushing towards you—most likely to tickle you—, but right before a giddy Angie and a determined Tenko could get their hands on you, Kokichi suddenly spoke up, stopping them in their tracks. “Hey! She’s not allowed to be touched by mutts like you, so get back!” He brutally spat, voice scratching from the force of his words. 

Kaito immediately took the opportunity to ask you out as Kokichi’s occupied with the others, not hesitating for a second. Tapping on your shoulder, a shy smile adorning Kaito’s face as he awkwardly shuffled, “Hey S/o..! Do you maybe wanna, um..” Kokichi swiftly popped out from underneath your skirt as if this was a routinely thing, standing in between you and Kaito. “What the hell-” Kaito recoiled back in shock, had he just been hiding under there?? Kokichi looked at you, before looking back at him. 

You were sure if looks could kill, Kaito would’ve been dead a year ago. “Hey. You know she’s mine, yeah?” Kokichi spoke with a dead-cold look on his face, before almost immediately contorting back into his usual mischievous smile, “... My personal maid, of course! Nishishi!” Kaito stared Kokichi down, in which Kokichi simply glared back in amusement, the same smile staying onto his face. Irking, Kaito discontentedly walked away, shortly after Kokichi had won the stare-down. 

Exhaling loudly, his smile fell off his face as well as the breath he kept in, a neutral expression replacing his grin as he stared back at you, “You know, this whole thing is getting kinda boring, let’s just leave.” He tried putting on his signature charming grin, but you could see the way his teeth clenched. It seemed Kaito asking you out had a bigger effect on him than he wanted to admit. 

Despite teasing and asking him if he was worried and/or jealous on the way to a secluded area, he persists, staying stubborn and brushing it off. “It just wasn’t as fun as I thought! Now stop nagging me and hurry uuuuup! You’re such a slowpoke.” Perking up, he suddenly remembered something, “Oh wait! That’s an order, right? So you have to obey.” Rolling your eyes, you jolted as an idea suddenly found its way to your head. 

Flashing a mischievous smirk in his direction, you left him bewildered as you started sprinting across the field. “Wh- Hey! Haha, what the fuck!?” He cackled at how stupid you looked, throwing your heels across the field somewhere as you stumbled from the length of the dress, still running to god knows where. 

His laughing suddenly halted as he witnessed the way you took a large leap and stepped on your dress, tumbling down as you did.“Stooop! You’re gonna actually hurt yourself, seriousl-! …” Kokichi suddenly fell silent as you fell on your face, only sounds of him choking back holding back his own loud laughter. But the boy could only hold back for so long, and as you raised your head from the field, you could hear him just fucking losing it. 

Turning around and glaring directly at him, you stumbled back to your feet, jogging towards one of your lost heels before hurling it directly at Kokichi’s stomach. “Take that you little shit!” Now you were the one laughing at his misery. In the end the heel didn’t do what you wanted it to, as he just kept on laughing, only now wheezing from the hilarity of the situation and for the air you knocked out of him. 

Hearing his crazy horse laughter fill the air, you couldn’t help but laugh just as loud, along with him. You jogged up to his hysterical figure, falling down next to him, your own giggles mingling in with his. He turned his head to you, pointing at your face weakly, before throwing his head back and laughing even louder. 

Eventually, the laughter calmed, both of you just bathing in the afterglow of the extreme euphoria you both had felt. Kokichi turned his head again, staring at you in thought. Noticing his eyes, you took your eyes off the sky, catching his seemingly whipped gaze, “What?” 

He smiled, “Even though you look like a maid who had just went through hell to try and escape her traumatizing slave prison life, you still look cute.” Admitting with no hesitation and way too many details, he watched in amusement as your face flushed. “And borderline sexy too. I am loving the sexy prisoner look.” He added, catching you off guard as you flushed even harder. 

He sighed lovingly, “You know, I’d gladly pay you to stay in that dress... And I’m not lying.” You scoffed and looked at him in disbelief, Kokichi frowning back, “Hey! Don’t look at me like that! You know damn well, you look hot in those tights.” He drifted his eyes lower and lower, tilting his head to get a better view- before you suddenly chopped him. 

Wincing from the hit, he started bawling, “Uwah! How meeeaan! And to do that to your master too! How could you!?” Here come the waterworks. You only grimaced, right before decreasing your face in defeat, deciding to play along, “Fine. I’m sorry then,” Sighing, “Master.” You groaned out, clearly unhappy with the title Kokichi had forced on himself. Kokichi went light-headed as soon as he heard that word come out your lips, smiling like a goof, he only gawked at you. 

Shooting your head back to him, you were concerned as to why he was suddenly quiet. Was there something wrong with him? Did he pass out? “Master?” You called him by his title, shaking his tiny figure. The expression on his face showed pure bliss, “Just kiss me already.” 

He snapped out of it for a second, eyes darting to yours. You glared at him, in which he simply glared back, a challenging smirk on his face, differing greatly from his expression from earlier, “That’s an order~” 

Blinking at the statement, you gave in to your demise, slowly leaning down to kiss his forehead lightly, a flush on your face. Pressing your lips lightly against his skin, you pulled away shortly, lingering no longer than you had to. However short it was, that alone seemed to do it for him, as you swore you saw hearts shoot out from the spot in which you pecked. 

Giggling strangely, he rested on the field, completely surrendering his body to the earth as he went limp. “Nishi… My maid loooves me!” You stayed silent at the bold remark, wanting to refute but you knew he’d just figure out your lies. 

... Even so, you refused to admit it, “You fucking wish.” Snorting, you pushed his face away from you gently, cackling as you heard his whining.