#i applied like two maybe three weeks ago

[muirneach]

my mom keeps telling me i should call a place i applied to a job at online to ask if i can have an interview or something and im like you are such a boomer. who does that. but fine i will. but do you guys think itll work like at all. i know it cant hurt cause if they dont hire me they were probably already not going to hire me but aughh. mostly i think it wont work because at my old job i was the one answering all phone calls so i know if someone called me and asked that i would just be like ‘yeah idk man uh we’ll email you if we need you im a minimum wage part time employee what the hell do i know about that’. so..

[likeumeanit9497]

wanna see? | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem! reader

summary: during a night of heavy drinking, y/n tells chris that her roommate, who had slept with him weeks prior, had been less than impressed by his skills in the bedroom. chris asks if y/n believes her roommate, and when she says she does, he decides to prove her wrong.

warnings: SMUTTTTT; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); p in v; DIRTY TALK; unprotected sex; drinking; spanking; ROUGH; 18+

notes: not to gas myself up but...this smut...is insane. i literally wrote all of this in like three hours idk what happened i think my body was taken over by my hormone monster or some shit. but anyways i hope u chris girlies enjoy <333

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“Y/n! Our Uber is two minutes away, are you ready?” My roommate Bree called from the other side of my bedroom door just as I finished applying my lip gloss. “Yep! I’ll be out in a second.” I replied, taking one final look at myself in the full length mirror and adjusting my pleated mini skirt. Satisfied with my appearance, I finally exited my room and found Bree struggling to tie her corset top up herself. “Oh god, let me help.” I sighed, grabbing her shoulders to turn her around so that I could lace her up. “Thanks babe. Oh my god, you look unreal!” She exclaimed, facing me once I was finished, and I smiled sheepishly. “You don’t think it’s too much?” I looked down at my tiny skirt, low cut top, and chunky boots self consciously. “Absolutely fucking not. As a matter of fact I think you should wear that outfit every day for the rest of your life.” She replied before poking my cleavage playfully. I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Oh shut up, let’s go.” I shoved her shoulder jokingly and we both headed for the front door of our apartment.

“So,” I began once we got on the elevator, “Who’s all gonna be there tonight?” Bree’s fingers were flying across the keyboard on her phone, frantically texting someone. “Um…the usual group I think, probably gonna be a few other random people we don’t know yet, but Nick told me they’re keeping it pretty small this year.” She replied as we got into our Uber and I nodded in acknowledgment.

We were heading to the triplets’ house to celebrate their 21st birthday. Bree and I had met Nick Matt and Chris about a year ago, and the five of us had grown extremely close since then. It was a short drive from our place to theirs, but still I pulled out two mini bottles of tequila and handed one to Bree. She raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. “We didn’t have time for a pre game.” I said simply before raising my bottle to cheers her. She laughed before doing the same, and we both took our shot. “Fucking ew,” She said, shuddering, “I hate tequila.” It was my turn to laugh. “The first shot is always the worst, remember?” She nodded hesitantly. “True enough.”

“So…you think things are gonna be weird with you and Chris? This is the first time you’ve seen him since-” Bree cut me off by waving her hand nonchalantly. “Nah, it’ll be fine. For him it meant nothing, and you already know what it was for me.” I bit my lip to stifle a laugh.

A few weeks ago, I was awoken from my sleep at 3 a.m. by Bree barging into my room to tell me that she had just slept with Chris. This news shocked me, since I knew that she had been pining after Matt since we first met them. When I asked her to explain how the fuck that happened, her only explanation was that she was drunk enough to pretend that Chris was Matt. Initially, I had been concerned that their intimacy would make things weird in our group, but both of them seemed to be completely unbothered by it.

“Alright well, let’s just enjoy the night.” I said as our Uber pulled up to the house. “And who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky with the right triplet tonight.” I joked before walking up to the front door, side by side with Bree. She sighed. “Probably not. Pretty sure all hope of that disappeared once I opened my legs for his brother.”

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Staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, I realized that I was drunk. Bree and I had arrived at the house about an hour ago, and we both immediately took three tequila shots back to back in honour of the triplets’ birthday. Thirty minutes later, we took another trio of shots, and that was more than enough to get me absolutely wasted. I haphazardly reapplied my lipgloss before exiting the washroom and heading back over to the kitchen to grab something else to drink.

“Whoa whoa whoa.” Shouted Nick over the loud music before rushing from the cluster of people he was with and grabbing the bottle of tequila from my hand. “Pretty sure you don’t need any more of that right now. How about some water?” He phrased it like a question, but didn’t wait for me to respond before grabbing a solo cup and filling it with water. I made a weak attempt at protesting, but deep down I knew that he was right; I was so far gone and the night was still young. “Thanks Nicky.” I said once he brought me the cup of water, and he rolled his eyes. “Ew. Don’t call me that. Now come over here and hang out with us.” He led me to the kitchen table, where him, Chris, Matt, Nate, and a few of their other friends were chatting.

“Hey Y/n, you want a shot?” Nate asked, a bottle of vodka gleaming in his hand. Just as I was about to respond, Nick cut me off with an aggressive “No!”, causing me to pout. “Oh yeah, you’re wasted kid.” Chris said with a shot glass in his hand. I looked at him for a moment, taking in his disheveled appearance and blood shot eyes. “Yeah well so are you.” I retorted weakly, and he chuckled. “It’s my birthday, so no judgments allowed.” He said before immediately lifting his glass to cheers with the rest of the group.

I stood there sipping my water slowly as they all took their shots, my eyes focused on Chris’ sharp jaw as he grimaced from the taste of the alcohol. I continued to watch his mouth as he spoke to the person to his right, caught in a drunk trance and intrigued by the rosy colour of his lips.

If I was being honest, I had felt a certain attraction towards Chris since I met him. It wasn’t exactly a crush, and I certainly didn’t have any sort of serious feelings for him, but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t ever been tempted to go there with him before. There was a time, early on in our friendship, where we almost crossed that line.

I had been helping him hang posters on the wall above his bed, when he suddenly tackled me onto the mattress. It started off playful, but after a few moments of us play fighting, he ended up on top of me and the mood in the room completely changed. The smiles on our faces disappeared, and I felt my heart begin to race as his lips moved closer and closer to mine. Just as our lips brushed, the sound of Matt’s footsteps coming down the basement stairs caused us to jump apart, and we never spoke of that moment again.

Outside of that time, him and I had only ever acted as very good friends. As a matter of fact, out of all of the triplets I definitely got along with Chris the best. We both had similar personalities, and could joke around without worrying about hurting each other’s feelings.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Nick’s voice to my left. “Y/n, did I tell you how unbelievably hot you look tonight?” I giggled, noticing that his voice was beginning to sound slurred even to me, so he was clearly drunk. “You did, but thank you Nick.” I replied, smoothing down my skirt and batting my eyelashes jokingly in his direction. I thoughtlessly glanced at Chris, and found his glossy eyes trailing slowly down my figure; clearly admiring my outfit.

“Hey Y/n, have you seen Bree?” Asked Nate, and I looked around the room quickly, realizing that I hadn’t seen her since I used the washroom. “I saw her go outside a little while ago, probably went to smoke.” Replied Matt, and I smiled to myself knowing that Bree will love the fact that he has been secretly keeping tabs on her whereabouts. “Speaking of Bree,” Chris started, turning back to look at me, “Did she tell you about what happened two weeks ago?”

The group grew silent for a moment as they waited for me to respond. I took a sip from my water and nodded. “She sure did.” Chris smirked. “I’m surprised she even had to tell you. You must have been out cold if you slept through all that noise she was making.” The entire group groaned, clearly disturbed by Chris’ lack of filter. “Oh my god! Goodbye.” Nick threw his hands in the air before storming off to join Madi on the couch in the living room.

I scoffed, grabbing the bottle of vodka from Nate and taking a swig. “Bullshit.” I replied simply, wincing from the burn as the vodka travelled to my stomach. Chris raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How so?” Even in my drunken state I was very aware of the amount of eyes on me awaiting a response. “Well, I asked her to rate the sex on a scale from one to ten. She said six.” The group broke into laughter, and Chris’ jaw clenched as he smirked. “Hmm, funny.” He replied.

“You asked for the wrong number,” Said Nate through his laughter, “You should have asked her for the inches.” Chris grabbed the bottle of vodka from me before bringing it to his lips. “Oh I did,” I smiled, leaning towards Chris’ ear before continuing in a whisper so that only he could hear, “I believe her exact words were, ‘nothing special’.” Chris smirked, swiping his tongue across his front teeth. “Oh really? And you believe that?” He responded, and I nodded, crossing my arms across my chest. “I have no reason to not believe her.” We stood there for a moment, both of us just staring at the other tauntingly as the rest of the group just watched in silence, clearly feeling left out of the conversation all of a sudden. Finally, after letting his eyes travel down my body slowly again, Chris spoke.

“You wanna see for yourself?”

It took every fibre of my being to keep my jaw from physically dropping at his words. “Uh, what the fuck are we talking about here?” Nate said, his voice tentative. I kept my gaze on Chris, hoping that my eyes weren’t giving away how shocked I was. I watched him watch me; his bright blue eyes drilling into mine, his lips upturned in a confident smirk. Realizing I had been silent for too long, I blinked repeatedly and cleared my throat to regain my nonchalant composure before shrugging. “Sure.” I heard Matt groan beside me as I grabbed the vodka from Chris, taking a sip as I followed him towards the stairs to his bedroom. “I’m gonna be sick.” Matt’s distant voice shouted as Chris and I descended the stairs and walked into his dark bedroom.

Once Chris shut and locked his bedroom door, I felt a pit in my stomach begin to grow. I suddenly broke into a fit of laughter from the ridiculousness of this situation. “What are you laughing at kid?” Asked Chris, beginning to chuckle himself. I took a moment to catch my breath before responding. “You’re not actually gonna let me see your dick, are you?” I clutched my stomach as I tried to control my laughter, and he shrugged. “I will if you want to see it.” I bit my lip in contemplation, trying desperately to think properly through my drunk fog. Failing miserably, I nod my head.

Chris smirked. “Come here then.” I put the bottle of vodka down on his desk and walked over to where he was standing in the middle of his room. I stopped about a foot away from him, but he gently pulled me closer. Looking at my face, he finally pulled me up against him; rubbing an uncertain thumb against the small of my back. “Wait, I’m not hard right now.” He chuckled, seeming to have his own moment of consciousness. I smiled up at him and tilted my head, placing a hand on his stomach. “Well I need to see it in its full glory. How else am I gonna know if you’re telling the truth?” His thumb stopped its movement on my back, and a glimmer of something flashed in his eyes.

“Okay, then make me feel good baby.”

My stomach did a somersault at his words, and I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against his before grabbing his bottom lip with my teeth and pulling slightly; watching as it snapped back into place. My right hand slowly traveled down his stomach towards his waistband, where I let it linger for a moment before moving down to his crotch. There, I had to keep myself from audibly gasping; as even through his pants, his fast growing bulge was in fact huge.

Chris smiled lazily as my hand continued to palm his clothed dick. “Impressed yet?” My eyes snapped to his, and I decided to maintain my unimpressed persona. I hummed, my lips touching his but not quite kissing them. “Is this all you got Chris?” I bit his lip once more just before it turned up in a smirk. “Not quite.”

I gasped in shock as Chris spun me around and slammed me against the door, attacking my lips with his own. His kiss was full of a sort of animalistic hunger, and I was consumed by the taste of peppermint and vodka. He pressed me even harder against the wall as he rolled his hips against me, and I fought the urge to whimper at the feeling of his restrained cock against my needy core. He brought both of his hands up and pulled my low-cut top down to free my tits before grabbing one in each hand. Detaching his lips from mine, he took a moment to look at my chest before attaching his mouth to my left nipple; swirling his tongue around its sensitive nerves before moving onto the right.

Pulling away from my tits and once again coming face-to-face with me, he spoke. “Get on your knees.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and began guiding me down to the ground. Now at the same height as his bulging member, I watched as he wasted no time in removing his jeans. Now only concealed by his thin boxers, the true size of his cock was much easier to see. I stared in silence for a moment, taking in the fact that his boxers just barely covered its entire length. “Now do you believe me?” He asked from above me. I struggled to find my words, but I didn’t want to end this crazy game that we were playing, so I shook my head. “I’ve seen bigger.” I replied, looking up at him with doe eyes.

Chris rolled his eyes before pulling his boxers down to his knees. Now fully exposed, his cock smacked my face as it sprung free from its restraint. I couldn’t help but stare at it in awe — it had to be at least eight inches — as the faint light in the room reflected on its beautiful veins. “Open your mouth.” Chris’ commanding voice pulled me from my trance, and I looked up at him in shock. “What?” He tilted his head, “You said you’ve seen bigger, so you should have no problem swallowing this cock. So open your mouth.” His dirty words went right to my heat, and I felt my panties begin to flood with arousal.

Chris used both hands to collect all of my hair and held it out of my face as I wrapped my lips around the first few inches of his cock. Starting slow, I swirled my tongue around his sensitive tip before bobbing my head; taking a bit more of his length with each pump. I released his cock from my mouth for a second to catch my breath, before quickly leaning back in and deep throating his entire length. I heard a hiss escape his lips as my nose brushed against the sprinkle of hair against his lower stomach, and I began moving my head up and down his entire length; making sure to get every inch of him in my mouth.

“F-fuck, Y/n, that’s good. Keep going.” Chris rasped, and he began thrusting his hips at the same pace I was moving at. I moaned around his cock as his grip on my hair tightened; halting my movements entirely as he began face fucking me. Tears welled in my eyes as his cock repeatedly slammed into my throat, and I watched his face as his jaw went slack in both concentration and arousal.

Suddenly, all his movements stopped and he pulled me up to my feet. With his lips on mine and his hands tightly grasping my ass, he walked me backwards towards his bed. Once my heels reached the edge of the bed, Chris reached under my skirt and slid my panties down my legs. Feeling myself lose all sense of control, I didn’t hesitate when he ordered me to lay on my stomach with my ass in the air. I began trying to remove my skirt, but was stopped short by a sharp slap to my ass. “No, leave it on. You have no idea how sexy you look right now.” My back arched subconsciously from his words, and I began to tremble in anticipation.

I felt the bed shift as Chris climbed on, and I shuddered from the heat of his breath against my core as he spoke. “You want to talk shit about how you don’t think I can make girls scream, then you better stay fucking silent.” He gave me barely any time to register his words before his mouth connected to my core. Working his tongue relentlessly against my clit, I buried my face in his duvet to keep from making any noise. Using both hands to massage my ass as he continued to devour my cunt, he very quickly proved to me that he did in fact know how to eat pussy.

His mouth moved from my clit to my opening, and I couldn’t stop the guttural moan from passing my lips as his tongue began to plunge into me. Immediately, he stopped his movements and slapped my ass hard. “What did I say?” He asked, his gravelly voice filled with a sinister edge. “S-sorry.” I replied, pushing my core back in an attempt at reconnecting with his talented mouth. “That’s my good girl.” He replied before finally re-attaching his mouth to my hole. I bit down on my lip — so hard that it began to bleed — in order to keep myself from making another noise as I felt an orgasm approach. Chris continued using his tongue to fuck me as my legs began to shake and my brain grew fuzzy.

Like a tidal wave, my orgasm overtook my body and I began to convulse uncontrollably. I was somehow able to stifle my sounds of pleasure, even when Chris moaned into my pussy as I felt myself squirt all over his face. Without even giving me a moment to recover, Chris straightened his body up onto his knees, grabbed onto my hips, and plunged every substantial inch of his cock into me. At this, I couldn’t help but scream out in shock, and Chris promptly pulled out of me; leaving my dripping core feeling empty. “I told you to shut the fuck up. Do you want me to stop?” He tapped my pussy with his cock as he waited for me to respond. Scared to say anything, I simply shook my head. “Are you ready to admit that Bree was lying?” I turned my head so that I could see him behind me.

“Size doesn’t mean shit if you don’t know how to use it. So go ahead and prove yourself right.” At my words, Chris shook his head as his lips turned up in a smirk. Immediately, his dick slid back into me slowly, and I felt my hole stretch more and more as he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, before pulling his hips back so far that his tip was barely resting inside of me; and then slammed all of himself back into my cervix. He continued at this agonizingly slow and deep pace for a while, and used his words to taunt me the entire time.

“You’re such a good girl, taking all my cock like this.”

“I bet you feel so good right now baby.”

“Oh fuck, keep creaming all over this big dick.”

Suddenly, Chris pulled out of me and flipped me onto my back. Wasting no time, he hooked my legs around his neck and pushed his inches back into me. I stared at him, mouth open, as he watched my pussy swallow his cock with each quick thrust. Using one arm to support his weight, he placed his free hand on my stomach and pressed down. “You feel that?” He began, finding the spot where my stomach was bulging, “Feel how deep in your guts my cock can get?” My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I bit on my own arm to stifle the noises that were dying to escape it as I felt my second orgasm approaching.

Chris seemed to notice my impending climax, as he leaned forward to reach even deeper into me. “You want to cum, hmm?” He cooed, bringing a hand to my cheek. With my face contorted in the confusing combination of pleasure and frustration, I nodded my head. He moved my arm away from my mouth and planted a deep kiss there. “You can cum as hard as you want, just as soon as you tell me how good my cock makes you feel.” I whined silently, my overstimulated nerves causing my body to fill with a sudden desperation. “Come on, Y/n,” Chris brought his thumb down between our bodies and began rubbing my clit, “I want you to cum for me.”

I was panting now, feeling as though I might explode from the overwhelming pressure within my body. I was quickly realizing that I was losing this battle, and it was time to throw in the towel.

“Fuck Chris you’re so big.” I nearly screamed out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at keeping my composure. “Feels so good, please let me cum.” I begged, and watched his face as his pupils dilated from my words. “That’s my girl. Now let go.” His hips continued pounding into me as I finally gave into my orgasm, and I lost all control of my mind as I spewed a plethora of moan-filled profanities into the room. My walls contracted uncontrollably around his girth as my orgasm tore through my body, and I felt my nails dig into the skin on his shoulders.

“Oh fuck Y/n, gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” His words came out shaky, and I didn’t hesitate before responding, “In me, please baby.” I begged, wanting to feel his warm seed spill into my worn out core. “Shiiit.” He hissed, his body slowing to a near-halt as he rode out his own orgasm. With slow, lazy thrusts, he pushed his cum deep into me as his cock twitched repeatedly.

Eventually, his movements stopped completely, and he slowly pulled out of me and walked towards his bathroom. When he returned, he came back with a towel and used it to help clean me up in silence while I caught my breath.

“I might be drunk,” He started, “But that was hot as fuck.” I laughed, holding my spinning head before sitting up. “We are never to speak of this again.” I said as I got to my feet to retrieve my underwear. “Sure sure…until the next time we do it right?” I rolled my eyes at his response and nudged his shoulder playfully. “Shut up. I need a shot, let’s go.” I headed for the door once he was fully clothed and together we began to climb the stairs. “How likely is it that everyone up here knows what we did?” I whispered to him as we neared the top. “Oh very likely, but who cares? It’s my birthday, so no judgments allowed.” He winked at me as we made it to the kitchen, where everyone’s eyes immediately landed on us.

“Oh god.” I muttered under my breath as I hurried over to Bree, who was smiling knowingly at me as she began pouring out two shots of tequila. “Please tell me one of these are mine.” I whispered to her, and she laughed. “It sure is. You have a good time down there?” She wiggled her eyebrows as she handed me a slice of lime. “If you really meant it when you said his dick was ‘nothing special’, then I’m gonna need the names and numbers of the guys you were ranking him against.” She tilted her head back and exploded into laughter before lifting her shot glass in the air and urging me to do the same. “You got it, babe. Just as soon as I get Matt to fall in love with me.” I laughed, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before raising my own glass. “Cheers!”

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[yeyinde]

ghoapxreader in the baby trapping series IM BEGGING 🧎‍♀️

i think i've exhausted the whole "tampering with contraceptives" thing to death by now so i would probably do something different with them. like a surrogate situation or something, but awful lmao

maybe down on her luck reader is in desperate need of cash, and these two men swoop in to save you from this horrible pit you've fallen into.

you need money. they need a baby.

simple, right?

except the simplicity falls apart when they blatantly tell you they want a natural insemination—as in, a threesome.

multiple, the pretty Scot tells you. after all, it has tae take, hen.

(and this is the part where you should have run. the moment when you'd be screaming at the television at the hapless protagonist as they walk mindlessly into danger despite the warning signs hanging overhead. but like the oblivious hero, you're too blinded by pretty, gleaming white to realise that the thing you're marveling over is a maw. cracked open wide and full of jagged, deadly teeth rearing up to sink inside of you.

but the problem with making shady deals when you're desperate is that no one really bothers to read the fine print, do they? and by the time you see past their crooked charm, you're waving your child off as they skip up the stairs to school, standing like a prisoner between them as they lean down and ask if you're ready for another—)

but that comes later.

what comes first is message on Craiglist.

one that you spend less time considering it than you should have. desperation, you find, clouds your judgement. blots out common sense. makes you susceptible to manipulation. and oh, how susceptible you are. despite priding yourself on your common sense and keen self-awareness, the overarching issues hanging over your head like an idling guillotine seem to erase that instructive need for self-preservation.

so, when the message itself pops up, you're already primed for making bad choices. ones out of malformed desperation. the barrage of texts from your landlord demanding rent, the ones sent to your family in moments of dire need asking for fruitless aid that will never come in time if the read receipts mean anything at all. the package from HR apologising for the inconvenience, but this was, regrettably, the only feasible option for the company at present, and too bad you didn't sign up for that union, huh? student loans. credit cards.

the measureable calamity of your life manifests itself in the shape of a black cloud hanging onto your aching shoulder, wrapping long, inkstained fingers around your jugular as it hisses the insurmountable figure needed to climb out of this pit in your ear.

sleepless, of course, hasn't helped.

and in that bog you can't swim through, their offer sounds far more appealing than it should.

let's meet up somewhere, comes the next message at half past three in the morning as you talk yourself in (and out) of this mess. talk about things more.

what else are you supposed to do?

job hunting sites mock you with their generic emails, thanking you for applying, and saying they'll reach out within a few business days for an interview if you're a good fit. ones sent off weeks ago. hundreds of them to no avail. it's almost like you're being plagued. blacklisted from the city.

even the fast food chain down the street refused your application when you sent it in, and the help wanted sign has been taped on the drive-thru window since you were sixteen.

it all pushes you closer and closer to making stupid choices, like replying with a simple (nervous, shaky, bile-tinged) sure to the message they sent. i'm down—

(—and drowning)

but you're smart enough to know better, so you act like it, too.

ping your location to your friends. tell them where you're going. clutch your keys so tightly in your fist that your knuckles just out through thin skin. layers upon layers of safety measures glimpsed through the various articles about how to stay alive.

but all the tremulous air is siphoned from your lungs when you see them for the first time.

something magnetic thrums through your chest. copper sutures running lines from their skin to yours until touching just seems like the most natural thing in the world. and you suppose it is when the pretty Scot folds you into a tight hug, cinching you close to his chest as if he's known you his whole life instead of just several seconds.

he's a thing of beauty. chiselled from marble, almost; David made human when he runs his tanned hand through the tumble of uneven hair along his crown. eyes the same varicoloured palette of a boscage in autumn framed in the setting sun's golden halo.

there's a distinct ruggedness about his beauty, too. one that reminds of you a lion's mane. the sleek fur of a stallion. pretty in a wild way. and as his eyes list towards you again and again, like he can't quite manage his fill of staring at you, taking you in, you think about that wildness again. the hunger in his eyes so similiar to the desperation of a predator fattening up for the encroaching chill of winter. it makes you shiver, but you can't look away

(because you know what's waiting for you when you do)

and when you finally pluck up the courage to glance at the shape devouring the light with his intimidating bulk, you come to quick realisation that if Johnny is the personification of an autumn evening, then the man standing next to him is the tried and true testament that bad things happen after dark.

he's a strange figure, one who veers almost comically into the uncanny valley with his hood pulled over the plain, black ballcap hanging low over his brow. a balaclava covering every inch of his face with the exception of a small, ovaled hole for his eyes. remnants of something ashy smear into the corners, running up the crooked bend of his nose.

he doesn't look like a real man—not with those liquid, haunting eyes—but at the same time, there's something preternaturally human about him. a stereotypical sense of masculinity—just one warped around the edges.

with his worn jeans pulled tight over thick, bulging thighs, and the silver zipper of his hoodie resting at the base of his throat, you could easily think he was just another man in the crowd, but it's off. a glitch. a skip.

like mistaking a coat rack for a man in the dead of night.

eerie.

dangerous.

if the man beside him is playfully carnivorous, a basking lion rolling onto his belly at the zoo, separated by thick glass, then he (Simon, Johnny supplies readily when the silence lingers; Simon Riley), Simon, is what it feels like to be followed home at night.

but—

there's something about fear and desire that are almost inseparable when broken down into a physiological response.

and when he steps up behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body soaking into the drying sweat on your back, you liken the way your heart climbs up your throat to same as it would seeing a dorsal fin cutting above the waves in open water.

desire, you think, and then catching the white-hot burn of the stare, you add, in a thin whisper: fear.

when they sit you down, and begin to spin a story about how they just want a baby—no strings attached—you stay seated in the chair even as an itch in the back of your head starts, nails scraping at your skull.

their reluctance toward traditional methods makes sense when they explain that with their lifestyle, it's impossible—or the Scottish man does; the other one with a marbled skin of thick, ugly scars on his hands just stares, pinning you down with the weight of his gaze—and this arrangement is the only way they'll get the baby they've been hoping for.

and even though the scratching in your head sounds suspiciously like why you and run, you eat the food they bought for you in the fancy restaurant where appetisers start at $30, and a glass of water is priced at $6. volcanic spring water, the waiter explains as he pours it from a marbled glass pitcher.

you haven't eaten a real meal that wasn't microwavable or cup noodles in weeks.

maybe that's why you find yourself thinking why not instead of no.

they're attractive men. it's not the worst situation you could have found yourself in, even if the idea of parenthood—however brief it's supposed to be—has bile clawing up the back of your throat, and the bones housing your trembling heart feeling laden, heavy like iron, and starts to cinch your chest shut each day, squeezing tighter, and tighter, and—

they drop off the first the installment to you the moment your doctor starts to talk about boerhaave syndrome, as if they know the doubts that plague your head when they leave your apartment and the silence starts to mock you.

and that leads you here.

guilt for their situation. desperation over your own. an overarching need to please. it's all a dangerous cocktail that douses over rationality until you're nodding along, accepting their words as gospel until sleeping with them—multiple times—doesn't seem like such a bad thing.

until it happens. until you have Johnny and Simon actively working to knock you up. a marathon of intense sex with the single-minded goal of putting their baby in you.

Johnny drooling all over you as he ruts between your thighs, mindlessly driving himself into a frenzy as he slurres out his desires in an incomprehensible mess of English and Gaelic and animalistic grunts. barely pulling out in time before Simon is pressing your knee down to the mattress, cooing mockingly at the mess his boy made of you. cruelly taking bets as he slides into your sore, aching cunt about who will take first. his or Johnny's? and who do you want, birdie? who's baby do you want first?

fingers always shoving inside to cap the overflow when they exhaust themselves in a liquid-limbed stupor, barely conscious as you tapped out some three, four rounds ago. unable to keep your eyes open any longer as they both came to the same conclusion that cumming inside of you at the same time was the quickest way to knock you up together. ain't he a romantic, birdie?

and it's probably for the best that you passed out before it happened, drooling on Simon's scarred shoulder as he gripped the cheeks of your ass, pulling you wide open as Johnny shuffled forward between his spread legs, eyes riveted to the spot where Simon's cock split you open. the ache you felt the next morning, coming to on a broad chest with fingers stuffed inside of you—shush, shush, just keeping you nice an' plugged, sweetheart—was almost unbearable.

you expected them to clear out after getting what they want, but they stay. tend to you carefully like you're made of fine china.

or—Johnny does. bundles you up in his arms before setting off towards the bath, finally letting you wash the sticky, flaking grime from your skin, some awful mixture of drying cum, spit, and sweat, groaning in your ear as he pulls you to his damp, hairy chest about how sweet you are for them. how they're going to take care of you.

Simon caters to other things. packs your bags as Johnny scrubs thick fingers over your shoulders, pausing to grasp a sore, tender breast in his palm, hefting the weight up as he feverishly mutters about how hot it'll be to watch you feed their baby. an' maybe you'll let him have a little taste, too—

and when you finally emerge from the bath, sorer between the thighs than you were when you woke up, another mess pooling in the gusset of the panties he pulled up your legs, Simon's waiting, eyes riveted to your belly. staring at it with so much hunger, a cold sweat breaks out along the nape of your neck.

in the grand scheme of things, the threesome is the easy part. the hard part comes when they turn the arrangement into a prison, locking the shackles around your wrists when the pregnancy test comes back positive a few weeks later.

they're only doing what's best for their baby, they say, when they move you out of your apartment and into theirs. the cut lease was the only way to do it, Johnny says, shrugging. why make you pay for something you aren't using anymore?

and maybe if your head was thickened with a fog, you'd have questioned the phrasing, but as it stands, pregnancy, even as early as this one, adles you. leaves you a syrupy mess of emotions that they take turns exploiting. aren't you so lonely all by yourself, hen? don' ye want a family?

aren't they good enough for you?

it's less subliminal messaging and more overt coersion. what are you going to do after this? where will you go with your lease cut? and when the funds run dry? what then?

gonna find another couple to knock you up? Simon hisses, mangled hands mauling your belly, pinching and squeezing the flesh as if he could feel the fragile box their happiness is housed inside. should jus' stay with us if that's the case, birdie.

but it's all so sweet, in its own way—

(—sweet like a parasite nesting inside of it's host.

but at least you'll never be lonely.)

they stand by the fact that they're looking out for you. that they care. that they can't do much else but idle and watch your body evolve into something new (an' magnificent, Johnny breathes, kissing this unfamiliar shape you call home) and it grates at them because they're not used to feeling so useless, so can't you just let them do this for you? take care of you in all the ways they see fit? like cutting your lease and giving you a better place to stay. handing in your resignation from that shitty nine to five that wore you down to the bone. culling out the annoyances in your life—the friends and family—who kick up needless fits over your wellbeing, and just stress you out more than you need to be.

they're not good enough for you, is what Simon says when you ask why he blocked them from your phone, Johnny hovering by the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. barring the exits, you'll realise later. but what comes first is fear, is anger, is—

happiness. maybe. or some broken, fragile facsimile of it. a subpar humuliculus masquerading around as if it was realised flesh and bone.

"oh," you say, and think you should be touched by his care, his concern, and so you are. shape this emotion from the sludge that pools at the bottom of your chest, running fingers through the muck to find pieces of gold. and then: "thank you, Simon."

it's sweet. or it could have been if it didn't spiral out of your control when they systematically dismantle your entire life until all you're left with is loose sediment slipping through your fingers. the foundation itself soften clay they shape into the image they've been after with the whole time: you.

(or more specifically, a momma for their baby.)

and when they ask you, at the end of this thin, fraying tether, if you want to be with them—an equal, a mother—and be a mother again for them, there's nothing else you could say except yes.

nothing because they made it so.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｔｏ ｌｏｖｅ ａ ｂｏｙ ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!joshua hong x chubby!fem!reader, best friend!hoshi, best friend!dk

♡ Genre: fluff/angst/smut

♡ Summary: Over the past year of being with your boyfriend you've grown close with his dearest friends. Something that he's always seemed happy about. That is until one night when he wakes up to find you hanging with two of his best friends when you should be lying in bed next to him. Joshua can't really be jealous over something so small, so absolutely innocent...right?

♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: jealousy/relationship insecurities, penetrative sex, fingering, overstimulation, creampie, a lil nipple play, possessiveness, pet names (baby), light dom/sub/switch dynamics if you squint, some thigh/ass slapping, fluffy love, & that's it, babes.

♡ A/N: This one is a request I got a little bit ago and I'm so happy to have finally finished it. I don't tend to get SVT x chubby reader fic requests so it was really nice to get one. Thank you to the sweetie of an anon who sent this in and was so patient with me getting this out. I hope you enjoy this my beautiful carat babes 💜

“DK, would you sit still? You’re gonna mess me up” you giggle, doing your best to apply false lashes to DK without poking one of his eyes out.

Seated on the edge of his bed, DK continues to do the exact opposite of what you’re begging him not to. “I am sitting still” he insists, flinching any time the lash even comes close to his eyelid. 

Over your shoulder a half awake Hoshi has a hand clasped over his mouth to quiet the laughter that has him turning red. Finally you get the lashes on, despite DK’s squirming, and you step back to admire your work.

DK bats his lashes, feeling prettier than any runway model, “Am I gorgeous or what?”

Hoshi collapses into laughter, his head falling on your shoulder as he wheezes, “This was the best idea ever. You look insane.”

“You shut up!” DK scolds, reaching for a pillow to no doubt knock the life out of Hoshi with. 

You stop him just in time, grabbing the pillow and holding it tight to you like a prized plushie. “Ignore him” you say, delicate fingers tilting his cheek, “I happen to think you look beautiful.” And you aren’t lying to him. You hate to toot your own horn but you’re pretty good with a brush and the makeup you’ve done on him suits him well. Subtle lipstick, flawless wingtip liner, and the slightest bit of blush to brighten up his face. 

Proud as you may be of the outcome, none of this was your idea to begin with. This all started when you found yourself tossing and turning at 2 in the morning. You’d tried every trick in the book to fall asleep but your restless mind wouldn’t let you. Not wanting to interrupt the boyfriend snoozing peacefully beside you, you wandered out into the kitchen in search of snacks. 

You navigated the halls quietly, not wanting to wake the rest of the house, only to stumble upon DK and Hoshi already in the kitchen. It turns out you weren’t the only one struggling to get to sleep tonight. Figuring there was no use climbing back in bed to suffer alone, the three of you made your way back to DK’s room, snacks in hand, and decided to play a late night game of Truth or Dare. And for poor DK this is how things ended up. Well, maybe not so poor DK. He seems to be as amused with it as you and Hoshi are. When people talk about “core memories” that’ll stick with you forever this will definitely be one for you. 

It was intimidating when you and Joshua first started dating. Naturally you want your boyfriend’s best friends to like you but “best friends” usually consists of 5 people at best. Not 12 unhinged men with a lifelong bond that makes them protect each other more like brothers than friends. You still remember the first time that you met them. Every week the boys gather at their favorite restaurant for dinner to catch up on things. It’s usually reserved strictly for them but Joshua decided to invite you this time around, insisting that the guys would love you. You spent every day leading up to that dinner worried out of your mind. Standing here now with DK and Hoshi you can’t imagine how you were ever nervous about meeting them. They’re so sweet. So harmless. 

“What are you doing?” Joshua asks, drawing your attention to the doorway where he stands, arms folded across his chest. Joshua’s always so soft spoken, it’s one of the many things you find so charming about him. Not once in your relationship have you heard him raise his voice so the added bass in his question makes you short circuit. 

“I…I couldn’t sleep” you stutter, smiling nervously, “So we were playing Truth or Dare and…”

DK smiles at Joshua, trying to maintain the upbeat mood, “I chose ‘dare’.”

Joshua responds with a frown, charging over and snatching you away from Hoshi. “You’re a little too close don’t you think?”

“We were just hanging out,” Hoshi says, his joy deflated by his best friend’s anger. It’s an anger he isn’t used to. An anger none of you are used to. The only person who seems to know where it’s coming from is Joshua and even he’s a bit thrown off by how strongly he feels. 

“Right, well, she’s done hanging out now” Joshua says, turning to DK, “And I’d appreciate you not having my girlfriend in your bedroom in the middle of the night anymore.”

“Shua!” you gasp at the insinuation of his words but there’s no time for you to protest, he’s already locking his fingers with yours, dragging you out into the hallway. 

The short trip back to his bedroom is plagued by a tense silence that only breaks when you’re behind closed doors. “Don’t do that again” Joshua forbids, his back resting against the door. 

“Don’t do what? You heard Hoshi. We were just hanging out."

“Well I don’t want you hanging out with them. Every time I turn around you’re with Vernon or Seungcheol or Hoshi. I can’t even sleep without one of them stealing…” Joshua pauses, choking on that last word. Stealing. He doesn’t mean that. Actually, he does. He only wishes that he didn’t.

“Tell me you don’t seriously think I’d cheat on you, Shua” you laugh as if it’s the silliest thing in the world because it is. You await his answer, anything to tell you that he’s joking, but you’re left with a silence that cements for you that he isn’t. “You know what, if that’s how you feel then maybe I should go.”

Too angry to even look at him, you grab your backpack from a nearby chair and begin to gather your things. It’s the middle of the night and he’s the one who drove you here but you’d rather walk home than sit around and be accused of something like this. You’d think that after a year of being together, after all you’ve gone through, he’d know how much you loved him. But clearly you thought wrong and the truth of that hurts.

Joshua can see it painted all over you and hurting you is the last thing he ever wants to do. “Please, just stop for a minute” he begs, taking your phone from your hand the second you pick it up. 

You snatch it back, ready to get out of here before someone else wakes up and he accuses you of trying to sleep with them too. “I don’t wanna hear anything else you have to say.” 

You maneuver around him to grab your hoodie from the bed when he swoops in behind you, locking his arms around your waist. He flops down on the edge of the bed, his feet firmly planted on the ground, refusing to let you go. You fight to twist your body free, fueling yourself with every bit of anger you feel towards him right now, but it isn’t enough. 

“Let me go” you demand but it only makes him hold you tighter.  

“Only if you let me say something. One thing and then I’ll let you go” he promises, “I’ll even let you take my car.”

It’s your instinct to be petty. Why should you let him get a word in when he’s said enough already? But that walk home is pretty long and you don’t really feel like hopping in a stranger's Uber this late at night.

“Fine” you huff, “Say what you have to say and then give me the keys.” 

“Look, I know you’d never cheat on me, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I’m jealous!” he admits, feeling equal parts embarrassed and relieved at his confession. “Minghao’s all zen and chill, Woozi’s this super cool producer, DK’s funny as fuck, Mingyu’s buff, and Vernon’s got that whole mysterious thing going on. Everyone has this thing to impress you with and what do I have? I’m afraid that the more time you spend with them the less I’ll be able to keep up. I don’t want you to get bored with me.”

You want to stay mad at him, you deserve to be for the way he acted, but it breaks your heart to know he feels this way. You can’t help but soften at the sadness in those brown eyes usually alight with so much happiness. Letting your backpack fall to the floor, you’re able to turn just enough to face him. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, trying not to lose it at the cute pouty face he’s making.

“I adore you but you’re being insane right now. I could never get bored with you, Shua. I don’t give a shit about how buff or funny or mysterious some other guy is. None of them are you and you are the only man I want in this whole world. Can you trust that?”

Joshua’s almost ashamed at how easily his insecurities are soothed by your words. For weeks he’s been holding onto these feelings, wishing he knew how to make them go away, and all along what he needed was your validation—to simply hear you swear to him that he’s enough.

“I can if you can forgive me for being an asshole” he says, easing his grip on you, now at least somewhat confident that you won’t run away. 

“Mmm, I don’t know” you sigh, chewing at your lower lip in contemplation, “I feel like I wasn’t mad at you long enough.” 

Joshua laughs, kissing you under your chin so lightly that it tickles, “Fine, stay mad at me a little longer then. I’ll just be here trying to make it up to you. Tell me when you’re done, okay?”

Parting his lips, he drags them down the softness of your chin, trailing sweet, open mouthed kisses down your neck. He rests his palms at the center of your back, smoothing them down and around to rest at your plush hips. He massages them, rocking you in his lap just enough to grind up against you. The barrier of his sweatpants and your shorts do little to stop the friction from sending a tingling sensation to your core.

You swallow hard, feeling your body flush with heat. You try your hardest to resist him, to pretend that some part of you is still upset, but how can you possibly hold that look of annoyance when he’s pushing your t-shirt up, his fingertips gently tracing the contours of your curves. “For the record, I am sorry” he says, tugging your shirt up over your head.

By the time the fabric comes to rest on the floor his lips are already skimming your breasts, his tongue teasing your sensitive buds through the lace of your bra. A hand ventures behind your back and the clasp of your bra snaps free, the straps dropping from your shoulders. You let out a gasp bordering on a moan and his lips curve into a smile at the sound of it. He’s enjoying this just as much as you are. Maybe even a little more.

Tossing your bra aside, he captures one of your pillowy breasts in his mouth, suckling at the bud as his tongue makes perfect figure eights around it. The pleasure it sends rushing through you has you tangling your fingers in the soft strands of his dark brown hair, your body arching with every flick of his tongue.

Slipping an arm around your waist and tucking a hand behind the band of your shorts, he lifts you up, laying you back on the bed. The second your head hits the pillow you’re biting your lip to choke back moans at his fingers dragging through your slick folds to stimulate your clit. He dips between your legs, using his free hand to tear your panties and shorts off at once. His fingers skate down to your dripping entrance, hovering there a moment to let him admire how wet you are.

Joshua goes all starry eyed at the arousal that leaks from you when his fingers sink into your core. And those sounds you make, those sugary little whimpers, have his cock straining against his sweatpants. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he groans, his gaze dancing back up to take in those gorgeous faces you make, “And you’re all mine, aren’t you?” 

He curls his fingers against the spongy texture of your walls, rotating his wrist at in a motion so heavenly you’re on the verge of drooling. You’re too lost in ecstacy—too busy riding his fingers to speak a word. Joshua grips your belly, pinning you down to the bed, his fingers pounding mercilessly into your needy core.

“I want you to answer me, baby, so everyone can hear you. You’re mine, aren’t you? Hmm?”

“Yes, I’m…I’m yours” you stutter, grabbing for his wrist. The feeling’s too intense, you can hardly keep still. Your heart’s racing in your chest. You want more but you fear you’ll lose your mind if it goes on like this. He’s working your sweet spot like only he knows how and you can already feel yourself coming undone. 

Joshua climbs on top of you, kissing his way up your belly, between your breasts, all the while fucking his fingers into you without missing a beat. His lips ghost yours, parting them to taste the moans that spill out. “Louder” he whispers and adds another finger, making you feel so much fuller than before. 

“I’m yours, Shua! All yours! Nobody else’s! N…nobody’s” you cry out, your moans as melodic as his favorite song.

“That’s my girl. Always so good for me” he coos, stealing your breath with a kiss laced with enough passion that you’d swear you were floating. 

If your lips were free, if your tongue weren’t fiercely tangled with his, you might spill a few broken moans out to let him know how close you are but Joshua doesn’t need your words, your body speaks for itself. The trembling of your jaw. The arching of your back. The way your walls are fluttering around his fingers, clenching tighter each time.

Reaching his thumb up, he presses it to your clit, rubbing it faster and faster until your screams fill his cheeks and your juices gush around his fingers. “Shua, mmm, oh god” you gasp, your fingers knotted in the fabric of his shirt. “I need you.” Tearing his shirt off, you summon what minimal strength you have in your weakening limbs to force him onto his back. You crawl on top of him, straddling his lap, and the room begins to spin. Maybe you made that move a little sooner than you should’ve. 

Joshua giggles at the slight sway in your movements before you collapse onto his chest, looking up at him with glossy eyes. He cups your cheek, brushing away the hair sticking to your flush cheeks. “How’d I get a girl who’s this cute all the time?”

You place your palms flat on his chest, pushing yourself back up just enough to hover over him. “Because you’re this cute all the time” you say, smiling down at the handsome man beneath you, “It’s like we were, I don’t know, made for each other or something.”

Joshua pulls his pants down, careful not to disturb your position. He likes you right where you are. His cock springs free, rubbing against your still sensitive pussy as it comes to rest between your legs, the tip of his cock wet with arousal. “Made for each other” he muses, lifting you up and slowly lowering you down onto his cock, teasing himself with the warmth of your core. “I like that.”

“Me, aah, too” you moan, your nails pressing into the bare skin of his chest enough to leave tiny indents behind.

The fullness from his fingers was one thing but it’s nothing compared to the fullness you experience when his cock’s deep inside of you, stretching you deliciously from all angles. You meant what you said when you called him insane. How could a man who looks this hot with a cock this nice ever think you’d look at someone else for a second? 

Sitting back you rotate your hips in a circular motion, alternating side to side, and your walls are just clinging to his cock as it pulses against them. You run your fingers down Joshua’s stomach, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. He tries to keep his eyes open because he wants to watch you—needs to see you riding his cock, your body jiggling with every movement—but his lids are growing heavy already. The pleasure hits him, wave after unforgiving wave, and all he can do is take it. 

Leaning forward, you take him by the chin, tempting him with a kiss that you ultimately deprive him of. “Now you say it” you whisper, rolling your hips to make him whimper the way he did you. You pick up speed and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. 

“Say what? Fuck, I’ll say anything you want me to say” he moans, his palms crashing into your thighs with a snap that makes them vibrate around him. 

“Say that you’re mine, all mine, so that everyone can hear.” 

The light in his eyes darkens at your request and he throws his arms around you, positioning himself at just the right angle to thrust into you. This was supposed to be your power position but he has you held tightly again, fucking into you so that you bounce up and down in his lap, the swollen head of his cock leaking deep inside of you.

“I’m yours,” he says loudly, fearlessly, “I’m yours, this cock is yours, so take me. Take it.” 

Every thrust echoes through your body. You can feel it in the tips of your fingers and your toes, taste it on the back of your tongue. It’s like heaven. Your hips are still working, eager to swallow every inch of his length, desperate to match the intensity of every thrust. The friction between you bumps your clit and the overstimulation has your body humming. You’re struggling to keep it together, fighting back the high that so badly wants to overtake you.

Joshua steals the kiss that you denied him, grabbing the soft flesh of your ass. “No holding back. Cum with me, baby.” 

As if on command, because that’s exactly what it is, you surrender, letting your high crash into you for a second time. It’s even more devastating this time around with his cock swelling inside of you, filling your walls to the brim with warm, thick ropes of cum. You’re both completely out of it, your limbs turning to jello, but you’re too greedy to stop until your bodies give out, absolutely forcing you to.

Breathless, Joshua pets your back, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. You look up at him with the brightest eyes, like he’s the very center of your universe, like there’s no one else in the world who can come close, and his heart skips a beat. You do soothe his insecurities. He does need your validation and that’s okay because he knows he’ll have it always and forever. 

[ikeuverse]

LOVE SHOT — p.jongseong

PAIRING: cop!jay x investigator fem!reader  GENRES: fluff, humor, slight (really light) angst  WC: 9.7k+

WARNINGS: some cursing, mention of betrayal, a slight brawl near the end. nothing to worry about, but let me know if i've forgotten anything else.

SYNOPSIS: after being betrayed, jay was never able to fall in love with anyone again, even more so in his work environment. but that thought would not remain the moment he laid eyes on you, entering the meeting room as his new work partner in the investigations.

NOTES: i didn't want to focus so much on professions or the work environment itself, but i wanted something out of the ordinary (offices or coffee shops) and i thought of something more humorous, apart from the betrayal part, of course. idk if i'm 100% satisfied with this story, but all feedback is appreciated. i hope you like it!

masterlist

Working can be both tiring and rewarding. Tiring because you put in hours – sometimes a few extra – a day throughout the week. Rewarding because you get paid for it and often end up enjoying what it can bring you.

Jay believed that work went much further than that. Being in the police force for eight years had its good and bad sides, and he couldn't romanticize something that, time and again, took his mind off things.

The good side: he applied to join the police at the end of university, as a joke with his best friend – who ended up applying three days after him – and guess what? They both got in. The aptitude test was positive and all they had to do was accept that they now had a job. You wouldn't want to throw away the years you spent studying for something that had nothing to do with the police, but after a few years, the rewards came.

For his excellent performance, still on the good side of his job, being promoted to head of special operations was something Jay never thought he'd do. Perhaps Jake, his best friend, was better suited to it. He was stronger, more agile, and had certainly been on more missions than Jay himself.

Don't belittle your achievements, Jake told him with a huge smile, content with his position as deputy boss. Because the two had always been a duo since they joined, it wouldn't be fair for Jay to move up and leave his friend behind.

But not everything could be described as a good thing, after all, there is a bit of negativity in all of this. Not just because he works to combat bad things. That was the least of the problems at the police station. But because Jay knew that being in that environment would make him experience everything intensely.

Downside: getting involved with a coworker.

Where's the downside, Jongseong? As it was easy to remember the good things, the bad things came just as easily.

Like the greatest romance cliché, Jay liked the girl straight away. Her light hair and easy smile for anyone in the department made him smile too. But it wasn't just the smile that ended up being easy. Jay had to find out the hard way, dating for three months and a week before learning of his long-awaited promotion.

Everyone at the police station knew about Jay and Yuri, the criminal cases clerk. She had joined almost a year ago, attracting the attention of some of the police officers she worked with. It was normal, after all, Yuri was pretty, and practically all the women – and there weren't many of them – who worked at the police station were pretty.

"Maybe that's a requirement for working here," Sunoo joked once in the café when Yuri walked past them.

"Or maybe they put pretty girls to the test," Heeseung, an investigator and friend of the boys, suddenly hummed.

Jay laughed, knowing that his friends were too stupid. Or maybe they were right.

But apart from being pretty, Yuri didn't really like Jay. Or he thought of that possibility as soon as he saw her with her tongue down the throat of a policeman he didn't even know, doing each other in the break room on a shift when he was supposed to be at home.

That's why she was there with another man. Yuri knew Jay's routine, and going to the break room at a time when he wasn't at the police station would be perfect for no one to catch them.

But Jay had forgotten his coat the night before and needed to put his uniform in the wash. He didn't like leaving clothes hanging and dirty.

My coat saved me from the worst, he thought as he took a long stride out of the room, leaving under the shouts of Yuri calling his name.

"Jay, wait!" she gasped, running to him as the boy rushed down the stairs.

He almost jumped down two steps at once but stopped himself because he didn't want to twist his foot or hurt himself. So he tried to go as fast as he could until he felt Yuri's hands on his arm.

"What do you want?" he asked in a string of voices, holding back all his anger so as not to shout at her.

Firstly because they were on the stairs and it would make a huge echo, and secondly because Jay, even if he was nervous, would never shout at a woman. Even if she deserved it.

"It's not… No…"

"Don't tell me it's not what I think, because I saw it" that tone sent a chill down anyone's spine. Both Yuri and the people at the police station had only ever seen Jay talk like that in some negotiation – almost non-negotiable – or with some guy who challenged the battalion they worked in.

"This is all your fault" she said after a while when she saw that Jay wasn't saying anything, now seeing the horrified expression on his face "You're too focused on the job and…"

"Because I'm paid to do that, Yuri" he interrupted her "Not to mention that we work in the same environment, we see each other every day" Jay took a few steps towards her, tilting his face so that it was level with his – now ex – girlfriend "And I've always taken time out, in all my breaks, to see you. So what's my fault that you cheated on me right under my nose?"

Silence. One sigh, two, three.

Jay knew that was the cue to leave, so, disengaging Yuri's hand from his arm, he left as hurriedly as he had before.

And that had been the last conversation he had with his ex before, a week later, he learned of his promotion to boss.

Jay didn't want people to feel sorry for him or treat him differently after what had happened. For a long time, he had to deal with painful looks in his direction, and sometimes his colleagues wanted to drag him to some dance club to try and forget what had happened.

The only one who understood was Jake. Being in the same office as his best friend helped him keep his sanity when someone made some kind of comment, even if it wasn't a mean one, about what had happened.

It lasted a couple of months and he wanted to punch himself for ranting and hinting that something had happened. But as soon as his relationship became known, he knew that the break-up and betrayal would go the same way.

"People are giving her the stink eye right now" Sunoo walked into the special operations unit room, poking Jake in the head and then walking over to Jay, handing him a cup of coffee.

"No coffee for me?" Jake muttered quietly, grimacing and running over to Jay to sip his drink, knowing that his best friend wasn't in the mood for it.

"I didn't want any of this" Jay sighed, wiping his hands across his face in exhaustion.

"Sure, who wants to be betrayed?" Jake dodged another nudge from Sunoo, grabbing his coffee cup and heading over to his table.

"What I mean is…" he sighed, ignoring Jake who continued humming as he sipped the hot liquid, working wonders on his system because he really needed some caffeine "Yuri's reputation was tarnished after that, even Liam's."

"Liam?" Jay frowned.

"The policeman… You know…" Sunoo scratched the back of her head and tried her best to smile. Not that she wanted to smile at the situation, but maybe she wanted to reassure Jay a little.

It was only then that the boy realized. Liam was the one with Yuri, the policeman Jay had seen making out with his ex-girlfriend in the break room.

He didn't even want to know anything about the guy: his name, who he was, what position he was in. He could only tell that he was a policeman by his clothes, but for the rest, Jay tried to push it out of his mind and even walked away when someone brought it up. He only found out because Sunoo had said it out loud.

"Well, may he do well, then" Jay got up from his chair when the alarm went off, indicating that they needed to be in the meeting room to organize strategies for a new case.

Passing Jake's desk, he took the cup from his best friend's hand – halfway, thankfully – and drank the rest of the coffee.

"Hey!" Jake protested.

"It was meant for me, asshole" Jay cursed and laughed when the other tried to say something else, but got up and walked along with Sunoo behind Jay.

The three of them headed towards the huge room and entered. They weren't the first because Heeseung was already there, his typical tired smile indicating that he had just woken up. Maybe he'd been at the police station all night to sort something out.

"I think someone needs coffee too" Jake hummed.

"Go and get it, since you've had all my coffee" Jay said.

"I was doing you a favor" that funny little discussion was typical of almost every day. Because of Jay and Jake's intimacy and because the department was so heavy, funny energy was always a good way to get work done.

Gradually the room filled up, Jay's people came in and greeted the head and deputy head. Waving to Sunoo and Heeseung too.

When everyone was properly positioned, like a regular meeting, the chief of the police station greeted them and began to pass on some instructions and changes in some cases.

It wasn't often that he tinkered much with Jay's department, being one of the few who managed to play the role straight without too many changes. But Park, like a good boss, knew he was having a bit of trouble accessing information for a new case.

So when the station boss called his name, the boy straightened up in his chair and sniffled.

"Yes, boss" Jay greeted the gray-haired man, receiving a smile in response.

"I've been thinking and I want to know if you mind changing a few things in your case" he stood, resting one hand on the table while the other was in the holster at his waist.

"Of course not, boss, whatever you think is best."

The man nodded positively, looking at Heeseung this time.

"I thought I'd put some investigators on your case, you know, gather information" that was brilliant, considering that Jay was on a high-risk case. Where he needed to know more about people until he got to the main suspect – and criminal – in fact.

Heeseung seemed surprised, having never thought of working directly with special ops personnel where he only heard Jay and Jake's crazy stories. It sounded pretty exciting.

"But I think Heeseung alone would be too little for the size of your case, guys" Heeseung just agreed with his boss, knowing that he couldn't do it alone either "So I took the liberty of calling in two other people, if that's okay with you."

"That's fine with me" Jay smiled quickly.

He couldn't count how long he was paralyzed between the police chief calling in the new people to work on his case and the moment his eyes landed on you.

The dark uniform, the shiny badge hanging around your neck, and the most captivating smile Jay had ever seen in his life. Strangely, he felt elated when you looked at him, holding his gaze and waving to greet him.

"This is Y/n, deputy boss of investigations. And Stella, the boss of the department" the gray-haired man introduced, and just hearing Jay's name was worth a lot.

Stella talked all the time about how she and her department would contribute to the operation, Heeseung did a great job of adding some information along with his boss while talking to the special ops men.

But not Jay. He just didn't know what to say. It was as if he felt like a teenager again, unable to utter a single word in front of the most beautiful girl in school.

"Right" Jake noticed his best friend's pause, holding back a smile because it would be used against him a few minutes later "Jay and I are happy about the addition to our team. We're going to work very well together and I think a team of investigators would be perfect. Welcome."

After the thanks, Jake asked some of his boys to go over what progress they had made so far with the new team of investigators. You and Stella followed him, while the people in the room gradually dissipated until Jay, Jake, Sunoo and Heeseung were left.

"We have to go too, don't we?" Jay stood up.

"Oh, now he's learned to talk again" Sunoo joked.

"What?" Jay's eyes widened as he heard the other three burst into laughter.

"Dude, you froze when y/n walked in" Heeseung held in his laughter so he could finish his sentence.

"Me? Of course not."

"I had to introduce you, you couldn't even say your name" Jake pushed Jay's body as he stood up, leaning on the table and grinning mischievously "So that's her?"

"That's her? Her what?" Jay looked at the three of them, one at a time, receiving knowing looks from his friends.

"Who's going to make you dismantle that barrier you've created in your heart."

Jay hated how direct Sunoo was with his words. He didn't hate it completely, because he knew that Jake said things slowly, testing the waters, while Sunoo got straight to the point and didn't beat around the bush. Heeseung was more of a moral supporter, always trying to see the bright side of things and, even if he didn't, the boy made a good point about it.

"She's kind and very beautiful" Heeseung said, wrapping his arm around Jay's shoulders "Not to mention that she loses bets easily and gives a sensational shoulder massage."

"What? You…" Jake walked into his and Jay's living room, awestruck by Heeseung's words.

Jay didn't want to be disappointed at the thought of Heeseung's closeness to you, but he felt like a complete idiot for thinking that way when he had only known you for less than twenty minutes.

"We're very good friends, just like you, Jake and Sunoo" he was the last to enter, disengaging his arm from Jay's shoulder to close the door and sit down on the small dark leather sofa.

"Tell us more about it" Sunoo asked, and Jay was grateful for the directness as he didn't want to seem desperate for information.

He didn't even know why he was so intrigued by you.

Heeseung didn't mince his words when he started telling about the first time he met you and Stella. He had joined the police force in almost the same year as Jay and Jake. Eight years in one environment was a long time, and a year and a half later you were both there, in the same department as him. Completely out of place because you were the only women and investigators.

Of course, there was a bit of prejudice from other people and even a certain masked machismo, but not with Heeseung. He had been the only one to talk to them, to ask them to lunch.

"Oh, that's why you canceled a few lunches with us" Jake recalled.

Continuing the story in which he had been entertained, seeing the attention of the three in front of him, Heeseung sat down a little more comfortably on the sofa to finish speaking.

Those years of being friends with the only women in the department had made Heeseung work hard, include his friends in any case he entered and, without a doubt, ask them for their opinion. To show that they were just as capable as he was.

It was no wonder that, three years later, Stella was being appointed boss of the investigation department. A change here and there removed the former male boss from his post, and the police station apologized for the whole thing because there were too many departments to manage and they were sorry that someone from their building had been through so much bad stuff.

"Did you want to be boss?" Jay asked.

"Not in a million years" Heeseung replied quickly, "I'm not good at it."

"What do you mean?"

Sunoo knew what he meant, but it was funny to remember Heeseung's antics in the police force. Like when he almost broke your arm, when you two went after a case to investigate and he tripped over his own feet running after the suspect. Not realizing that you were so close that he fell on top of you.

Or when he doused the micro camera from another mission, costing thousands just for that investigation, an expensive piece of equipment that the head of the police station shelled out for just so they could have such excellent materials to capture the suspect.

Heeseung was content with his fumbles and also knew that it was a lot of responsibility, he was happy with his position.

"What about the deputy boss?" Jay didn't even bother to ask anymore since all his friends were too curious for that.

"Don't be fooled, she's just as clumsy as I am" Heeseung laughed "But y/n investigated that serial killer last year, it gave her a lot of visibility" he remembered sleepless nights helping his friend with the case. He'd dropped out at first because he'd been recruited for something else, but when he had time off, he ended up helping "She asked me to be the deputy boss, but I got scared of the title and ended up almost fainting at the appointment meeting."

"Heeseung" Jake swallowed back a laugh, closing his eyes as he shrugged.

"Huge positions make me nervous, I'm sorry" he apologized, making himself comfortable on the sofa in Jay and Jake's living room "But it's good that the two people they despised the most just for being women are now heads of the department" he smiled genuinely happy "And I'm one position below y/n, my salary is higher than all those idiots."

At least there was something good that Heeseung hadn't been nervous about, he could handle a good amount – almost triple – his old salary and still be close to the two women from the start.

"Okay, now talk about the massage or Jay will explode" Sunoo ordered after a while, seeing that his friend was restless in his chair. Jay hated being so expressive like that or that his friends knew him so well.

He rolled his eyes, ready to refute what Sunoo had said when Heeseung started talking.

"Me and y/n live off bets. Whether it's our cases or those of other colleagues" he closed his eyes, sighing a little as tiredness began to take over his body. "So if she loses, she's obliged to massage my shoulders for a week. And if I lose, I'll buy her lunch for a week."

"That sounds like…" Sunoo began.

"Cool. Shall we do it?" Jake turned to Jay, seeing him roll his eyes.

"I wouldn't massage your shoulders," he retorted.

"But you'd let y/n do it on you?"

Yes. He bit his tongue to answer, almost letting it slip without thinking.

Heeseung laughed when he opened his eyes and saw Jay's mental dilemma between answering or not.

The boss of the department also started to feel bad, as if he was invading something that Heeseung seemed to have built up with you, after all, the two of you seemed very close.

Jay didn't realize he'd been rambling on for too long, only realizing when Heeseung was standing in front of him, snapping his fingers to get his attention. Jake and Sunoo had already left the room, probably going to get some coffee or pick up something about the case they had to work on.

"Relax, dude" Heeseung commented as soon as Jay stood up, walking out of the room beside him.

"What about?" he asked, not knowing why his tone was hesitant.

"Y/n is my best friend" he said simply, having Jay's eyes fixed on his face the whole time he spoke, "And she's also the one responsible for getting me together with Stella."

"Oh" was all he managed to say. Jay hadn't noticed, no one had.

Either Heeseung and Stella were extremely professional, or Jay was so intrigued to know about you that if his friend had said something about his girlfriend, he didn't pay attention.

"My relationship with y/n could be the same as the one you'll have with Stella if you start a relationship with her best friend" he let slip, laughing at Jay's expression. He hadn't said anything and his friends were already thinking about a relationship? "Don't worry, I approve of you two dating."

Arriving at the coffee shop, Heeseung ran up to his two friends, who were already ordering the coffee they were all drinking together.

With no chance to reply, Jay stood there for long minutes thinking about everything that had happened that day.

He had met one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen in his life, if not the most beautiful. He had learned that Heeseung was dating her and, what's more, his best friend was the one who had been making him think for so long.

A woman, in his workplace, making his heart race. Something he swore would never happen again.

You knowing a little more about Jay – beyond what was circulating around the police station – was a sign that he also knew about you, even more so when Heeseung said some qualities or even the way you two exchanged glances the first time you met in that meeting room, almost a month ago.

You were the cupid for Heeseung and Stella's relationship, and now you were sure that your friend was trying to do the same thing with you and Jay.

"No one told you to say out loud that the head of special operations was hot" Stella whispered, biting into the snack she had brought because today was going to be a busy day, with no chance of lunch in the refectory.

"I thought you and I were the only ones in the room" you tried to defend yourself, remembering the exact moment when you sighed and said how hot Jay was. Heeseung entered a few seconds earlier, without making a fuss, hearing exactly the moment when you almost whimpered.

Of sure he pestered you for weeks before he started talking to you a bit more about Jay.

"All right, all right" Stella finished, "but you know Hee's only trying to help."

"Hee" you rolled your eyes, making your best friend laugh. Your relationship with Heeseung was almost like big brother and little sister. You felt like Stella was your sister-in-law.

"Hey, girls" Heeseung waved from the door of the investigation office.

"Speaking of the devil" you smiled falsely, unwrapping your snack just as your friend walked in, muttering some swear words at you as he made his way over to Stella's desk.

The smack of lips from the two of them kissing made you sigh at how cute they were, but as soon as Heeseung's eyes met yours, you faked a vomiting noise just to pick on him.

"Put down your snacks, we're going to lunch" he said, holding Stella's sandwich halfway and pulling it away from her hands.

"We don't have time, love. Me and y/n have a lot to do before we meet the operations staff…"

"Exactly" Heeseung smiled at his girlfriend "Let's have lunch with them and go straight to the office, we have a lot of work."

After the end of the sentence Heeseung immediately looked in her direction. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he raised his eyebrows at you.

Did he plan that? Lunch with the special ops guys meant lunch with Jay. And you felt embarrassed enough that your friend had caught you confessing that the head of another department was hot. Looking at him and having lunch with him wasn't on your mind, at least not until this case was over.

"I don't think so" you said.

"Come on, y/n, let's go" Heeseung asked, pouting. He knew it wouldn't convince you, especially coming from him, but trying was always an option for the boy "Jay asked you to go."

You knew he hadn't asked you to do anything, Heeseung had just said that to see if you'd cheer up and, in the worst or best case scenario, he and Stella's thoughts about you being into Jay could have been right. He was, but you wouldn't say anything until then.

"Stella" you called out to your friend, who was already packing up to leave the room. In defeat, you got up from your desk and tidied up before joining the couple "Do you mind being widowed early? I think I'm going to kill your boyfriend."

Heeseung's hysterical scream echoed down the corridor, and no one thought it strange since this was the two of you's relationship there. People got so used to laughing with you and him that it was strange the other way around. When you or Heeseung were too serious, not joking or shouting around. The head of the police station even thanked you for bringing a little joy to such a chaotic environment.

As soon as they arrived at the refectory, it was relatively crowded and not very surprising, given that it was the exact time that almost all the departments were there.

Heeseung spotted the table where the other three friends were sitting and waved to get their attention. With his free hand, he intertwined his fingers with Stella's to lead the way and walk with the two of you to the rest of the people.

"You really did it" Sunoo applauded as soon as the three of you reached the table "He said it would be almost impossible to get you two out of that room."

"Considering he almost stole our snack" you commented.

"I'm going to expose you" Heeseung hissed.

"Fuck off" you said in the same tone.

The laughter was contagious as the two of you started talking, while you realized that Heeseung had already reserved a seat for him and Stella next to Jake, leaving only one seat between Jay and Sunoo.

I'll kill you.

You son of a bitch.

I hate you.

There were a few curses that you uttered silently, just moving your lips as you went around the table to sit between the two men.

Heeseung, holding back his laughter, sat down to in front of Sunoo.

"Shall we wait for the line to shorten and get lunch?" Stella asked.

"Or we could go in threes to save our table too" Sunoo said.

"Good idea" Heeseung nodded "Can it be me, Stella, and Jay?"

"Sure, go ahead" Jake replied, waving to the three of them who were getting up.

Jay tried his best not to look tense as you sat down next to him, noticing the look on his face as soon as he stood up. It was infectious, so he smiled as soon as you smiled back as a small greeting before he joined Heeseung and Stella for the lunch line.

"You know" Jake leaned across the table, catching your eye until you finally looked at him and stopped staring at Jay, "I think you two are cute."

"What?" you widened your eyes.

Sunoo laughed, wanting to hit Jake, but he was too far away for that.

"I don't know, I think you and Jay would be cute together" he was playing with the wrapper of something, probably the straw from the empty coffee cup in front of him "and since I'm his best friend, I approve of that."

"Heeseung and you are up to something, right?" your eyes narrowed, making Jake mimic the act and then laugh a little.

"Those two are idiots, y/n. Don't mind them" Sunoo touched your shoulder so gently that you turned to him, smiling in appreciation "But you two are really cute."

"I was starting to like you" your eyes now narrowed at Sunoo, who was laughing just like Jake a few minutes earlier.

The three of you got into a completely different conversation after that, talking about other police departments and what you would do if you had never joined the police.

That made for a good few minutes of conversation until Jay, Heeseung and Stella came back with trays of food. Then it was time for you three to go. Grateful that it hadn't taken too long – and that there was fruit salad – you and Sunoo grabbed two containers each, celebrating that you now had a friend who loved fruit salad too. None of the others would take that salad and you didn't know how, loving that the same indignation was shared by Sunoo.

"Now we can eat just the two of us" he whispered before returning to the table.

In another conversation, now completely different and without provocation, you noticed that Jay's laughter was contagious. His gaze was much more fixed on you than on anyone else at the table, but the atmosphere was so pleasant that you were no longer embarrassed to have to look at him so closely. Or to feel his hand brushing lightly against yours a few times when the two of you went to get something from the tray to eat because you were sitting next to each other.

For Jay, after years, that feeling was rediscovered. He thought he was rusty, worn out from feeling something good romantically or even in the form of interest in someone. But not when you talked so animatedly, or with the swearing at Heeseung while he stole some fries from your tray.

Jay didn't have time to experience this feeling with Yuri because she didn't care much for Jay's friendships, not even Jake whom he had known since high school.

Yuri seemed to want to deprive him of some things even though they had only been together for a short time.

Don't call them haunts, they'll show up, Jay thought to himself as soon as he looked up, two tables away. Yuri was staring at him fervently, looking as if her face was red from something spicy she had eaten. But there was nothing spicy on the menu, so why did she look like she was about to explode?

"Jay" he quickly turned to you, surprised that you were calling him. He stared at you, realizing that you were whispering while his friends were talking loudly and excitedly about another conversation. He leaned in close enough for you to continue saying "Are you okay?"

Don't make it difficult, y/n. I can't feel like kissing you right now, he sighed but nodded in agreement.

"I am, it's just…" he looked again at the table Yuri was at, wanting to curse himself in every possible way when you looked in the same direction and then at him.

Your posture straightened and you had a frightened look on your face.

In your mind, he was still thinking about his ex, so all the joking around that his friends were doing wouldn't lead anywhere.

In his mind, Jay didn't care if Yuri was angry with another woman sitting next to him or not. He only cared about your interpretation and what you thought of it. He didn't want it to be taken the wrong way and end something that had barely begun.

"Am I supposed to feel bad that she's ignoring me?" Jay huffed, untying his holster and throwing it on the table abruptly.

He didn't understand why he was so nervous. Maybe it was because he and the team of investigators had finally started working together, and you were the only one who wasn't looking directly into his eyes anymore.

For the first few days, Jay thought it was the nervousness of the interaction since he also knew how much his friends teased him about the whole situation. But then he started to put the pieces together, exchanging glances with Yuri… until Heeseung went in as a personal investigator and tried to get something out of it.

"His ex looked like she was going to kill him with just that look" you whispered to your friend, telling him what had happened in the refectory. Heeseung even opened his mouth to say something, but Jake had called for them to start organizing the operations.

Jay didn't feel good about it. The relationship had been years ago, people had talked about it for months until it had cooled down and, after all this time, he finally felt ready to rediscover his feelings, or whatever they were, for you. But it seemed that Yuri was suffocating him even though you were no longer with him.

The few things you told Heeseung that weren't secret, he told Jay. And that made him understand why you were ignoring him.

"She just thinks too much" Stella pulled out the swivel chair to sit next to Jay's desk. Only the two bosses were there after Heeseung left with Jake "Y/n doesn't have such a…"

"As bad as mine?" Jay let out a sarcastic whisper, hating the way Yuri could still affect him even though he hadn't done anything.

"I wouldn't put it like that, but since you did" she shrugged, causing Jay to let out a small laugh. Remembering when Heeseung said that she would probably be the friend that Jay could pick on, just like Heeseung and you did.

"I don't know, I really liked her, you know? It was weird, but I liked it" Jay sat down and leaned all his weight on the chair. Stella remained silent, enjoying the free venting session "I never thought I could have this feeling after what Yuri did."

"She was a bitch."

"Yes, she was" Jay let Stella laugh at the situation, ending up laughing too "Now your friend hates me."

"No, she doesn't" the woman pouted, twisting in her chair as she stared at the office ceiling "Maybe she needs to hear from you what happened."

"That my ex is psychotic and even I don't know why she was looking so angry?" he asked.

"Exactly" Stella stopped spinning, raising her head and meeting Jay's gaze "Then you can ask her to dinner."

The naturalness with which Stella had said it made Jay certain why she and Heeseung were a perfect couple.

"Right, I…"

"Rest room" she said as soon as he stood up "Not the one you… Well… It's been forbidden since Jake told us what floor it was. So we don't go there anymore."

He laughed, probably imagining the story his best friend had told to try to convince them. The betrayal in itself was already a story, but Jake had certainly increased it by 300%, even telling them that they would have bad luck in any niche of life if they continued resting in the room he entered and found Yuri and the other policeman.

Jay listened carefully to where the restroom was and quickly climbed the stairs, not wanting to wait for an elevator – and there were only two flights – he arrived so quickly that he had to catch his breath as he walked through the corridors until he arrived in front of the door.

You can do it, Jongseong. He said to himself before turning the handle and entering.

Stella was right, you were in that room sitting on the sofa with your feet propped up on the coffee table. A cup of juice was in front of you and your attention was focused on some papers in your hands. You only looked away when Jay snorted, causing you to startle and quickly get up from the sofa.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" he said afterward, noticing that you weren't expecting him there. Well, he wasn't even expecting to come after you, if he was honest.

"It's okay, I… I was just leaving" you put the papers in the envelope and tried to look for your coat.

"No, wait," Jay ordered.

Don't keep talking, don't say anything.

"I wanted to talk to you."

Fuck. You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as you turned back to pick up the cup of juice on the coffee table, letting all the air out of your lungs in a sigh, hoping that Jay hadn't heard the urgency with which it had happened.

Turning to face him, with the envelope in one hand and the cup of juice in the other, you nodded, indicating that you were listening.

"Something wrong with the case? I was reviewing some—"

"It's nothing to do with the case" Jay interrupted subtly, taking a few more subtle steps towards you. If you noticed the approach, you didn't flinch, only noticing how close he was when, with one more step, Jay would completely glue his body to yours.

"So what's it about?" you didn't even know because your voice dropped an octave, let alone why Jay was whispering when there were only the two of you there.

Carefully and without answering anything, he took the envelope and the cup from your hand, placing them both on the coffee table and finally bringing his body completely close to yours.

You knew Jay's proportions from the way his muscles were well-defined by his dress clothes, his suspenders, and any other possible garment. You also knew how fit he was because you'd seen him once in a while in casual clothes, when he went to the police station to pick up something he'd forgotten or even helping you and Jake, as deputy boss, who stayed late solving the case you were working on together.

You knew that. But seeing it up close seemed to be even bigger than usual.

"About the misunderstanding on refectory day" every word Jay uttered, he made a point of prolonging the ending just so that the air from his mouth hit your skin. Making you close your eyes and concentrate on the minty breath mixed with coffee.

Your mouth opened to protest, but Jay – not knowing where the courage had come from – brought one of his hands to your waist to press your body against his. This kept you quiet for a few seconds, even if he had intended to shut you up in some other way. And he wanted to. He would.

Jay leaned in close enough for you to feel his warm lips brushing against yours. One more little impulse and you'd press your lips to his, feel even more of the minty coffee breath in your mouth. Your hands circle his chest until they meet the collar of his dress shirt.

And with that, Jay knew it was time to move on and finally press his lips to yours.

"Holy fuck, Heeseung!" the bang of the door together with Jake's shout made you and Jay separate quickly.

Not because you were caught almost kissing, but because Jake's scream had startled you both.

"I didn't know it was this break room" he almost cried "Oh my God, forgive me."

"I'm going to kill you" Jake kept shouting "Sorry, guys. You two… Can you…" he looked between you and Jay, his hand still on your waist and you keeping your hand against his chest "Go on…"

"Did you even kiss?" Heeseung asked.

"Both of you, out. Now!" you could see Jay's authoritative tone, but with a hint of playfulness as he tried to hold back his laughter when he saw his two friends, wide-eyed, rush to close the door to the restroom and get out of there as quickly as they had entered.

He looked at you again, smiling broadly as you mirrored his smile.

"How about we go downstairs? They probably haven't even left the hall and I don't want them getting in our way again" you said.

"If you promise me we can pick up where we left off afterwards."

"When?" you turned to Jay as he picked up your things from the table, you walked to the chair on the other side of the room to get your coat.

"I think we're staying late tonight and, well, I can't let you go home alone, can I?"

"Maybe I'll skip Stella's ride" you shrugged.

"I'd love that" he smiled, moving closer and leaving a kiss on the top of your head. Handing you the cup of juice and taking the case envelope, Jay opened the door just as Heeseung and Jake were leaning over it, almost falling into the room and on top of the boss when he took a step forward.

"Jay! Y/n!" Jake greeted the two of you. Jay stared at you for a second, then looked at the two of you right in front of him.

"I'm the one who's going to kill you two" he gritted his teeth and put his hand on his waistband, where his holster would be. Jake and Heeseung didn't even want to check, just running down the corridor and shouting for Jay not to do anything. He also ran after his friends shouting a few curses, while you stayed behind to turn off the lights and close the door.

You always looked forward to leaving work, even when you were working overtime. But today, in particular, was the day you most wanted to leave in company.

You wondered how you could live so long without having Jay's lips on yours. Or how you managed to survive without feeling every touch, or how easily you woke up and went to sleep without having him in your bed?

The answers came little by little over the two months since the first kiss you two shared, in his car, when he drove you home late at night. Maybe not just a kiss and you knew Stella would freak out when you told her you had sex with Jay in the back seat of his car. But if she shared things about Heeseung and herself, it was your turn too.

You feared that things would cool down, or that you and he would feel so overwhelmed with work that you wouldn't want to keep what you were having.

No labels, not a single statement.

The most that came out of each other's mouths was "I like you, you know that?" and then a smile so silly that neither of you wanted to intensify it. For fear that everything was going so well and it could simply be ruined.

Or for you, who had never felt like this and fallen in love with someone.

"So this is what it's like to be in love?" you asked Heeseung dreamily when you were both in the break room. A week before the case you shared with Jay's department closed.

Having in-depth conversations with him was better than with Stella because with her you were a little afraid. She seemed like a protective mother and was sure to tell you all the pros and cons of being in love.

It was also difficult for Jay to know that he was in love, even more so after everything he had experienced so far.

"I don't want to hurt her" he sighed, resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes tightly.

"You won't" Jake assured his best friend "You've finally managed to fall in love again and I'm glad it's someone like you."

"Why?" he asked, looking at his best friend.

"Because she looks after you and cares" he said "And because she treats your friends well, that's enough, don't you think?"

Jay knew it was because Yuri had never been very nice to Jake. So small attitudes counted, there was no comparison between the two of you, he knew there was no reason to be afraid. But he also knew that he needed to find a moment in which he could say what he felt.

He wanted the security of knowing that you were in love too. And you wanted him to feel good and safe being around someone else after the enormous trauma he'd been through.

The two of you – without knowing it – silently shared the same care.

"Y/n, Stella" the head of the police station entered the room, dispelling your thoughts and making you focus on the gray-haired man who had just entered. You and your friend stood up, greeting the middle-aged man and smiling as kindly as he did "Are you busy?"

"Never for you, sir" Stella said with a smile.

"Good, I need you two for a day" he said, slowly shifting his gaze between you and Stella "It's a criminal case and I know Heeseung is with Jake, so you're the only two I can trust."

"Perfect, do you want it now?"

Stella's question made the boss agree, leading the two of you out of the room and towards the criminal cases department. You usually left such matters to Heeseung or even another teammate, but seeing your boss call for you and your best friend was really endearing. It meant that he trusted the two of you, chief and deputy chief, to do the job well.

The department was much bigger than the one you and Stella worked in, after all, criminal cases had a large proportion. And investigators could work in any department as long as they were asked to, as was happening now.

"We have a transcribed case and we need you two to take a look at it and try to spot something that the other investigator didn't find" the chief passed the paper to Stella, letting her read it and then pass it on to you.

As soon as she'd finished, her eyes went carefully over the document, listening attentively to her boss and best friend, punctuating a few things with the older man and hearing him agree and add more things that other policemen had discovered too.

"So we have a starting point, that's good" he said after you'd finished reading, nodding to someone behind you and beckoning you to come closer.

"Girls, this is Yuri, the one who wrote the document that you two have just read" this could only be a joke in very bad taste. But no. From the seriousness your boss presented, you knew it was strictly professional.

Stella looked at you quickly, trying not to look so shocked when she faced Yuri first. Just a nod was enough for the greeting.

You, in turn, turned slowly until you were face to face with the woman. She seemed as surprised as you were. Her mouth opened slightly in shock, but as soon as she saw your serious expression, jaw set and misty eyes, Yuri smiled.

"Hi boss. Girls" she greeted.

"Yuri, this is Stella and Y/n, the boss and deputy boss investigators I asked to read the document you wrote" he explained.

"Oh, yes. Stella is the boss" she pointed at her friend "And y/n is the deputy boss who is taking my leftovers and sleeping with my ex-boyfriend?"

"Excuse me?" you knew it was ridiculous to fight for these reasons, but hearing her swear at you gratuitously wasn't on the list of good manners you swore to uphold at work. So when you pushed her against the table as hard as you could, hearing the thud of Yuri's body in the same tone as her loud scream, you knew you were done for.

"Y/n, what's that?" your boss asked, shocked by the reaction.

Stella really was a great boss, or she tried to approach Yuri for fear that you'd end up actually hitting the woman. So she helped her up, seeing that the blow had been really hard.

"I don't tolerate disrespect, boss."

"But we don't tolerate aggression" he was shocked, but he didn't seem angry. He knew his employees so well, especially you – along with Heeseung – that it was almost impossible to see them with their faces closed.

"She won't be working on my case anymore" Yuri's voice was tearful, her eyes watery and her breathing rapid.

"Your case? I'm the deputy boss here, you self-interested bitch."

It was Yuri's turn to try to do the same to you, but Stella was already holding her back and her boss had put himself between the two of you, afraid that something else might happen.

"Stella" he called out.

"Boss" the two of you exchanged places, she held you down to get you out of there while he pulled Yuri away and tried to talk to her.

"I'll meet you in your office in five minutes" he said before your friend could get you out of that department. You felt your blood boil as you cursed Yuri one last time.

"What?" Jake felt the pillow being pressed against his face by Sunoo, listening intently to everything you had said so far.

"Jake, please" you begged, whimpering.

"She told us because if she told Heeseung, he'd scream and Jay would find out" Sunoo recalled.

That's why the three of you were in the break room on the top floor.

Your boss chose to suspend you and Yuri for two weeks. This consisted of no badges, no guns, no holsters and, above all, no going to the police station. You just had to wait for the day to end and then go home and be grounded for two weeks, as Stella said as soon as she had told the story in a more motherly way to the two boys in front of you before going to meet Heeseung and Jay.

"I just need to know what to do to tell him" you paced back and forth in the living room, on the other side of the coffee table.

"When did this happen?" Jake asked.

"Thirty or forty minutes ago, I'm not sure" you said.

"Okay, then" he straightened his arm, glancing at his wristwatch "In ten minutes or so, Jay will know and he'll be shouting down the corridors looking for you."

"Y/n" was Jay's voice. And he sounded extremely angry.

"Maybe less than ten minutes" he tried to joke about the situation, knowing that even though it wasn't funny, it made you let out a quick laugh "Right, I'm not going to let him talk to you now. That won't be good."

"Let's go outside" Sunoo ordered, getting up from the sofa along with Jake.

"Fucking hell!" Jake shouted in fright as Jay opened the door without warning "You need to tell us when you're coming in, there are people who could die of a heart attack."

Jay looked at his best friend, without really answering him, then looked at Sunoo and finally at you.

"We need to talk."

"Now?" you tried to smile, showing all your teeth as you looked at Jake for help.

"Now" he said seriously.

"You know what?" you stood behind Sunoo at all times "I promised Jake I'd help him with some papers, you know."

"Yeah, deputy boss stuff" Jake shrugged.

Jay sighed, massaging the space between his nose and eyebrow with the slight headache he was feeling.

"There's no way you can help him when you're suspended from work for two weeks" he said coldly.

Shit. It was the only quick swear word you could think of, not knowing what to say as you watched Jay ask – almost order – Jake and Sunoo to leave the room.

You wanted to go with them, almost grabbing Sunoo and running past Jay without him being able to stop you, but your two fearful friends ran out of the room and quickly closed the door.

Silence settled in as Jay continued to stand by the door, a long distance from where you were still standing by the coffee table in the break room. He looked around without looking at you for long minutes, perhaps thinking, cursing. You didn't know.

And that was making you more and more anxious. What was he going to fight you for? The fight or because you stood up to his ex? Or because you stood up to his ex by fighting in a way that resulted in your suspension?

What was Jay thinking, anyway?

As if he could read thoughts, while you were thinking about his name, that gaze finally stopped on you. It was loaded with so many things that you couldn't even decipher which was which first, but one of them was fear. Jay seemed afraid of something as he approached you in hurried, persistent steps.

As soon as he stopped right in front of you, he ran his thumb over your cheek and leaned close enough to brush his lips against your forehead.

"What…" you whispered, confused by the sudden change in his behavior.

"I wanted to scare you a little, just like Stella scared me when I found out" he said in the same tone, lowering his lips to kiss yours quickly.

You slapped his arm, causing Jay to laugh as he wrapped his arms around you and finally kissed you once more.

It was slow but intense. Every movement made you sigh against his mouth while the way Jay deepened the kiss made you even more enamored of him. Even more in love and addicted to his touches. He stopped when he needed to catch his breath, not only because he was kissing you, but also because he had run into the living room to find you.

Staying with his forehead against yours, touching the tip of your nose with his, Jay sighed.

"Suspended? Really, y/n?" the tone was playful, but at the same time scolding.

"What? Could she talk the way she talked to me?" you asked, slightly offended at still remembering what she had said.

Jay shook his head, tightening his arms even more around your waist.

"She couldn't" he replied, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He wanted to say it without having to look you in the eye, so maybe close to your ear would be a good idea, so you could hear him and he wouldn't have to interrupt "I was just afraid."

You knew him well, how strange. He really was afraid.

"Afraid of what?" you tried to get him to look at you, but every time he moved, Jay sank his face further into your neck, sniffing your skin and whimpering that he wanted to stay there.

"Afraid she'd ruin anything I was thinking of having with anyone" he said, his voice muffled because he'd kissed your skin "Afraid she'd interfere with my relationship in some way" Jay whispered, sliding his arms around your waist so that his hands could take that spot. His fingers lightly squeezed the spot as he let all the air out of his lungs, raising his head and finally facing your gaze "I was afraid she'd manage to take you away from me because…"

The intensity in your gaze and your slightly accelerated breathing indicated that you were waiting for the answer. And Jay knew it. He knew you wanted to hear it as much as he wanted to say it.

"Because I'm in love with you, y/n. And I think that finally, after finding something good in my life, I was afraid that it would ruin everything."

"Say it again" you insisted.

"What? That I'm scared?" Jay asked confused.

"That you're in love with me, idiot" you rolled your eyes, laughing along with him.

Jay moved a little closer, distributing slow kisses all over your face until he finally reached your lips.

"Me, Park Jongseong, I'm in love with you, y/n."

Your shrug was the cutest thing he'd ever seen, accompanied by a low chuckle as you slowly kissed his lips.

"Me, y/n, I'm in love with you too, Park Jongseong" you whispered against his lips, laughing even harder when he seemed to relax his whole body and drop the weight from his shoulders.

"That's so nice to hear" he said before kissing you for real.

With intensity, tongues intertwined and hands where they could hold each other. Without too much fuss because they were in the break room at the police station, and because Jay had the impression that the kiss would be interrupted at some point. He just didn't want to be so sure when he heard the door open, forcing him to separate from you quickly.

"Oh, you two are in there… Kissing" Jake shouted the last part as if he needed to say it and it was code for something.

Maybe it was, considering that Heeseung appeared soon after, along with Sunoo and Stella at the door of the room.

"Kissing means you two aren't fighting, right?" Sunoo asked. Jay looked at you and, with a mutual nod, you both agreed.

"So does that mean we can go out and celebrate y/n's suspension?" Jake hummed.

Jay gave you one more quick kiss on the lips before pulling away, putting his hands on your waist, and looking at his friends.

"Stella, are you wearing your holster?" he asked, putting his hands on his waist.

"Yes, I am" she pointed to the accessory, showing the gun stored there too.

"How many bullets do you have?"

"I think I have five left" she replied, unable to contain her laughter when Jay said it.

"Perfect, I only need three!"

"Baby…" Heeseung whined to Stella as he was the first to run, followed by Sunoo who was screaming along with Jake.

Jay passed the girl at the door without even touching the gun, only to scare them off as he ran after his friends.

"Come on, we're having dinner at the Japanese restaurant tonight" she said to you after she waited for you to approach, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you left the restroom.

For so long, neither you nor Jay thought you could find happiness inside that police station. Jay, for obvious reasons. You, for never having experienced it.

But just like work, everyday life wasn't planned at all and sometimes unforeseen events arose. Cases arriving on your desk in the middle of the day, or two or three suspects you hadn't paid attention to. Even someone with a gun in an operation that Jay was taking part in.

Or, on top of that, an unexpected love interest in the department next door.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[unreleasedwrites]

I LOVED the gitae fic it was so good😔🙏 We need part two where Maybe he feels pity for us and takes us out to eat or smth, you do the magic im bad at writing lmao 🤧

Thank uuu♡♡♡♡

A Planned Coincidence (pt. 1) (pt. 2)

“Where’s the fun in spoiling it? How about I show you instead?”

summary: You’ve been stuck in the same warehouse you woke up in about three weeks ago, and no matter what plan you would make to escape— it’s no use and you’d only get in trouble. One of the times you did try with Gitae around, he had to clean up after you and the topic of your friends came up and so you begged to meet them. Unfortunately, it didn’t go as planned and you ended up ignoring Gitae for days. Eventually, he decided he’d take you out in hopes you’d finally speak to him.

character(s) included: Gitae Kim x fem!reader

cw: swearing, implied kidnapping, very toxic, same warnings as my first gitae fic (part 1) , yandere gitae, mentions of blood, death, kissing, suggestive, nicknames, cartel mentions, this is FICTIONAL, abuse, mentions of drugs, guns, his axe, implied cannibalism, a bunch of crimes so beware dark and possibly disturbing content

unwrapped on: Tuesday Morning, April 30 2024

wrapped up on: Friday Evening, May 03 2024

published on: Friday Evening, May 03 2024

“You tired of playin’ these stupid fucking games yet, doll?” Gitae said in an agitated tone, as he held your bruised hand and covered it in bandages. Afterwards, he planted a light kiss on top.

You remained dead silent and only looked towards the ground of the warehouse you were trapped in. You accidentally injured yourself in another one of your escape attempts, so here Gitae was, taking "care" of you once again with some condescending mockery.

“Well? Now you’re gonna go and play the quiet game with me, huh?” He said with a slightly more irritated expression on his face.

“Look at me when i’m speaking to you.” He said and he grabbed your chin to meet eye to eye with him, and you could tell he looked angry. He tightened his grip on your already bruised hand, causing you to yelp in pain from how much pressure was applied.

“Gitae.. I-I—, I was wondering if yo—” You were trying to speak when a few rounds of open fire suddenly interrupted you. You flinched and a visibly frightened expression was evident on your face. Gitae saw this and took you into his arms to face him, while on his lap so that he could straddle you and stroke your hair.

“Sorry about the noise, little girl. Just part of my men’s duties, I’ll let them know to keep it down though,” he said in a less irritated tone.

“Back to where we left at earlier.. Why do you keep tryna fucking escape?” He said in a slightly more raised tone.

“To leave..? Isn’t the answer to that question already kind of already a given?” You replied.

“Leave?” He scoffed, “and just where exactly would a little girl like you go? If I can recall, the friends you came to Mexico have gone missing.. And technically, you’re now known as a missing person, just like your four other friends.”

“Gitae, I hate to have to ask but— Did you have anything to do with those disappearances by chance? You’re speaking as though you know all about it and from what I’ve seen in the past few days..”

He cut you off and laughed, “did I? I thought that was already a given from when I took you here, was it not?”

“I think I get it now, I’m next.. Aren’t I?” You replied.

“What? When the hell did I ever hint something even close to that? I was talking about your little friends, they’re alive, but let me just tell you now that they won’t be for very long if you keep continuing this bullshit of trying to leave me.”

“They’re alive—? Where are they?! Can I please, pleaseee see them, pretty pleaseee??” You begged with your usual pouty face.

“It’s hard to say no when you say it like that,” he said as he held your cheeks together with his hand, “if you’re good for the rest of the day, I might consider it. How’s that for a deal, doll?”

“Deal!” You exclaimed and he tapped his cheek with his finger a few times while saying, “but first~?”

You then tried to give him a kiss on the cheek but he swiftly turned his head so that your lips would land on his instead, and it worked. Despite your situation, you turned into a blushing hot mess and Gitae simply laughed at your reaction, thinking “how cute.”

A little fast forward into that same day, the sun was finally setting, so you may finally get to see your friends again. You waited patiently in the warehouse, sat on top of some boxes, reading the books Gitae gave you to pass time while he was out doing who knows what.

Some kind of bell or alarm started to ring and from what you’ve been observing in the past three weeks, that alarm means that it’s around 8 or 9 in the evening, where most of Gitae’s “men” go out to do unspeakable acts that you’ve witnessed at some point.

Usually, This was around the time you’d try escaping the warehouse because everyone was way too busy to watch over you and most of the men there have left the warehouse, getting on some sketchy vehicles with all sorts of equipment, weaponry, and drugs. The remaining people were either asleep or high in the clouds.

But when you start to see the men leave, you’d usually start to see the second batch of men arrive with Gitae. You’ve noticed a pattern where half of the men go out with Gitae during the day and the rest of the men go out during the night and what similarity both batches shared was that they all came back bloody, smelling really odd, and sometimes Gitae would bring you what he calls a souvenir,— human flesh from one of his victims. Anytime Gitae would do that, you just ignored him for the next hour or two, depending on just how much his patience is willing to endure from you being a so called “brat.”

But, it was around 8 in the evening when the bell had rang, and now it’s past midnight. Yet you haven’t seen or heard from Gitae at all.

Reluctantly, you finally resorted to asking the men around to which they only replied with stuff like, “just give him another half hour and he’ll be here. He’s probably just ran into some trouble with a gang fight or somethin like that.”

One of the men was nice enough to give you some paper that you used to make little bookmarks for the various books you had.

Gitae usually takes you to sleep with him in one of the compartments of the warehouse that led to a bedroom, but since he wasn’t here and you had no idea on how to get in there, you fell asleep on the floor beside some boxes.

You woke up the next morning when you overheard a bunch of men who sounded like they were arguing. And weirdly enough, you were on the bed in the hidden compartment of the warehouse, with Gitae fast asleep beside you. His breathing was steady and he looked tired so you decided to just look around and take mental notes of what the room looked like. It was very different from the rest of the warehouse and was pretty cozy. Gitae’s usual leather jacket was hung on a chair nearby and you noticed some of his belongings on the table. One of which, was a gun. It had you thinking if you wanted to risk your entire life, jumping off the bed to get the gun which was on his side of the room, and shoot him blank.

But that was stupid, what about all the men outside? Gitae told you he isn’t a fan of silencers on his personal guns. They’ll definitely rush over thinking that you in fact, did something— because they all know that Gitae wouldn’t dare hurt you to such a foul extent.

So, you scratched that thought and looked at the door, where does that lead? You thought to yourself. Before you could even continue thinking as you were sat up on the bed, you heard Gitae suddenly start speaking in a raspy morning voice, “what are you up to, little girl? Shouldn’t you still be asleep in my arms?” You turned over to see Gitae, with messy morning hair, not in his usual state of a few loose strands with his hair slicked back.

“Nothing, I was jus-” You stopped for a moment when you saw Gitae sit up and reach for his gun, “doll, could you riddle me this,” he said.

You nodded in response and he spoke as he loaded his gun, “did you try to escape in any form and at any time yesterday?”

He looked you dead in the eye while readjusting compartments of his gun, you lost focus and started to stare at his hands fiddling around with the gun to which he suddenly snapped his fingers, “my eyes are up here, what did I tell you yesterday?” His eyes narrowed and you responded with, “to always look you in the eye when you speak..?”

“Correct. Now, answer.” He slowly finished prepping his gun.

“I didn’t, you could ask the men out there for proof of that.” You said.

“I already did, they told me you were finding me last night? Is that true, my pretty doll?” He said as he caressed your face.

“Well, you were taking much longer than expected to arrive.. A-and you did tell me that if I was good for the rest of the day, I’d get to meet my friends..” You said hesitantly.

“Right.. About those little friends of yours,” he spoke as he placed the gun on the table and your eyes widened, “what about them..?”

“Hoho, do you wanna find out for yourself?” He said with a smirk on his face.

“Gitae.. What do you mean..?”

“Where’s the fun in spoiling it? How about I show you instead?”

“Fine then,” you replied.

Gitae stood up from the bed and so did you, it was still about 4 in the morning so it was cold outside of the bedroom, which is why Gitae put his leather jacket on you since you weren’t wearing much.

He unlocked the door with some sort of key that he took from a high shelf you couldn’t reach for yourself. Before he even swung the door open after unlocking it, he took a blindfold and placed it on you first, something that typically happens whenever you guys were going to leave the bedroom. From there he just carries you to the main open area of the warehouse to which he then takes the blindfold off once you’ve arrived around the usual boxes you stay at.

“So.. Where are they??” You asked visibly confused, tilting your head to the side as you looked up at Gitae.

“Silly girl, they aren’t here.. They’re at some other location we’ll be driving to,” he replied as he looked at one of the men who usually drove you and Gitae around. To which that man immediately left, starting up one of the cars that were outside.

“Awh, but it’s so early.. It doesn’t even look like it’s 5 in the morning, why would you suggest we go now..?” You pouted as you looked at Gitae, because of how sleepy you were he had to hold you with one of his hands to keep you from falling.

“Don’t worry, sleeping beauty— It’s a few hours to get to where they’re at, so you could just sleep on me in the meantime.” He replied as he carrier you once again and took you to the car.

He positioned you on his lap to face him and you settled your head in the crook of his neck, slowly drifting away. He gave you kisses on the top of your head and stroked your hair while you gently caressed his shoulders. You fell asleep easily and stayed in the same position.

Eventually, the car parked at some hidden area which appeared to be in a secluded part of a forest. You were still asleep when you guys arrived so Gitae started pressing kisses all over you. You started feeling ticklish from all of it and woke up.

Not even sure how you guys got here because you didn’t see a road to drive on but you didn’t question it.

“Good morning doll~ We’ve arrived, would you like to finally meet your little friends?” Gitae asked you, who was still sleepy and had woken up from a good dream, still not processing anything.

You simply nodded and clung onto Gitae’s shirtless body because you were too tired to even try getting up and walking.

Gitae carried you with ease and walked towards what appeared to be a pretty run down building, but what it specifically looked like was a blur to you because of how out of it you still were at the time.

An awful stench was evident from the exact moment you were in the building. A loud screech coming from a girl was heard all throughout the large building, echoing amongst the floors. The voice sounded a little too familiar, almost as if it were one of your friends producing a vile screech, a desperate scream for urgent help. The echo suddenly came to a stop without repeating the rest of the noise. Gitae tried to assure you that was someone else but it was no use, you were in an environment you’ve never been in before, hearing all sorts of things. You were terrified and started to both panic and cry, while you were still in Gitae’s arms. He started to get irritated with how your current state was, he even threatened to hit you if you didn’t stop screaming and crying, trying to get away from him. You ran off into some other part of the large building, hiding from him. At first, he was annoyed but decided to play your little game of hide and seek. But, couldn’t find you and so he started to punch different walls, some of which collapsed in an attempt to find you easier and to get you out.

He couldn’t take it anymore and pulled out his axe, he said that you had exactly 5 seconds to reveal yourself or this wouldn’t end well.

“This is a stupid fucking game, Y/N. 5,” he started his countdown, “4,” and you knew better than to disobey, so hesitantly “3,” you started to leave your hiding spot to reveal yourself, “2,” before he could even reach 1, you were on your knees behind him, sobbing.

“Gi-Gitae, please..” You sniffled, “I already have gotten a good idea of what you did with them, so please.. I don’t need to see it for myself.”

He scoffed, “after you just ran and hid from me? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so.” He grabbed you by your hair harshly and dragged you to the basement floor. And that’s where you saw another nightmare right in front of you, from the scene of the group of men who attacked you, to your own closest friends, all dead.

Except one of them, she was your closest friend in the entire group and she was completely unharmed. But had to closely witness all that was done to the other girls. She was tied up with chains and from what you know, her voice was the noise you heard earlier.

Which had you wondering, why did her screaming suddenly stop? But instead of focusing on that, you looked over to Gitae who has never looked so angry before. His grip on your hair was only becoming tighter as you tried pleading with him.

You were terrified to know that in any second, Gitae could literally crush your skull with his bare hands if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Gitae suddenly let go of the grasp he had on your hair and looked down on you, “I’m letting you know in advance that what happens next is thanks to you being such a brat.” He then struck his axe at your friend, multiple agonizing times while the one man that was there forced you to watch, holding you at gunpoint and purposely turning your head in the direction of both Gitae and your friend.

Gitae looked back at you after he struck your friend with his axe so many times that she’s no longer recognizable, you were a sobbing, pitiful, and distressed mess. You were screaming at him, begging him to stop, all the while trying to break free from the man’s harsh grip on you but it was no use and you couldn’t do anything at all.

I won’t go into too many details but it was extremely gruesome and gut wrenching. By the time Gitae finally decided he was finished, he threw the axe at your direction, purposely missing by just an inch to slightly scar your neck (since you were moving around a lot, it just barely scraped the side of your neck).

You yelped, Gitae then took a part of her flesh, and bit it— but unlike the last time, he ate this entirely and licked his fingers clean. He then spoke out “clean this place up, (insert name of man who was holding you).” To which the guy nodded and finally let go of you, you fell immediately to the ground and continued sobbing, you were twitching at this point from how terrified you were.

Gitae then looked over to you, he’s seen you upset but he’s never seen you this upset before. He looked back at the girl he had just mauled and at the other girls that were laying dead on the floor. That’s weird, he was starting to feel— bad for you?

Gitae spoke with someone on the phone and after, he carried you to the car. You never stopped sobbing and you were trembling as Gitae had you on his lap, facing his blood scattered face and body. He was trying his best to comfort you but you were ignoring him. Eventually, the car started to move and you knew this was gonna be a long ride, but you just kept on sniffing while your head was nestled in between the crook of his neck. He took the hint that you really weren’t gonna talk to him at all, so he stroked your hair with his unstained hand while you silently sobbed, clinging onto him so tightly that it left marks on his body. He also bandaged up the tiny scar you got coming from his axe.

A few days had passed and you still hadn’t spoken to Gitae no matter how many times he tried or how much he threatened you.

He was fed up, but he had an idea that might just work. He decided he’d take you out for dinner at one of the places that had gambling addicts so no staff would care. He hadn’t told you all about his plan yet but he had some guy book a reservation and he went out to buy you a little gift. You didn’t know of any of this because you couldn’t understand Spanish so you were just reading books in the corner.

He went out to buy you some clothes that he was badly hoping you’d like. He bought you more sleepwear and a cute outfit that you could wear on your little date with him. He bought some more things you mentioned you like, like some more books he knows nothing about.

He arrived back at the warehouse at around 5:30 in the evening and asked you to come with him, he blindfolded you and brought you to a bathroom. It was much nicer than the usual bathroom and you were assuming that this was another compartment of the warehouse.

He told you to shower, and you nodded in response. But, he was just standing at the doorway, staring at you. So you just stood there.

“Well?” He rose a brow, “I thought you wanted a shower, what are you doing just standing there?”

You gulped and finally spoke for the first time in days, “d-do you really.. have to watch..?”

He looked you up and down, “either I watch or join you, take your pick.” You remained silent, you didn’t want either of that.

He scoffed and put the blindfold on you once again, you could hear him fiddling with his belt and clothes rustling. After, he started to undress you as well, disposing of your clothes in the trash.

He turned on the running water in the bathtub and while it filled, he was doing some things but you couldn’t see so you had no idea. He took you into his arms and the next thing you felt was pure water, you haven’t showered in a while so this was a bliss. He took your blindfold off and to your surprise, you were on top of him in the bathtub. He gently sunk you into the water, and laid you on his figure, showering your hair with water.

He then applied different products on your hair and massaged your scalp. after he finished washing your hair and body, he started fondling around with your body.

“Your skin is so soft, doll,” he said as he played with your boobs. You lightly moaned from what he was doing and he smirked, “you like that, don’t you?” You subconsciously bucked your hips in response which caused him to twitch down there. You could feel his dick on you and he started aggressively kissing you. Things escalated and you ended up having to take a second bath.

“Doll~, I forgot to mention it because you riled me up so much earlier that I lost the chance to— butt, we’re going out tonight and I bought you some clothes.” Gitae said as he took out some unfamiliar clothes from the shelf and started to dress you while he was still in a towel.

After you were fully dressed, he smiled at you and commented, “you look adorable, just like a doll.”

Afterwards, he got dressed and was finally wearing something other than just jeans. He was wearing black pants and a formal shirt. You thought he looked handsome in his outfit so you commented, “you look handsome, Gitae,” you giggled. He chuckled and planted light kisses on the top of your head.

You guys then went out and arrived at some nice and flashy building. It was weird at first, you couldn’t possibly fathom why he would do this. Either way, you just went it.

“Well?” Gitae suddenly spoke as you were sat across from him, in a nice restaurant.

“Thank you,” you replied as you looked around the secluded spot you guys were sat at.

Gitae sighed, “still not happy?” He frowned.

You simply looked at him, pouting. To which he pouted back at you mockingly.

The food eventually arrived and Gitae wanted you to try some of his rare practically live ass steak, so he fed you some of it with his fork. You made a dissatisfied face and he laughed at your reaction. He loves the way you react to absolutely anything, he finds it adorably irresistible.

“Thank you,” you said as you were about halfway done with your meal.

“I don’t care for words, you silly little girl. How about you just show me your appreciation after dinner?” He said with a smirk.

You didn’t take the hint and so you asked, “how?”

He laughed at your response, “I’ll give you a better idea once we’re in the car, and once were back in bed, you continue wherever we left off in the car.” Your eyes narrowed until you finally understood what he meant to which you looked at him with a pout while you were chewing your food.

“What kinds of food do you like?” Gitae suddenly asked as he looked at your food then at you.

You shrugged, “I’m not really picky, but I do have my preferences and dislikes.. For instance, that steak you’re eating or any sort of steak.”

He looked at his food, “it’s delicious, how could you not like it?”

“We have wayyyy different diets, I’ve seen you eat raw meats of all sorts you bastard.”

“Awh, how am I bastard?” He pouted, but deep inside he was amused and enjoying this.

“Because of your question about food! I suddenly had a flashback about my friend, whom you took a bite of!” You said, somewhat sarcastically because you know how moody Gitae is and you didn’t want him to get angry at you again.

He just laughed, “I remember that, she tasted alright too, I should’ve had seconds.” You rolled your eyes and he was only more amused and said, “but because of your whining and puffy eyes, I had no choice but to leave as soon as I finished the job. Such a pity.”

“Hey, would it kill you to have some remorse?” You said as you picked up some meat with your fork and lifted it up to his mouth.

“I don’t really like this, but it seems like something you’d like.” You said as he was chewing what you just gave him. He would never admit it, but you feeding him made him feel something.

“It tastes good, I thought you said you weren’t a picky eater?”

“I’m not,” you said as you grabbed more of that meat on your fork and fed a bunch of it to him. He was genuinely so happy inside and his amusement turned into butterflies because for once, you weren’t scared of him and he for some reason, cared about that pretty badly.

Your guys’ dinner date went on like normal, exchanging words and actually getting to know each other.

Eventually you felt the need to use the restroom so you mustered up the courage to ask permission to go.

“Gitae,” he turned his gaze over to you and mumbled in response.

“Could I use the women’s room, please?”

Gitae looked around, “I’m trusting you don’t need me to make sure that no stupid attempts of leaving will happen?” He asked sternly.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Fine then, go ahead but don’t take too long.” You nodded in response and excused yourself from the table.

And just as you said, you did go to the women’s room. And just as you promised, you came back right after. While you were making your way back to the table, you saw that Gitae was approached by two guys who he seemed to have known from somewhere.

You got back to the table and the two men that Gitae was talking to looked over to you. They looked to have been working in the casino area of the building.

One of them turned back to Gitae and said, “I see now why a guy like you is brought to a place like this. I’m guessing she’s your girlfriend, right?” You all looked at Gitae who replied with a smile, “yes, she is.”

“Damn, you’re one lucky guy. She’s gorgeous from top to bottom!” One of the guys exclaimed as he placed his hand on your shoulder, rubbing it intensely. Gitae stared at his hand then at him.

How dare he lay his hand on something I own? He’ll pay for even daring to look at what clearly isn’t his. Gitae thought to himself.

“Well, we’ve gotta get going now.. But you two enjoy your night, especially the pretty lady over here,” one of the guys said as he stroked your hair and then proceeded to walk away.

You turned over to Gitae who looked like his veins were popping out of his skull and his aura seemed to have changed. He then looked back at you and smiled, “don’t mind them, I’ll make sure to deal with them some other time. But not tonight, tonight’s supposed to be our night.” He tried to keep his composure.

“Right.. Who were they anyway? And must they be so touchy..?”

“They’re friends with some of the people I know, but they won’t be for long.” He said as he took the final bite of his food and placed his fork down.

It’s safe to say that those two were never seen again, and the police didn’t even open an investigation about the disappearances when it happened. Soon, the news about those two guys went cold and if anything, any trace or information of them was wiped out entirely.

notes: I did more than the request and added way more before the actual dinner date because im gonna be busy in the next few weeks so idk when I can post again, and because i have a bunch of Gitae requests, I thought I might as well and this is long asf, also i’ve got another gitae fic in progress 😭😭

- With or without proper credits, please don't try to steal or claim any of my works as your own

I genuinely appreciate opinions, feedback, likes, and reblogs

Once again, I hope this isn't too bad for a request, and l'Il be doing more characters in lookism so feel free to request!!

[taesanluv3r]

almost twenty

kim woonhak x reader

non-idol woonhak and reader anxiously holding onto their disappearing youth. kind of emotional, esp if youre aged 17-19, might make u cry (i did while writing it) idk. this fic is dedicated to everyone who's worrying so much abt the future (me) it'll get better i promise (telling myself this). lowercase intended. pls ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors. enjoyy

wc: 2,365

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"so...have you heard back from any of the colleges yet?"

her mother's simple question alone was enough to ruin yn ln's whole afternoon. normally, it wouldn't piss her off that much at all, but the fact that she's heard the exact same words come out from the woman's mouth about a billion times this week alone was just the thing to fully pull on her veins. "i told you a million times already, mom!" she shouted, abruptly- and angrily- standing up from her seat at the dining table. "the schools will get back to me in two weeks. i just applied like two days ago! god..."

"...do you ever listen?"

the answer is no. what kind of parents were understanding enough to listen to their teenage daughter? in fact, what kind of adult would ever understand the way their kids, regardless of age, felt? maybe out there somewhere there was a family that were healthy enough to get each other that way. maybe out there somewhere an adult was caring enough to relate a little.

"tsk...yeah right...fat chance"

yn groans as she slumps belly first onto her bed. she turns over to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. her eyes almost water as they scan her surroundings. the glow-in-the-dark stars that decorated her walls, the baby-pink chair she had out-grown years ago, and the collection of stuffed animals that snuggled comfortably in the very corner of her bed-room; memories of the trajectory of her own life- well, the life she had up until right now, up until this awkward stage between teenage youth and adulthood.

she sighs as she gets up again, her fingers tracing against the gold medals that sat atop the floral wallpaper. she giggles, looking through every old photo inside each frame placed on her shelf. one of little yn holding up three gold medals, little yn with a big toothy grin only half the size of the cotton candy in her tiny hands, a slightly older yn when she had graduated elementary school, and one last image of a smiley middle-school yn, hands happily intertwined with her closest friend, kim woonhak.

the girl stops to stare at all her belongings a little longer. in just two more weeks she'd be hearing back from at least one of the colleges she had applied to. in just two weeks all of these things that surrounded her would be stuffed into a card-board box, somewhere far away from her sight. a sick feeling forms in the pit of her stomach. it's bittersweet. sure, she'd finally be free from the so-called shackles of her parents' constant nagging, finally having a life of her own...but at the same time, yn just couldn't help all the doubts that constantly clouded up her mind, those thoughts that made the sunny days look gloomy through her eyes.

she swears she might just start crying. not that it's anything new, the stress that comes forth from being on the verge of twenty always seemed to push a lever in the tear-making department in her eyes. she's interrupted this time though, by the unnecessarily loud ping of her phone. 'who could possibly be texting me now...'

'woon-not so-agi'

the contact name alone allows a little laugh to escape the girl's lips as she swipes her fingers against the screen to open his message.

where u at?? you aren't flaking on me are u????

his texts confuse her for just a moment, she had no clue what he was talking about.

hellooooo? don't tell me u forgot? we're supposed to meet at the tree remember?? hurry uppppppppp im not waiting long >:(

"shit is it 7pm already?!" without any more fuss, yn rushes to throw on her sweater. she doesn't bother to bid goodbye to her parents before she runs out the door- she's still upset at them, of course. the girl hastily climbs onto her bicycle, her legs pedaling the fastest they ever had. in almost no time, she arrives at the boy's backyard.

"what took you so long?" a male voice calls out from the top of the tree, woonhak's head peaking out from the wooden structure that sat between the branches. yn points a finger up at the air, signaling for him to wait for a second as she catches her breath. she could hear him laugh, followed by the rustling of leaves as a gust of wind flew by. "hurry and get up here" he said impatiently, prompting her to roll her eyes as she began to climb up the wooden ladder.

"finally" the boy said, smiling stupidly as the girl took a seat beside him on the tree-house-like space. it was a flat piece of wood, decorated with acrylic paints and a couple old throw pillows that his dad had installed for them on the tall tree in their backyard. they were about six years old then, just two little kids begging their parents every single day for a 'super ultimate tree-house' to pose as their 'super-spy head-quarters' on their silly playdates, having no clue that their favourite playing spot would hold the same purpose years later in their teens.

"what's up with you?" the boy's voice shakes yn out of the trance she didn't know she was in. "huh?" he laughs again, "you always look like you're about to jump off this tree" woonhak teases, and usually she'd tease back. usually, she'd say something too witty for him to understand, dying of laughter by herself while he sat there confused. that wasn't the case today though, instead, she stayed quiet, only the slightest smile on her lips.

in an instant, his face softened. "hey..." he began, shifting the weight away from his hands to lightly tap at her shoulders. his grip tightened, adding a bit of force to turn her around so they were face to face. "there really is something wrong, isn't there?" yn couldn't bring herself to answer properly, only a whimper of sorts coming out from her mouth- the quietest of noise before that lever inside of her eyes came loose.

"yn...what's wrong?" woonhak asked again, catching her body in his arms when she fell towards him, incasing her in his warmth. "i..." she manages to muster out, her voice muffled from the fabric of his baby-blue sweater. "...i don't know...i just..." once more, the words in her head failed to solidify, all her thoughts coming out as silent cries. he doesn't force her to speak anymore, just holding her tightly, rocking back and forth as if he were comforting a teen-sized baby.

it takes about half an hour for yn to gather herself and her thoughts up again. she had removed herself of woonhak's embrace, sitting straight up beside him. the shadow of their swinging feet moved with the grass below them, the afternoon sky creating a blue-ish tint and painting the scene like a movie. just the right atmosphere for the boy to open his ears up, all for her voice to enter right in.

"i just don't get it. i don't get why they keep pressuring me with all these questions! when are you going to college? you should start packing, have you found a dorm yet? have you found a job yet? when will you get your license? i just...it's just too much- it's like..." she momentarily stops her speech-like dialogue to think of the right adjectives. "like it's all going so fast? like they're rushing you?" woonhak completes the sentences for her, his eyebrows furrowing when she nods in agreement.

"exactly" yn says, bringing one leg up to rest her chin on her knee. "it's just so stressful...i guess i just can't believe it's all happening- i mean..." she picks up her speaking space, perhaps to stop herself from letting the tears take over again. "in two weeks we'll hear from those colleges...then we'll have to move and then start a whole new life and what if we don't end up in the same place? what if we lose contact? what if everything i've lived the past years of my life for..." her voice cracks and she pauses for a moment to look at the boy beside her.

"...what if it doesn't work out? what if it just all goes to waste?"

the water that had begun to well up in her eyes were a clear image in front of him now, only prompting him to start to tear up himself. their gazes lingered on each other for a moment, the vulnerability of it all crashing against the two teenagers like it had fallen straight from the sky.

"i get it" woonhak says, trying his best to stop himself from bawling like a baby- even if it meant breaking eye-contact with the girl and staring all too seriously at the leaves above him. "ah, being our age is so hard!" he yells this time, falling backwards to lay down on the wooden surface. his hands slapped over his face, the mere thought of the pair's coming adulthood far too frustrating for him. his slight temper-tantrum made her smile for the first time that afternoon- i mean, fully smile.

something about the boy's childish nature comforted her. like despite all these worries and all the stress about their coming twenties, whenever they were together they still had that little bit of youth to grab onto.

"hey...you're smiling again" she nods at his observation, moving to lay down on her back right next to him. yn lets out a sigh, watching as a flock of birds migrated over the skies above them. "yn?" woonhak calls out and the girl hums in response, turning her head over to face him. the boy's eyes are shiny and bright, despite the fact that the sun was long gone. she's confused when he moves to sit up again, but never breaking eye-contact.

"can you promise me something?"

she sits up with him now, nodding along with his words. "promise what?" her words are quick, like she didn't have any more time left in the world. "that when we're away in college, even if we get too busy with whatever twenty year olds do, even if we barely have any time on our hands anymore..." his voice starts to shake, eyes begin to water all over again. "promise me we'll never lose contact. promise me we'll still talk every chance we get? please?" the weakness displayed on his face, a kind of look she had never ever seen on the boy before this very moment. he fully expected her to cry as well, to breakdown into tears as they hugged for the rest of the night. she didn't though, instead the girl broke into a small fit of laughter.

"what...why are you laughing?!" a massive frown decorated his complexion, tears streaming down both sides of his face. "oh, woonhak..." yn says, a smile on her lips as her hands moved up to cup his cheeks, beginning to wipe away his tears. "you're so stupid..." the boy furrows his eyebrows, "you can't seriously be bullying me in the middle of this right now-" he's cut off when her pointer finger presses against his mouth. "no, you idiot. i'm just saying you're so stupid if you think i'd ever be able to survive my twenties without texting and calling you every chance i get!"

his mouth opens to form an 'O' shape. she lets out a giggle and his own one follows. yn lets out a deep breath, "i'd be way too lonely without you, woonhak" the boy smiles, "yeah, you've got like no other friends anyways- ow!" he exclaims, rubbing the spot on his shoulder she had slapped. "meanie" her baby-like language only makes him roll his eyes, "how are you almost twenty and still calling people meanie?" yn pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. "i only call you that...and only cause its the truth!" woonhak laughs once more before suddenly pulling her into his chest, she squeals at the sudden force sending them to lay down flat on the tree-house structure again.

they stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms under the shade of their comfort place. "i wish we could stay almost-twenty forever..." yn says through a sigh. woonhak nods, a hand stroking through her hair. "yeah...i wish time froze at age nineteen or something...like at nineteen point nine nine" her eyebrows knit together, "nineteen point nine nine?" he nods again, "yeah, like the ultimate teenager" the girl laughs, hiding her face against his side.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" - "but where would you be without me, yn?" she agrees with him, "you're right...life would be so terrible without you- even if you're the dumbest person i know..." he rolls his eyes. "hey, yn?" - "yeah?"

"you know...later if we're away from each other, please call me. call me all the time. call me if you're bored, call me if you're happy, call me when you're sad, when you're stressed, and please..." the boy trails off, sitting up again and grabbing the girl's hands to pull her up with him. he stared deeply into her eyes, and she did the same as she bit on her bottom lip.

"please call me if you're lonely...promise?"

she nods quickly, "of course. i promise" the pair melt into each other as they hugged once more, the blue sky had darkened and the bright moon watched over them from the cracks between the branches of the tree. "thank you..." kim woonhak says, separating from her grasp. "for what?" yn ln wonders, tilting her head off to the side in confusion.

"for spending the rest of our youth with me"

just like that, yn's worries and all her anxiety flew out the window. in a time like this one, when it feels like their teenage years are disappearing far too quickly, when no one around them seemed to understand, when they've become all too sensitive to the concept of change...at least they've got each other to seek comfort. an everlasting youth whenever it was just the two of them. as though time had frozen and they were stuck in the in-between...

at 19.99.

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

aaa i cried while writing and proofreading this TT 19.99 coming out the same time ive been the most stressed abt future-related stuff, the album is so amazing and relatable! its very precious to me, dont forget to stream!! ily bonedo, ily woonhak, ily readers! here's to growing up together <3 tysm for reading. love, kona.

[cheeeeseburger]

Late night shift

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: A Donna and Harvey dynamic? Yes please! English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes. Enjoy!

“Can you transfer me…”

“The last email? Already did.”

“Thank you, dulce. Can you confirm…”

“Your presence at the gala? I already sent both of our RSVP, like last week. Duh.”

“Oh, ok, thanks. Can you bring me a cup of coffee then?”

You rolled your eyes. “Fernando, your latte is already in your office, like usual. I’ve nearly finished mine. I used your card. Thanks for the free drink, I guess.”

He looked at you in admiration. “You truly are amazing; do you know that?” His words shouldn’t have pleased you as much as they did. You should be used to it by now, he thanked God for making you apply to be his assistant multiple times a day. You blew him a kiss, winked and replied as you exited the room: “Oh baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.” If you had looked back behind your shoulder, you would have seen his eyes full of high esteem and something else that would have woken up the butterflies in your tummy.

Ok, maybe calling your much older boss “baby” wasn’t the most professional way to act, but it was just the way things were between you and Fernando. They had always been like this, ever since you had started working as his assistant, three years ago. You had quickly picked up on his habits, and not a week after you had started the job, he had already nicknamed you “dulce”. Everyone around the paddock knew you two as a pair, an item even. If he was somewhere, it was because you told him he had to be there at a specific time, and you were always right next to him. The media loved your dynamic, and your name was always associated with his. If he was the dad of the grid because of his age, then you were the mom simply because you were partners in crime. Even his parents treated you like a daughter in law. Honestly, you looked like an old couple, always bugging the other, but caring deeply for each other.

The thing is, you two were not a couple, not even close. There wasn’t an ounce of romance between you two, sadly. At least, it was sad for your poor, poor heart who jumped every time you were next to him, so basically every minute of the day. Sometimes, you thought he might feel something for you too, like when you were on flights together, and he sat next to you so you could fall asleep on his shoulder, or whenever it was late at night, and he knocked on your door just to ask you if you wanted to order food. He also left a doubt in your mind whenever you were his automatic plus one to any event, and he had a possessive grip on your arm all night, or when he treated you to something you didn’t even remember mentioning to him.

But every time you got your hopes up, he asked you what shirt he should wear for his upcoming date, or which car he should drive to pick a lucky lady. With your heart crushed, you always answered the white one, because it made him look crisp, and you said to drive the Porshe, because the Valkyrie was your favourite, and just like its owner, you wanted to keep it to yourself.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

“Fernando, baby, I won’t be able to attend the gala with you next week. Do you have someone in mind that you’d would like me to contact to be your date?” You dropped this bomb so casually, on a flight between two continents. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea, since you were stuck in an enclosed space with him for the next few hours.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean you’re not going with me?” Oh boy, he was pissed. You just continued working on your laptop. “Don’t worry, I can still work as your assistant there even if I’m going with someone else.” You rolled your eyes, which you probably shouldn’t have done, because he looked really irritated now.

“Stop playing with me. You’re going with someone else? Who are you even going with anyway?” Oh, if looks could kill. You regretted being in an airplane even more, because if he did end up killing you, you’d be in international waters, and it would be hell in court. You’d have to find the best lawyer there is. Oh wow. You were thinking about hiring a lawyer for your possible murderer. You were just that good at your job.

“Just some guy who owns shares in Aston Martin. Don’t worry, it’s not a lot.” He just stared at you, and now you were really starting to feel uneasy. “Don’t kill me, please?” You asked sheepishly.

That got him out of his trance. “What?” Ok, maybe you had gotten too far in this murder fantasy. He continued: “Why don’t you want to go with me?”

Bless his heart, he looked sad for a second, but the look of fury came back very quickly. “Fernando, it’s not that I don’t want to go with you, it’s just that I got asked out, and since I’m single, I said yes. It’s nothing personal, really.” You shrugged.

“You want to be with this guy? For life?” He interrogated. You raised your hands in the air: “Woah, woah, buddy. I haven’t even gone out once with him! I’m just considering my options.” You suddenly felt self-conscious. “I don’t want to be single forever, you know. What if I turn forty and I’m still all alone in life?” You started to fan yourself and pretended to faint for a more dramatic effect. That effectively lightened his mood.

“You know that I am over 40 and still single, right?” You stuck your tongue at him, and he tried his hardest not to laugh. “Is it because he’s rich? I am rich too, you know.” It was your turn to be offended. “It’s not because he’s rich! It’s because he asked me out and he seems nice, that’s all! Why aren’t you happy that for once you will not be stuck with me? You have the opportunity to invite whoever you want!”

His mood was like the weather at every Canadian GP: changing in a second. He pinched his nose in frustration. “Dulce, if I’m not going with you, I’m going alone.” God, he was exasperating. You had to remind yourself he was your boss; otherwise much harsher words would have come out of your mouth. You settled for a simple “Fine!” to which he also replied “Fine!”

Nobody was actually fine. The rest of the plane ride was pretty much silent.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜

Although you tried not to think about it, your relationship with Fernando was definitely strained after that conversation. You pretended that everything was normal to not raise questions from other people, but you knew something was wrong. He did not kiss you on the cheek like he used to do at least once a day, he dropped the nickname he had for you, and even started to avoid you. You were heartbroken. You did not understand why he was so hurt. You thought you did the right thing by accepting that he was not interested in you like you were in him and moving on, but perhaps not. You felt sick all week until the gala.

Honestly, you were not that interested in your date, but you had to pretend for the night. When he picked you up in his flashy car and he complimented your look, you acted all shy and pleased when really, you didn’t give a shit what he thought about you.

He was right though; you did look gorgeous. Your dress was very flattering on you, it gave you curves in all the right place, and your hair and makeup gave you that old-Hollywood look that is to die for. Also, your boobs really looked good, which is always a confidence booster, right? (A confidence boobster, even?) You always felt beautiful, but tonight, you felt hot. The cameras flashing and the looks you got as you entered the gala confirmed your feeling. Oh, your ego would definitely not fit through the door.

You were sitting alone at a table while your date went to get you something to drink.

 “Already alone, dulce? Even though you’re far from turning forty?”

You looked up at Fernando, and your stupid heart betrayed you by doing a backflip. He looked so fucking good in a suit, it was criminal. He looked like the hero of those mafia romance books that you loved in secret. His white dress shirt made him look very dashing. It made your imagination run wild with fantasies involving you grabbing him by the collar, and wearing nothing but his unbuttoned shirt while he made you breakfast the next morning. Oops.

You flashed your biggest smile at him. “I’m not alone, I have you!” You jumped from your seat to give him a big hug like you always did. Gosh, he smelled so good. You knew his perfume because you were always the one reordering the bottle, but you made a mental note to order a bottle for yourself. Perhaps you could spray it in your underwear drawer? Once again, oops.

“You look beautiful, dulce.”  You gave him a spin so he could really take in how good you looked, and his gaze was full of adoration. He even flushed a little bit. You stared him up and down. “You look good too, baby. I’m glad we went with the black suit.”  He smiled at you. “You have good taste, dulce.” This conversation was the most normal you had all week, ever since the airplane incident.

“I can’t believe you went alone! You’re so stubborn!” You lightly smacked him on the arm when you saw that he truly was unaccompanied. He shrugged and winked at you. “Like I said, it’s you or nothing, amor.” You crossed your arms on your chest, which made your boobs squeeze out of your dress a little, and he definitely peeked at them, but he’s such a gentleman that his eyes were immediately back on yours. You just wanted to scream: Look for as long as you want, baby. Do you want me to remove my dress completely, perhaps? On your bedroom floor, maybe?  You ultimately decided against it.

“Thousand of women are crying all over the world because of you, Fernando. ABBA are currently removing their song Fernando from their catalogue. Do you realize the consequence of your actions?” While you were joking, he suddenly got very serious, and his voice got very deep when he asked “Do you? Do you know why I can't bring anyone that is not you with me?”.

It felt like the air had changed in the room. You were suddenly very hot, and his eyes on you didn’t help with that. You bit you lower lip, and he seemed like he wanted to take you right there, right now. He was giving you his best bedroom eyes. Your legs felt weak as you imagined him fucking you, the noises he would make, the screams he would get out of you. He was definitely the type to talk you through it. The thought made your toes curl. You just knew he would help you clean yourself after because you wouldn’t be able to walk. God help you, if he kept staring at your lips like that, you would have to take him against the wall like a starved woman. Were your panties wet already?

Your moment was interrupted by your date, which you had completely forgotten about. The sexual tension was definitely still there, though. You introduced him sheepishly to Fernando as he gave you your drink. As soon as the two men started talking to each other, you finished your espresso martini in less than three sips.

Fernando and your date seemed like they were in a weird show off competition. Both were trying to intimidate the other. You grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and you downed that, too. There’s no way you would be able to go through this awkward conversation sober. Both guys were acting way too possessively. As soon as Fernando put his hand towards your lower back, your date tried to grab you by the arm, but Fernando just gripped your waist harder. You felt like the favourite doll of two very intense toddlers.

Eventually, thank God, your date was called by someone he knew, and you were once again alone with your boss.

“I don’t think he’s right for you.” Fernando immediately said as soon as he left.

“Gee, okay, dad.” Daddy almost slipped out. Almost.

“I am serious, dulce.” Just like you did frequently these days, you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, from the way that you acted, he’s not going to want to go out with me ever again. Why did you have to act like a protective older brother?” You whined. Actually, you didn’t care if your date never talked to you ever again, but Fernando didn’t have to know that.

“Older brother?” He looked pissed at the words. “He’s way too old for you, anyway.”

“He’s literally your age, Fernando. And you’re not too old for me, are you?” You wanted to stomp the floor because he was getting on your last nerves.

“I think I’m perfect for you, dulce.” What did he say? (Cue the meme)

Once again, your date, which you were slowly starting to despise, interrupted your moment when he got back to your side. To make matters worse, you three were at the same table for the dinner. It was the longest, most awkward meal of your life. You were sitting in the middle, and both guys were fighting for your attention. It could have been flattering, but it was just so fucking annoying. You kept sending apologetic glances to the other people sitting at your table. Fernando abruptly left to go sit at another table. What a child.

Your mood lightened when the atmosphere changed from a formal dinner to a party.

“Do you dance?” you asked your date. “Never”, he replied. You sighed as you watch everyone leave for the dance floor. You loved to dance, and you could not even have this small thing tonight. This night was a complete failure.

Your favourite song started playing. You just wanted to get up and dance with your date like everybody else was doing, but the stupid asshole was apparently to busy playing Candy Crush on his phone. Gosh, could this night be even more horrible? You just wanted to go back home and cry, until you felt a hand pick up yours.

“Come on, amor. I know this is your favourite song. Nobody puts baby in the corner.” He winked and pulled you to the middle of the dancefloor.

You were stunned. Not only did he know your favourite song, but he had also quoted a line from Dirty Dancing, the movie you always watched during airplanes ride. It was your job to know his favourite food, his preferences; but he had gone out of his way to learn your habits and your favourite things. This was the most romantic thing that has ever happened in your life. This only usually happened in movies like Dirty Dancing. You just stood there, not moving, too shocked to do anything.

“What’s wrong, dulce?” Fernando asked, worriedly. Your nickname, the smile he reserved just for you, his lingering gaze, the info he had gathered on you; it all made so much sense now. He wanted you, just like you wanted him.

You grabbed him by the collar like you had wanted to do all night, and you started to kiss him right there, in the middle of the dancefloor. He did not hesitate. He immediately kissed you back and put his arms around your waist.

This was the best kiss you had ever had. Years of wanting him made you desperate like that, and apparently, he was desperate for you, too. He tasted like sugar and spice and everything nice but also like “I’ve wanted to do this all night” and “Wait, no, I’ve wanted to do this for years”. You were in synch; the world could have stopped, and it wouldn’t have changed anything. You didn’t even think for a second about that other guy, nor did you think about people watching you. Most everyone though you were already together anyway.

“Am I dreaming, baby?” you said as you pulled away. He softly cupped your face with his hands.

“No, dulce. I have been dreaming of kissing you, though.” Your heart melted.

“You have?” You asked in a soft voice. He kissed you again, but it was slower this time, more delicate. He wanted you to realize how badly he cared for you and how long he had been dreaming of this. Was this real? You had never felt as adored as you felt at this instant. People were all around you, dancing and enjoying themselves, but it was like you were alone with Fernando, in another world, on another planet.

“Amor. Surely you must know that I care more for you than anyone else. You’ve always been more than my assistant. I’m happy to call you my friend, but I hate it at the same time because I can’t stand the thought of us being just friends.” He caressed your face. The vulnerability in his eyes touched you to your core, and his words send a wave of heat through your body. This was the most romantic thing that has ever happened to you, but also the hottest. He caused some serious butterflies in your tummy.

“Baby, I don’t like us being just friends either,” you replied, your lips only a few centimeters away from his. He stared hard at your swollen mouth and crashed his lips on it. You locked your arms behind his neck, and he put his large hands around your waist to get a better grip. Oh gosh. He had only kissed you, but he had already ruined you for every other guy out there. One thing for sure, your panties were wet already, and from the bulge you felt on your thigh, he was enjoying himself too.

“Dios mio, amor. I should have done this earlier,” he chuckled and looked at the ceiling. This man was turned on. Like, sooooo turned on.

You leaned in even closer to whisper in his ear: “Don’t worry baby, we’re just getting started.” Your lipstick lingering on him, his perfume on you, the heat in your body, it was all overwhelming, so when he asked you “Do you want to get out of here?”, you were quick to answer: “Yes!” and to lead him out of the party.

Fernando was holding you close to him while you two waited for the valet to bring out his car. You were blushing and giggling like a teenage girl because you finally had the man of your dream in your arms. He kept giving you kisses, and it was like he could not believe it was now allowed.

You first saw it out of the corner of you eye. It was a real beauty, and you were in awe of it. The valet got out and gave back the keys of the green Valkyrie to Fernando. You wanted to scream. Surely, you must be in a rom-com. In your wildest dreams, this was the car the picked you up in to go on a date. You were like a kid in a candy store.

Fernando smiled at your enthusiasm. “I know it’s you favourite, dulce.” He opened your car door and you shrieked when you got inside.

“Oh, baby, this is way too good!” You were busy with touching the leather of the seat and admiring the interior. He had taken you on hot laps before, but never in this car. Apparently, he was saving it for a special occasion.

“I’m glad you like it, amor.” He started the car and drove off smoothly into the night. Wow, this guy is good at driving, maybe he should do it professionally or something?

As the air hit your face, you were hit by a wave of happiness. You shouted at the world: “I was made to be doing this!”

The Spaniard put his hand on your thigh and replied in a sensual voice: “Si, amor. You were made for me.”

Fernando drove really fast, but you wanted to get to his place so badly that it was not nearly fast enough. His hand slowly going higher and higher on your thigh was not helping your sudden need for speed.

Finally, you arrived at his place. Like a gentleman, Fernando opened your car door. Unlike a gentleman, his lips immediately crashed on yours. You two danced a frantic tango to get to the door of his place, your mouths never apart for more than a second. Eventually, you managed to get inside.

“I need you so bad, baby. I’ve needed you for years.” You immediately kicked off your high heels and started to remove his suit jacket. Your words must have pleased him, because his hands started exploring your body and he gently bit your lower lip. He pushed you against the wall.

“Oh yeah? Why didn’t you say anything before?” Honestly, why didn’t you? Dumb bitch.

You felt your eyes roll back in your skull when he cupped your boob with one hand and your ass with the other, his mouths still leaving love bites all over your neck.

“I wish I did. I’m so stupid.” The tango was back because you tried to move the action to the bedroom. He obviously knew the layout of his place by heart and so did you, since you had been there many times before, yet none of you seemed to know where it was.

“Amor, you know that I’m never letting you go after that, right? From now on, you’re not just my assistant. You’re mine, and I’ll make sure that everyone knows that.” You crashed into the walls many times as you made your way to his bedroom. Pictures were shaking, just like your legs. The walls of his house trembled, just like your walls did.

He finally managed to lead you to his bedroom, and he put you down on his bed. Fernando laid on top of you and leaned down to your ear: “Say you’re mine, dulce. Tell me you belong to me.”

His weight on your body felt so good, but you were aching for more. You craved any kind of friction to ease the heat between your legs, so you started to rub yourself against the bulge in his pants. It’s not like you didn’t want to answer him, it’s just the way he moved on you that left you speechless. Your toes curled and you started to moan, and although the way he let you move on him like that told you he liked it, this wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

Fernando pinned your wrists on the mattress. “I’m not playing anymore, little girl. Tell me you’re mine, or all of this will stop.” You immediately answered him between two moans: “I’m yours, baby. I’ve always been yours, and I always will be.” He grunted like an animal at your words, and you lifted your hips to have more of this delicious friction. He started to make out with your throat while you unbuttoned his white dress shirt as fast as you could. You were tracing lines on his chest with your fingers when he abruptly stopped. “Wait, wait, wait, mi amor. This wasn’t supposed to be like this.” He sat on the bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Was he regretting this already?

He continued, looking pained and disappointed with himself: “I’ve thought about this before. I was suppose to take you on a nice date, then ask you to come home with me. I would’ve driven you around town in your favourite car, then I would make love to you slowly, so you would know how much you mean to me. This feels rushed. I want to take my time with you. At least, I got the Valkyrie part right.” You wanted to swoon after his rambling. He looked so upset, you wanted to cry out of empathy and love for this man. He nicknamed you “dulce”, but really, he was the sweet one.

“Fernando, baby. There’s nothing I would change about this night so far. This is a thousand times better than any date you could have taken me on.” You put your hand on one his cheek.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin things between us. I want to treat you right, because you deserve the world, amor.” If you weren’t certain you loved this man before, now you were.

“Baby, being with you feels better than owning the world. I’ve never been as happy as I am right now, and you couldn’t be more perfect. But if it makes you feel better, we can start again.” He started to calm himself by massaging your calf.

“How, amor?” It was hard to focus, because him sitting on his bed with his dress shirt open was quite the sight to see, but you managed to reply: “Like this.”

Although it pained you, you removed his hand from your body and got up from the bed to exit the bedroom. Confused, he followed you all the way to the doorstep outside.

“What are you doing?” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I had a really nice date with you this evening, Fernando.”

“Ah, I get your little game now.” He laughed and gave you a tender kiss, the one you assumed he used for his first date. You hoped he would never use it ever again. “Me too, dulce. Would you like to come in?”

You gave him a flushed smile. “I would love too, baby.” He took your hand and brought you inside. “Shall I give you a tour?” he asked. You replied: “Oh yes, absolutely. I would especially like to see the bedroom. I hear it’s where you burn all your left-over energy.” He smirked at you playing innocent.

When you got close to his bedroom door, you stopped to give him your second-date kiss. You never kissed with your tongue until after the first date, and he knew that. “This is your famous second-date kiss, yes?” You laughed against his mouth. “Oh yes. And on the third date, I usually sleep with the guy.” His breath hitched, and he brought you inside the room.

“When I first sleep with a woman, I usually start by removing her clothes.” He spun you so your back was facing him. You lifted your hair and he slowly, oh so slowly started to unzip your dress, making sure to let his fingertips linger. This felt like the longest foreplay of your life. When your dress dropped to the floor, you shivered, and he turned you to get a better look at your body.

“Dios mio, amor. You’re so beautiful.” He stared at you in adoration, eyes filled with lust and something that you would not dare to call love, even though that’s what it was.

You flushed and tried to look away, but he lifted your chin with his fingers. “Thank you, baby,” you replied shyly. He removed his already unbuttoned shirt. “I think I’ve taken enough my time, amor.”

“I don’t think I can wait anymore, Fernando. I need you inside of me.” Your words send him into action. He very carefully lifted you to the bed, and he laid you there like a pastry he was about to devour.

“I think you’ll have to be patient for a little while, dulce. I want to treat myself to something sweet.” He dragged you to the edge of the bed and he got down on his knees.  He put your legs over his shoulders, and he got down to eat you. Oh, God. He ate you like a man starved. You were his own personal meal.

His tongue licking you made you scream his name, but what really did it for you was when you saw him touching himself. This man was getting pleasure out of eating you out, and that turned up your arousal to another level.

It wasn’t longue after that you gripped the sheets as hard as you could while you screamed his name. He let your orgasm last by never removing his tongue.

When he got up, shirtless, with a very noticeable bulge, you grabbed him by his belt to bring him back on the bed.

“That was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me, baby. You treat me so good already. But I can’t be patient anymore, I think.” You hurriedly removed his belt and played with the zipper of his pants. He laughed.

“It’s okay, amor. You’ve been a good girl, you deserve this.” Oh. Oh. Since when did you have a thing for praise?

“I’m clean, and I’m on the pill, so you don’t have to wear anything, if you want,” you offered shyly. The enormity of what was going to happen suddenly hit you. Oh God, were you really about to sleep with your boss that you’re kinda in love with?

He let out a possessive growl. “Good, because I don’t want anything between me and you. I need to feel you as you are.” Damn. Were you listening to one of those erotic audiobook or did he really just say that to you?

Fernando once again went on top of you. He adjusted himself and angled his body just right. When you felt the tip inside of you, your eyes immediately rolled to the back of your head. He was so big.

You whined: “Fernando, I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He slowly let himself in you. “You can take it. You always manage to fit things in my schedule. Surely this is nothing to you.” You moaned loudly.

The pain was just too good. “Baby, never putting you in a meeting earlier then 10 in the morning is a thousand times easier than making you fit inside of me.” He chuckled, but as he got more and more deep in you, he started to grunt.

“Amor, don’t get sassy with me now. Take it like a good girl.” You pushed him deeper inside of you by putting your legs around his waist.

“On it, boss.” You usually sounded so confident, but your words were nothing but another cry of pleasure in a sea of moans. You felt your orgasm build up inside of you as he kept pounding into your body. Applying to be his assistant had definitely been the best decision of your life. Who would’ve thought that on top of being paid to travel the world, you would be receiving incredible orgasms on the side?

“Dios mio, mi amor…” Fernando whispered in a low, sensual voice. You shut him up with a fierce kiss.

“Baby, stop saying that. I should be the one to say it, because I’m so fucking close, but I am praying to God that this never ends.” He pounded hard into you.

“Are you thinking about someone else while I’m inside of you? I must be doing something wrong then.” He managed to laugh in between thrusts and grunts.

“I can assure you, boss, you’re doing everything right!” You screamed as your orgasm hit its peak, and you came undone. His thrusts got sloppier as he finished, too. He looked at you and wished that everybody could see him dripping out of you. Not now, but maybe someday, he won’t let anything spill because he’ll be trying his hardest to put a baby in you. For now, this already perfect view would have to do. He took a mental picture.

Fernando rolled off of you and sat against the headboard, breathing heavily. He pulled you in his arms in a tight grip and started playing with your hair. With your swollen lips, the light layer of sweat on his body and both of you tangled in each other, you looked like the cover of the dirtiest romance book you owned.

“Am I allowed to say it now? Because dios mio, amor. That felt incredible.” He sighed in your hair. You blushed, pleased that he had enjoyed himself as much as you did. The man of your dream just rocked your world, and he liked doing it.

“Yes, you are allowed, baby. You gave me two orgasms; you can now say anything you like.” You laughed and turned your head to give him a quick kiss.

“Only two? Dulce, that’s not enough. Do we have anything planned tomorrow?” Your heart jumped in your chest at his use of “we”. It was very endearing an it made your heart ache from happiness, but if he used “nosotros”, you might just come on the spot.

“No baby, we have nothing planned.” As his assistant, you obviously knew his schedule by heart, and tomorrow morning, he was now booked and busy with the task of giving you pleasure all day long. You made a mental note to add it to the calendar.

He sighed in pleasure and closed his eyes. “That’s perfect, amor. I have an idea of what we could do.” His breath slowed down as he fell in a state of deep relaxation.

“Really? Tell me?” You couldn’t help but to shut your eyes. Being in his arms was too comfy.

“First, we’re going to wake up in each other’s arms. After that, I’ll make you scream my name, but I’ll have to put something over your mouth to not wake the neighbors.” You shivered at his perfect fantasy, but he wasn’t done. “After that, I’ll bring you breakfast in bed, to give you energy for what will come next. All afternoon, I’ll take you in every single location in my house, perhaps even outside, to find where you come the quickest. Finally, I’ll take you out for a nice dinner, to show off your hickeys to the world.” Your toes curled. This was even better than your wildest sex dream involving him.

“Sounds like a plan, then.” He locked you in his arms, and you both drifted to a light sleep. You woke up, suddenly realizing something: “Oh no!” Fernando jerked awake. “What? What’s wrong, dulce?”

“I forgot to say bye to my date! Oh no, I’m awful. I don’t want to hurt his feelings,” you replied, genuinely worried. Fernando laid his head on your shoulder, and you felt him shake as he laughed.

“Dios mio, dulce, only you could be worried about making another man feel bad while being in bed with me.” He was howling with laughter.

“What!?I like to be nice!” Fernando chuckled at your sweetness.

“I know, dulce. And I love you for it.” He kissed the top of your head.

Being his assistant was easy, but you were now applying for the position of girlfriend. He hired you on the spot, and let me tell you, you were damn good at the job. The boss was pretty nice, too. Your bonuses now came in the form of "I love you."

Since you were a loyal employee, the position was taken for life.

[tim-shii]

📱 break the internet !

sypnosis: you, blue lock boys and tiktok trends. what could possibly go wrong?

features: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin

a/n: not proofread i apologize also let me know if you want a part 2 !

okokokok / lalalala — isagi yoichi

isagi is the lalalala and the okokokok. he is both. he rambles to you a lot. talking about the things he passed by while on the way to you or maybe he'll talk to you about his most recent game where he scored the last goal. you don't know a lot about soccer? that's okay! isagi is more than happy to discuss to you how the game works and the terms commonly used on the field. 

however, isagi is also a great listener. he looks at you and focuses only at you as you talk. maybe you're complaining about your professor who loves torturing his students by assigning a new homework every hour. or perhaps you were telling him the latest gossip in the hollywood scene, god knows a new one pops up every two days, or maybe minutes. 

he's attentive to every word you say. and when you bring up the topic again another day, he butts in and smiles widely when you applaud him for remembering. it's like he has the key words and important notes listed in his head. of course, this also applies to everything you say in passing, whether you said it intentionally or not. 

on a monday morning, isagi will randomly knock at your door. a necklace in hand, one you mentioned during your date night five weeks ago.

heart photobooth — bachira meguru

bachira was the one who showed you the trend. braging in your shared room with a wide grin on his face before belly flopping beside you on the bed. he pushes the phone in your face, excitedly chanting let's do it! let's do it! so you say yes, of course. who can ever say no to him anyways.

he proposes to do three videos of the same trend. one with him doing the frames, another with you and one with both of you alternating to do the frames of four sides. you start off with being the frame. as you follow your arm along the line shown on screen, bachira runs around behind you trying to pose quickly as the timer before each snap is no longer than five seconds.

you laugh under your breath as bachira runs around, almost toppling over several times until he finally does. he slips on a lone sock laying on the ground and fell on his back. gasping, you run to his side and grab his face, silently muttering if he has a concussion or not. bachira only laughs at you then pulls you down with him, you head resting on his chest.

at the end you guys only got to film one video. but on the good side, said video went viral and many comments talk about how you two are such a cute couple and bullying the hell out of the sock bachira slipped on.

half and half heart on each other's cheeks — itoshi rin

convincing rin to do this was easy. just say you want a wallpaper and he's agreeing almost too immediately. he has thoughts of backing out when he sees you pull out a tube of lipstick though. he scoots closer when you usher him to. phone stood on a water tumbler, recording each passing second. 

you grab his face with one hand, turning so his left cheek is facing you. you drag the pigment in an almost c shape pattern along his chiseled features. smooshing your cheek with his as soon as the lipstick leaves his face. he grunts as he was taken aback, grabbing on your waist for support. he looks at you with a love in his eyes when you pull away and saw a matching c shape mark on your cheek. 

reaching out to stop the video, you pull rin closer to you again. this time, angling his face so a heart forms in between you two. seeing you struggle to take the photo, rin takes the phone into his arms and stretched out his arm, clicking it after. he pulls away from you to admire the picture. exiting the camera app and opening his contact to send the picture to himself at that very moment. he kisses your cheek while you're editing the video, chin propped up on your shoulder, warm breaths hitting your neck.

unfortunately, his teammates saw the video going around tiktok and constantly spams his phone. best believe, the only thing they're receiving from him is his cold shoulder and death glares. he's happy he has a new lockscreen though. and a cute one at that.

likes & reblogs are appreciated !

[favefandomimagines]

Love is a Battlefield (j.m)

Request: Idk I don’t have like a request request but anything with jj maybank honestly okay or maybe the way 13 going on 30 randomly popped in my head like maybe Jenna and matty vibes @idontevenknowbsblog

Summary: JJ Maybank had been your best friend since you were 4 years old and then life started to complicate things.

AN: this is a long one lol and maybe not as close to Jenna and Matty but definitely a best friends to lovers, I got carried away lol not edited

Your mom would joke that it was fate for JJ Maybank to end up in your life. It was fate that her and JJ’s mom would be in the same lamaze class. Because of fate and that friendship, it formed the relationship you cherished the most. JJ was a constant. If there was one thing you could rely on, it was JJ always being there.

Even after his mom left, JJ was there. Moreso after Luke began the drinking and the drugs. It was often a point of contention between him and your mother. She felt she owed it to her long time friend to look after her son and Luke put JJ in danger every day.

Kindergarten started with you and JJ, and ended with you, JJ, John B and Pope. The four of you becoming an instant package deal.

The three of them were there when your dad passed away suddenly when you were 10. Though John B and Pope were supportive, JJ never left your house. Sleeping in a sleeping bag outside your bedroom door for weeks.

It was the four of you navigating your adolescence up until the age of 14. The Summer before sophomore year started with four and finished with five.

Kiara became a fast friend when her parents opened The Wreck and you needed a Summer job to keep you busy. The rest was history, Kie’s Kook year being nothing but a snide comment here and there.

JJ joked that you were the glue that held the Pogues together. If they didn’t have you they’d all fall apart. He loved you since you were 14, all throughout high school and he never said a thing. You staying in his life was more important than how you stayed in his life.

Now you were quickly approaching graduation. You hadn’t been too open about your post-grad plans and that worried him.

He was worried you were going to leave him and never come back. Was it overdramatic? Sure, but it was also realistic. You were always too good for him and maybe that’s why he never told you how he felt.

It was the night before the first day of senior year and the Pogues were sitting around the fire at the Chateau.

“What are everyone’s post-grad plans? We haven’t really talked about it.” John B spoke. “Way to kill the mood, dude.” JJ replied. “Come on, we have to talk about it. We can’t stay at the Chateau forever.” John B replied. “Well, I got into USC. Only a 6 hour drive from you guys.” Kie said.

“I’ll be going to community college on the mainland.” Pope replied. “Starting trade school next fall, open up my own garage here.” John B said. “Y/N, what about you?” Kie asked. “Oh, well, if you would’ve asked me two weeks ago I would’ve said nothing at all but, I do have some news.” You answered.

JJ furrowed his eyebrows at your words. News? What have you not told him? You tell him everything.

“I applied to UNC and I got in. Almost a full ride but I’ll work for the rest of my tuition.” You announced. The Pogues cheered and came to their feet to applaud you. You had always talked about attending UNC ever since you found out your dad had attended.

“That’s amazing, Y/N!” John B cheered. “And only 3 hours from you and J.” You commented. JJ being the only one to not congratulate you didn’t go unnoticed by you. While everyone was occupied, you nudged his foot with yours, signalling to go down to the dock.

You both got up from your spots and walked down to the water in silence. “I know what you’re thinking,” You started. “And what am I thinking?”JJ asked. “You think I’m leaving you. That I’m going to move on from you, find something better.” You continued.

JJ’s silence proved that your thoughts were right. “J, I’m not going anywhere yet. It’s only August, we have almost a year left.” You spoke. “Y/N, this is UNC. You’re going to school, get your fancy degree and move on from your entire life. Me included, you won’t want to hang out with some guy who’s doing nothing with his life.” JJ explained.

“You’re taking over the entire yacht club. That’s a big deal! You’re going to be getting a head start with your life while I’ll be in school for 8 years waiting to start mine.” You replied. “Besides, you think 3 hours is going to keep me away?” You added.

JJ shrugged, his gaze fixated on the water in front of him. “You’re my best friend, JJ. I would never leave you behind.” You added. “Do you promise?” He asked. “I promise.” You said, holding out your pinky in front of him.

“A pinky promise? Come on, Y/N, we’re 18.” JJ said. “And when have I ever broken a pinky promise?” You rebutted. JJ smirked slightly before hooking his pinky with your’s.

XX

It was October. The leaves began to change and the air was becoming brisk. Fall had descended upon the Outer Banks and Fall meant homecoming. You thought you had outgrown the excitement for homecoming but it was your last one. And you thought that maybe homecoming was the perfect time to tell JJ how you felt about him.

Somewhere between 15 and 16, the feelings of love you had for JJ had gone from platonic to the complete opposite. That was why you held off on telling JJ about UNC. Thinking that you two could live in your perfect teenage bubble for a little while longer.

You felt stupid for trying to pursue a relationship with JJ a few months before you left for college but your friendship has withstood the test of time, it could withstand 266 miles. Right? You owed it to yourself to try.

“So, are you going to ask JJ to homecoming?” Kie asked. “How did you know?” You asked your friend as the pair of you stood at her locker. “Because I know you, Y/N. You’ve had feelings for you for as long as I’ve known you. You look at him the same way you look at Paul Mescal.” She teased.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to ask him. I’m terrified he’s going to say no and then I ruined everything.” You said. “He’s not going to say no. And even if he does, you guys have been through too much to let something this small ruin your friendship.” Kie replied.

You wanted to believe her and that everything was going to be fine one way or another bit as you stood outside JJ’s house, pacing, you couldn’t help but think of the worst case scenario. Luke was MIA so you didn’t have to worry about him storming outside.

JJ walked by his front door and heard your voice mumbling outside. He looked out the window and saw you pacing on his lawn. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” JJ asked as he opened the screen door.

“J, hey, uh I just wanted to ask you something. Or tell you something.” You stammered. “You okay?” He questioned. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You said. “What’s up?” He asked.

“Okay, so um, would you want to go to homecoming with me? Either as friends or, uh, more than friends?” You said, avoiding his gaze at all possible. “What?” He questioned. “Do you want to go to homecoming with me? Not as friends but as a date?” You repeated.

JJ thought he was dreaming. Were you really telling him you wanted to go to homecoming as more than friends? But why now? You were leaving for Chapel Hill in the Fall, how is it fair to either of you to pursue your feelings when you’ll just be leaving?

“Y/N, you’re leaving in August. I don’t think you want to do this.” He said. Your face fell as you processed his words. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked. “You’re leaving. Even if I felt the same way, we couldn’t do long distance.” He lied.

JJ lied through his teeth. He had to because he knew you needed to go to UNC. It was your dream, it’s where you always wanted to go. He couldn’t stand in the way of that. It was going to be harder as friends, he couldn’t imagine what it’d be like as your boyfriend.

Though seeing the look on your face made him wish he could take those words back. “Uh, this was a mistake. I should go.” You said, backing away slowly from his front porch.

You were so embarrassed, how could you have misread everything that poorly. “Y/N, we-“ JJ started. “Don’t. Please don’t make me feel worse than I already do.” You interrupted, before turning around and walking home.

JJ could see not only the unshed tears in your eyes, but the hurt as well. He could’ve been honest, told you the truth. He didn’t know how you’d both do long distance once you were in college. He was scared to lose you but he did anyway by lying.

You got home and walked through the front door and saw your mom standing in the entryway. “How’d it go?” She asked. But she could tell by the look on your face that it did not go well.

All you did in response was finally break down in tears. Your mom gave you a solemn look before she walked over and wrapped you in an embrace. “Oh honey, I’m sorry.” She spoke. “I feel so stupid.” You cried. “You’re not stupid, Y/N, you just loved him.”

XX

It was now December. Homecoming came and went and you didn’t go. Two months had gone by and you hadn’t spoken to JJ. You were angry, embarrassed, confused. Why did you think JJ felt the same way? Why did you ruin your friendship like this?

JJ called you everyday, sent texts, but you didn’t want to see or hear what he had to say. You were angry with him for embarrassing you the way he did. And you were stupid enough to think he actually liked you. He was JJ Maybank for crying out loud, every girl in your grade wanted to be with JJ. What made you different?

That meant that your relationship with the Pogues was suffering. You didn’t want to make them choose sides so you made the decision for them and therefore stopped seeing them as often.

But it was now Winter Break and they were determined to figure out what exactly had gone wrong.

“So what’s going on with you and JJ? You haven’t spoke in months.” John B asked as you sat outside your house. “Nothing. What did he tell you?” You questioned.

“Nothing. Just like you. Seriously, Y/N, what happened?” John B questioned. You were quiet for a moment, fidgeting with your fingers.

“I told him how I felt. I told him that I wanted to go to homecoming with him as more than a friend and he rejected me. He doesn’t feel the same way.” You explained.

John B was silent. More so out of confusion than anything else. How could JJ say he didn’t feel the same way when he 100% did?

“Can we please not talk about it? I’m embarrassed enough as it is.” You added, standing up to walk back inside.

John B was going to figure this out one way or another.

He arrived at home and saw JJ’s bike out front. “J?” He called entering the home. “What’s up?” JJ asked, entering the living room. “What is going on with you and Y/N? And don’t lie and tell me nothing. She told me everything.” John B questioned.

JJ was quiet for a moment, knowing that he was going to have to face his mistake. “You have feelings for her, J. Why did you tell her you didn’t?” John B added.

“Because she’s leaving. She’s going to UNC, going to make all of her dreams come true and I can’t be holding her back. What happens if we got together? One, she stays here for me and then down the line resents the fact she stayed instead of following her dreams. Two, I get my heart broken because I fall even more in love with her and she leaves. It doesn’t end well for either of us either way.” JJ answered.

“JJ, you can’t live your life like that. Have you ever thought about going with her? They have jobs in Chapel Hill.” John B suggested. “And be her loser boyfriend who followed her from home?” JJ scoffed. “Now you’re just being a jerk. And being way too hard on yourself.” His friend said.

“It’s the truth, John B.” JJ replied. “No it’s not. You just won’t let yourself be happy.” John B told him.

JJ was quiet as John B walked off to his room. Maybe he had a point. He was finding excuse after excuse to not let himself be happy. But his entire life was based on waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You were the most important person to him and he couldn’t lose you like he’s lost everyone else. What was he supposed to do? The damage was done, you weren’t talking to him. There was no way he could make things right.

His body moved before his brain could catch up, and he was getting on his bike making a run for your house. John B was right. He shouldn’t be letting these things get in the way of something that would make him happy.

When he arrived, he barely turned the bike off before he was already off. He just stood there for a moment, thinking about what he was going to do next. He didn’t really leave with a plan.

JJ looked down at the flower bed and saw small pebbles and his brain kicked into over drive.

He tossed the first pebble at your window, the sound slightly echoing off the glass. After a few seconds, he tossed another one.

You were sitting on your bed reading a book when you heard taps on your window. You furrowed your eyebrows as you discarded the book and walked to the window.

The sight shocked you. JJ was standing outside tossing rocks at your window. You slid your window opened and looked out. “JJ, what are you doing here?” You asked.

“You weren’t answering my calls or texts.” He says. “I know. That was on purpose.” You sassed back. “I want to say…I lied to you,” He started.

“I lied to you the night you asked me to homecoming. I do feel the same way. I have since we were 14 and you punched Rafe Cameron in the nose for making fun of my backpack. You’re my best friend. You’re perfect and I just got scared. Scared that no matter what, we were just going to be another high school couple and never speak again once you leave. I love you, Y/N and I was stupid to make you think that I don’t.” JJ finished.

“Give me a sec.” You said before closing the window. JJ’s heart sank. Were you going to reject him? He felt like he was going to throw up from anxiety.

JJ heard the front door open and moved to stand in front of your porch. You walked out in your seashell pajamas that you bought with Sarah last year.

"Do you mean all of that?" You asked. "You're not just going to bail when it gets hard?" You added. "No, no I'm not going to bail. You're worth it, Y/N. Like you said you'll only be a few hours away. I could be in Chapel Hill by noon on a Wednesday if you said the word." JJ said.

"Then I guess I need to get a UNC Boyfriend t-shirt. If that's what you want." You said. "I'll wear that t-shirt every single day." JJ said, walking towards you kissing you deeply.

You had imagined your first kiss with JJ many times and the real thing was so much better than you had thought.

[janeyseymour]

Hey so I was wondering if you could do a fic about a Melissa X daughter reader where we start working at the school and nobody catches on that we are Melissa’s daughter and the keep putting the pieces together until they finally get it. Maybe something like where Janine and Jacob go to Melissa’s house for cooking lessons and we are just like there and that’s how they find out. Or alternative idea where we are Melissa’s daughter and we start dating someone from Abbott like Ava or Janine and how that would play out. Sorry that’s a lot. Thanks

Relatively Related

written in the midst of the week before spring break and hoping that it isn't absolute trash :)

WC: ~2.5k

Growing up with Melissa Schemmenti for a mother, you saw what it was like being a teacher. You grew up hearing the horror stories that came with being a teacher in a center city school in Philadelphia, and you knew the horrors of growing up in a different part of Philly and going to that neighborhood school. While she didn’t much mind what you did with your life, she had always thought you would be a good teacher. And when you decided to go to college for education at West Chester University, she knew Abbott would take you in a heartbeat. It didn’t even matter that you were her daughter and she was quite the accredited teacher- West Chester’s name had enough to secure you a job anywhere in Philly that you wanted. You had vehemently denied working at her home away from home for quite some time, and yet here you were, with a bit of nudging from your mother, interviewing to become the new third grade teacher at Abbott Elementary. 

“C’mon, hun,” she had sighed over dinner a few weeks ago. “I think if you would give it a shot, you would like it… I know Abbott ain’t no suburban school, but it’s a hell of a lot better than some of the places you’ve applied.”

“I just don’t want people thinking I got the job because you’re my mom,” you tell her truthfully through a mouthful of ziti.

“Y/N, if you wanted the job, I could get it for you without an interview.”

“Isn’t that essentially what would happen if I applied and checked off that I have family within the district?”you challenge as you raise a brow.

She rolls her eyes. “You act like they actually look at resumes. Please, they’ll take pretty much anyone who has a pulse and a certification… how you think I got stuck with Darlene as a part of my team?”

“I guess.”

“And besides, you have your father’s last name… how are they gonna know you’re my daughter if you don’t have my last name?”

You have to admit, she’s right. So you send in your resume. And two days later, you receive an email saying that they’d like to see you for an interview. 

Your interview is practically a joke, and you’re offered a job on the spot. That night, Melissa and her work wife Barbara take you out for dinner.

“To Abbott’s newest member of the team,” Barbara makes a toast to you. “May it take you far in life.”

That was three years ago, and since then a lot has changed. A new principal has come in, there’s been a massive turnover in teachers, and you find yourself as a first grade teacher now. The only thing that hasn’t changed? The only one who knows you’re true identity at the school besides you and your mother is that Melissa Schemmenti is your mother. 

This year, a few new teachers start: Jacob Hill as the eighth grade social studies teacher, and Janine Teagues as the other second grade teacher.

And as much as your mother loves to rip on new coworkers of yours, you find yourself quite drawn to both of them. Sure, they’re a little nosey and love to hear all of the new gossip and find all of the deep secrets that are hidden in the walls of this old bomb shelter turned elementary school, but you like them. They haven’t found you out, not that you or Melissa really care, but it’s quite nice to have that little bubble around the two of you. 

They’ve come close though. Like the time that it came about that you share a name with Melissa’s daughter- who at this point they’re starting to believe doesn’t exist with the lack of pictures or stories.

“I’m telling you, I have a daughter,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she taps away at her phone. “I’m texting her right now.”

That is true- she is indeed texting you. Sure, she’s just texting you to tell you that you need to pick up lentils on the way home, but she isn’t lying to them.

“Show us.”

The redhead rolls her eyes, but she shows the two of them your conversation. “See? I’m just telling her she needs to pick up lentils if she wants me to make dinner tonight.”

Jacob’s brow raises as he catches the name at the top of the screen. “That’s odd… your daughter shares the same name with Y/N!”

“Well that would make sense,” your mother sighs, and you know she’s about to just out the two of you.

“It’s not like my name’s uncommon,” you jump in quietly. “I mean… really. Y/N. Not the most unique name in the world.”

Barbara raises a brow in your direction, and you give her a pleading look. “She’s right,” is all your mother’s work wife says. 

That seems to stop the conversation for now, but the adrenaline rushing through your bones doesn’t quit until you safely pull into your driveway that day- lentils in hand.

“I’m home, Ma,” you call as you open the front door. Her head pokes out from the kitchen. “And yes I got the lentils.”

“Good,” is all she says before heading back into the kitchen. You follow in her direction and set them next to her before picking up the glass of wine she’s already poured for you and sipping on it.

“Aye,” she clicks her tongue. “No hello? No ‘how was your day?’”

“I saw your forty minutes ago,” you snort.

“An’ a lot coulda happened in forty minutes,” she replies. When you raise your brow at her, she sighs. “Okay, so in that forty minutes I drove home, changed into my lounge clothes, and started dinner… but I was also thinkin’-”

“That’s dangerous,” you quip. At the look she gives you, you raise your hands in surrender. You might be a grown woman, but Melissa Schemmenti was still your mother. 

“I was thinkin’… you reacted kinda weird when I went to say that you were my daughter.”

You shrug. “I just don’t see why it’s anyone’s business but ours.”

“There’s gotta be more to it than that, hun,” she says as she stirs in the lentils.

“Jus’ don’t want anyone thinkin’ I’m some sorta nepo baby,” you sigh. “I got this job on my own, an’ I don’t need shit from the Abbott crew.”

“They ain’t gonna give you shit, ‘specially once they know you’re mine, and I know a guy,” she laughs,

“Little do they know, half the time, I’m your guy,” you tease her.

“Well, if that’s what it is, that’s fine. I won’t say nothin’.”

“Thanks Ma,” you smile as you kiss her cheek. “I got some grading to do, so if you have anything that needs graded, just put it next to my stack.”

As time goes on, the group starts to catch on a bit more… like:

The fact that you’re just as good a cook as your mother. You’re always bringing in new things in your Tupperware containers- that just so happen to match Melissa’s… because they came from the same house. You quickly cover that one up with a roll of your eyes and a, “So we both shop at Marshalls, the containers ain’t that special.”

Or when you manage to get pink eye from one of your kids, and Janine notices that you have the same emerald eyes as your mother. “Green eyes aren’t as rare as you think, Janine,” you huff as you grab your lunch from the fridge before leaving for the day.

There’s the instance where you’re getting fiercely protective of your students as one of the teachers from Addington makes their way over to flaunt the fact that they have more resources down the street, and you fold your arms over your chest and square up with the woman in true Schemmenti fashion. That time, Gregory takes notice, but he’s new at this point, and you just roll your eyes as you storm away down to your mother’s room to rant. 

But no one ever really finds out. Not until…

“Kid, I’m having some people over for dinner tonight,” your mother tells you. “You joining?”

“Nah, I have some grading and prepping to get done tonight if I can,” you say. “But can you save me a bowl?”

“For a price,” she smirks.

“Hand me your spelling tests I know you’ve been stalling on grading,” you chuckle. She just points to her bag, and you go and pull them out before heading up to your room. “Have fun with your friends tonight. Love you, Ma.”

“Love you too, you little shit,” she calls back lovingly.

You’ve spent hours grading papers, and now you’re pouring over your lesson plans for the next week. You realize that you should probably do a craft that has to do with the upcoming holidays, and you find a few cute ones online. You know that you and your mother have a plethora of crafting supplies in the basement- you just don’t know what of. So, you start to make your way down the steps when you hear two very familiar voices: Jacob’s and Janine’s.

Knowing though that if you don’t go and look in the basement now, you never will and will just end up buying all new supplies and adding to the ridiculous amount of pipe cleaners and glitter glue you have stashed away.

You make your way through the kitchen. The three of them seem to be deep in a cooking lesson while also snacking on a few of the things your mother had already whipped up and don’t have a clue you’re walking through.

“You need any crafting supplies while I head down and see what we have?” you casually ask your mother as you pass.

You stop to watch as your two coworkers’ heads whip around in a near comical unison, mouths dropped in shock.

“Y/N?”

“Hey,” you give a half-committed wave. 

“What are you doing here?” Janine asks.

You furrow a brow and fold your arms over your chest. “I live here?”

“You live with Melissa?” Jacob gasps.

“Yeah? She’s my mom?”

“She’s your-“ Janine points a finger at you before turning around and looking at Melissa. “You’re her-”

“I told you guys I had a daughter, that she wasn’t fake,” your mom smirks. “You believe me now?”

“How did we never know?!” Jacob admonishes.

“Well, for starters: I don’t have the Schemmenti last name. Secondly, who’s business is it to know who my mother is?” you quip. “You know how private the Schemmenti family can be.”

They both look beyond shocked. “Well, why don’t you join us?”

“I really do have to go check for pipe cleaners and paper plates, and I know how to cook,” you laugh. “But I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

You head down the steps, and you hear your mother call, “The big jawns!”

“That’s what I figured, Ma!”

“What the hell?” Jacob whips around to your mother, and you laugh because you know she’s about to get grilled on the fact that you were indeed her ‘secret’ daughter.

You find what you need before heading back up the steps and for your room. “Have a good night y’all!”

The next morning, you’re sitting in the lounge sipping your coffee and sulking over the fact that you forgot your lunch on the counter this morning. Luckily for you, your mother brings it with her when she sees that you left it on the counter. She slips it into the staff fridge before sending you a text that it’s there. She preps her coffee and settles in next to you to grade a few more papers before everyone else stars trickling in to watch the news.

“Uh, hello?” Jacob questions when he walks in and everyone else is here now too. “Are we not going to talk about this?”

“Talk about what?” you and your mother ask at the same time.

“You two!” He gestures wildly between the two of you. “That you guys are related!”

“You two are related?” Gregory asks with a brow lifted.

“Uh, yeah!” Janine tells him.

“How do you know?”

“She told us last night when she called Melissa ‘Ma’!”

“Why didn’t any of us know this?” Jacob continues on.

“Know what?” Ava asks as she comes waltzing into the lounge to grab a coffee.

“That Melissa is Y/N’s mother!”

“I knew,” Barb states with a smirk on her face.

“Oh, damn! I was starting to think Melissa being a milf was just a rumor. I am happy to find out that it is entirely the truth,” the principal grins. “Greg, grab me a tea bag so I can sip on this tea!”

“There isn’t any tea, Ava,” you roll your eyes. “Yes, Melissa is my mom, but it really ain’t that big a deal.”

“Oh, it definitely is! Why were you so secretive about it?! Hmm?” Jacob asks as he sits next to you.

You shimmy away from him just slightly with a huff. “Because nobody needs to know a Schemmenti’s business except a Schemmenti. And, I didn’t want nobody thinking I got this job because of who I’m related to.”

“Y/N, please. You’re good at what you do, hun! You could get this job without the Schemmenti name, and you did!” Your mother cuts in and jostles you slightly.

“I also didn’t want to hear you-“ you look to Ava. “-calling my mother a milf more than I already do.”

“She is! And now that I see the two of you next to each other, I definitely see where your future is heading too!”

“Ava!” You, your mother, and the rest of the group scold.

The principal just shrugs. “Jus’ sayin’ the truth. Bye, y’all.”

Once she’s gone, you’re bombarded with questions. What’s it like having Melissa for a mother? Is your father really as bad as your mother makes him out to be? What was it like growing up? If you saw the horrors of Abbott, why did you work here? What were you like as a child?

“Enough,” you finally groan. “This is why I didn’t want people knowin’. I may be Melissa’s daughter, but-”

“Isn’t it weird calling your mom by her first name?” Jacob cuts you off.

“I’ve been yelling her first name since I was fourteen and realized she didn’t always respond to Mom or Ma, but always Melissa,” you reveal. “Now: she may be my mom, but I’m still a damn good teacher who got this position on my own volition. And y’all better stop asking these questions, or I know a guy.”

“And I’m the guy,” you mother states proudly, a proud grin on her face.

“No you ain’t. Uncle Vin is my guy.”

“While we’re at it,” Melissa sighs. “Stop asking me to get weed from my guy and just ask Y/N instead. She’s my guy for that.”

[megu-meow]

missin' you crazy - Gojo Satoru

gojo satoru x fem.reader

Summary: moments when Gojo misses you and tries to cope with you being away.

Satoru always did everything so that he wouldn't depend on anybody but himself. Growing up, he was given everything, he didn't have to do anything on his own - that shows when he moves into the Jujutsu Tech dorms and he's the only one incapable of doing his own laundry, however, he always preferred being alone for his emotional well-being. He was conditioned into thinking that friends, family, and lovers were only sources of weakness, and the Strongest must not have weaknesses. But people change in high school and that most certainly applies to the prodigy of the Gojo clan as well. Firstly, he befriends his classmate, a dark-haired kid with the ability of Curse Manipulation, Geto Suguru. The two of them click instantly, despite their different upbringings and their clashing personalities. They wreak havoc around campus together, making every teacher and student aware of their immense power and the dominance they have over the entire Jujutsu World. So when you get admitted to the Tokyo branch of the two existing sorcery schools, you are already aware of the potential your upperclassmen have. However, you're not the type to settle, so you challenge yourself to work hard enough to get to their level, and for the first time, Gojo Satoru meets someone he finds to be intimidating. Not only are you determined and hot-headed, but you're also kind-hearted and gentle. Satoru cannot help but blush every single time you ask him about his well-being or every time you bring him souvenirs from your missions from around the world. Gojo finds himself slowly falling in love with you, a big no-no for him, based on the teaching of his clan members. However, he wouldn't be the Strongest if he let anyone but him influence his decisions in life, so he asks you out anyway and is thrilled when you agree, because no matter how arrogant, spoiled, and insufferable you think he is, he also has a big heart and he's sweet, considerate and gentle towards you.

Over time, Satoru learns that you're sent away abroad a lot, given how your cursed technique consists of you being able to speak any language, imbedded with cursed energy that can manipulate humans, curses, sorcerers, and curse users alike. It's a unique and powerful technique that Gojo admires, one that is considered extremely useful around the globe. And with you, his favorite person on the entire planet, being away comes an unbearable amount of suffering - so he says.

The first time you take on a longer mission overseas, it's around three or four months into your relationship. Satoru is being driven back to campus by an auxiliary manager from the airport, where they dropped you off approximately ten minutes ago. His eyes are glued to the display of his overly expensive flip phone, an obnoxious message from you opened, one full of emotes he would usually consider silly, but his heart aches from knowing that this is the last point of contact he would have with you for the next two weeks. The year is 2006 and cell phones are not developed enough to maintain stable connection across the globe, so he knows he won't hear your voice or see your face until you come back to Tokyo. As soon as he arrives back on campus he looks for Shoko and Suguru, maybe they could distract him enough so that he forgets how much he misses you. It's a new feeling for him, it somewhat pisses him off, not one person was important enough for him before that he would experience how missing someone would feel like, but here he is. Miserable.

"You look rough, champ." Shoko teases from the top of the girls' dorm building, where she and Suguru are sharing a cigarette.

"What happened, Satoru? Did they run out of strawberry mochi at the convenience store?" Geto asks curiously. It's not every day that Gojo's smile is wiped from his face or the bounce is missing from his step.

"No, I don't want mochi right now." the white-haired sorcerer sighs dramatically, as he teleports to the roof and sits down beside his friends.

"Oh, something's definitely wrong. You always want mochi..." Shoko exclaims.

"I KNOW WHY HE'S SULKING!" Geto states with a wide smile, trying to contain his laughter "Didn't our beloved kohai, Y/N leave for a long mission today?"

"You're right, Geto, she did!" says Shoko, while Satoru stays quiet, his eyes focused on the ground under him, his long fingers fiddling with a loose thread on his school uniform. "Do you miss her already, Gojo?"

"I guess so... We didn't spend much time apart since we started dating."

"You're smitten, Satoru!" Geto says matter-of-factly and flicks his best friend in the head to annoy him even more.

"Yeah..." the wielder of the Six Eyes agrees and disappears in an instant, teleporting into his dorm room. He hopes that waking up early and running around helping you pack all day tired him out enough so that he could go to sleep straight away, but he's totally wrong: he's been tossing and turning for hours now, unable to sleep, thinking about how you're so far away, possibly still on a flight to get to your exotic destination. He's huffing, dramatically flailing his limbs around as he turns into his back, eyeing the blank, perfectly white ceiling of his dorm. He remembers the fluorescent stars decorating your room, he thinks about how calming they are when it's pitch black outside and there's no other source of light when he wakes up beside you in your bed in the middle of the night. He turns again and suddenly gets a whiff of your sweet perfume and he shoots up, looking around the darkness surrounding him. He spots one of your plushies that he gave to you on your second date, that time you went to an arcade and he promised he would get you any stuffed toy you wanted. His plan miserably failed, but then he used his technique at ring toss, wielding the air around so that he could succeed and got you the stuffed penguin you were eyeing the whole evening. He picks up the toy, bringing it close to his chest as he buries his nose into the soft fur in between his fingers. It smells exactly like you, a mixture of your perfume, your shampoo, and body wash as calmness takes over his tense muscles. Sleep comes easy after that and the next 13 days fly by just like that, he keeps the toy close to his person the whole time, having it around gives him a sense of security, one that he didn't realize existed while he was around you before.

After 14 days you're finally back in his arms, he's at the airport waiting for you, of course, with a bouquet of flowers and an explosive amount of energy. He swoons a bit when he spots you, in one of his expensive, black sweatshirts and he teases you for wearing it, however, you don't mind, you tell him without hesitation that it was the only item that could provide you the comfort to go through your mission without him. He smiles widely, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, but he doesn't mention his newfound attachment to your stuffed penguin.

The second time you leave for nearly a month, Satoru is dealing with a lot. His best friend just recently left Jujutsu High to become a curse user, a murderer (Gojo hates referring to him as one, but it's the truth). You don't want to leave either, it's evident from the endless tears that are running down your face. You want to assure him, that you love him and you'll always come back to him, but the "L word" is not something you've said to each other before and you know talking about feelings is not the Strogest's forte, so you stay silent, trying to express your strong emotions towards him with long embraces, soft, loving kisses and mindful squeezes to his hands. He understands, more than ever, that you're just as committed to this relationship as he is, he knows you're not going to leave him like Suguru and you will never develop insane beliefs that would turn the entire Jujutsu World against you. You're more level-headed than that. So he decides, he's gonna confess to you, he's gonna admit he's irreversibly in love with you, but no words leave his mouth. He doesn't know why, he thinks it's because he recently lost one of the few people he allowed to get close to his heart and he doesn't want to admit something that would make him vulnerable. The real reason though, is that those words have never been spoken by the Strongest for anyone besides his mother. So he spends the whole time you're away contemplating his decision to let you leave without telling you how he really feels, his brain drifts towards the scene at the airport even while fighting a Special Grade curse he would consider amusingly weak on any other day. He doesn't sleep, he overworks himself, but that doesn't affect him as he conditioned his brain into healing itself constantly. However, at one point the tiredness takes over him and he shuffles instinctively towards your dorm room where he falls asleep instantly in between your familiar sheets. That night he dreams of you, he cannot quite recall the details, but he knows he wakes up with a smile on his face and that's the point where he decides he would tell you he loves you the moment he picks you up at the airport. He does exactly that and you say the words back in between tears because you're an emotional mess every time you two get reunited.

The third time, he's already a teacher at Jujutsu Tech and the two of you have your own house inside the school barriers. Satoru spends a lot of time on missions as well and he doesn't like leaving you completely alone, so knowing that you're safe inside Tengen-sama's protection gives him a level of calmness but he never stops worrying for you. However, it's the first time you're leaving him since you moved into your shared home and he suddenly realizes that home does not necessarily mean a place, but a person. The first time he truly felt at home somewhere was in this exact house when the two of you moved in, but without your music softly playing, the smell of your cooking lingering around and your soft hums/giggles it's not the same. When he gets home late from a mission he notices your absence from the couch, your curled up form waiting for him with tired, but happy eyes. The heater setting is the same as he put it on a few days ago, not slightly higher, because you're not around to complain about being cold. He walks towards your shared bedroom with his head hanging low and he looks around the usually comforting space with a lonely sigh. He walks up to your vanity, your jewelry box open, displaying all the beautiful pieces he gifted you over the years. Images of you wearing them run through his mind, the domestic scenario of you asking him to put on your favorite necklace for you in the morning. He always complies, leaving kisses on your neck and collarbones, inhaling your scent that never changed since high school. His eyes drift towards the slim band around his ring finger and he smiles, because you made an oath to return to him every time you leave.

A few days later you're back, as you get older your missions shorten because you finish them in a smaller time frame than expected. You're cool and talented like that. The house fills with your music and the smell of your cooking again, the giggles can be heard as well after Satoru starts tickling your sides while he admires the smile plastered on your face lovingly.

The fourth time, Itadori walks around campus, looking for his teacher. He's late for class and after an intense battle between the three first-year students, it has been decided that Yuji had to be the one to look for Gojo. However, he's caught by Principal Yaga, whose blood instantly boils upon hearing about Satoru's slacking out.

"Follow me, Itadori. I know exactly where that idiot is." the intimidating adult starts walking down the corridor, towards the staff offices. He guides the kid to your office and he opens the door widely. Yuji steps in and he instantly notices his teacher, fast asleep on your couch with a fluffy, pink blanket around him as he embraces your stuffed penguin close to his chest. This has become routine of Satorus over the years, as he slowly learned how to cope with your absence. He knows you spray both the blanket and the stuffie with your perfume before you leave because you know what he's doing every time. You've received numerous pictures of him in this exact state from Shoko over the years and your heart swells with love every time.

"Whoa, whose office is this?" Yuji asks looking around. He admires all the different memorabilia you’ve collected from your travels around the world.

"It belongs to Y/n-san. Gojo loves sleeping in here when she's away." the principal explains, as he tries to shake Gojo awake, but fails miserably because of his infinity.

"That's a bit creepy, isn't it?" the boy asks, not quite understanding the situation.

"Not when she's your wife and you're the clingiest person to ever walk on this earth."

"GOJO-SENSEI HAS A WIFE?" Itadori exclaims in shock, fishing out his phone from his pocket to text Nobara.

"Yeah, the prettiest one as well." they hear from the couch as Gojo gets up and stretches. "I'm sorry for being late to class, I don't get much sleep when..."

"...your pretty girl is out of town, we know Satoru! Now get back to teaching!" Yaga exclaims and Gojo mutters an obnoxious 'scary' into Yuji's ear.

The boy giggles and they both leave towards the classroom they're supposed to be in. As soon as they get there, Nobara bombards them with millions of questions, demanding to see pictures of the 'idiot that tolerates Gojo' and is surprised when Megumi scoffs at her, warning her not to refer to you as an idiot. However, Satoru is glad to show them all his favorite pictures and he tells the kids stories about you, ones that are new to Megumi as well. Gojo Satoru is not alone anymore, on the contrary, he hates being alone. However, over the years he learned how to cope. At least he knows you will always come back to him, no matter what. As long as he's surrounded by your scent, your belongings, Megumi, his other students, and the stuffed penguin is close by, waiting for you to come back is not as hard as he first imagined.

[pollymorgan]

Ex-husband Negan Part 1

Warnings: Negan is a total asshole, but hot!

When I first saw Negan, almost exactly 29 years ago, I had no idea what important role he would play in my life. I was just a naive girl, instantly infatuated with this rebellious, outspoken, handsome motorcyclist who didn't follow any rules and did his own thing. Just a few days after that first meeting, he became my first serious boyfriend.

Love is blind, they say, and that certainly applied to me. I put up with all his mistakes, lies, and escapades for three whole years until I finally had enough and ended things. The pain and disappointment overshadowed my life for a long time. But if you think you learn from your mistakes, then you don't know me. When I was in my late twenties, this guy had drawn me back in and even convinced me to marry him.

Had he changed? Not at all! Despite his constant assurances. But maybe he simply can't help it. Negan remains Negan. In the cursed seventh year, I couldn't take it anymore and filed for divorce. Not because I didn't love him anymore, in fact quite the opposite, but the disappointments were just too much to bear.

Despite everything, he had given me the most precious and wonderful gift in my - our life. Our two babies. Gracie and Lizzie. And that fact alone will probably never truly separate us.

The two of them are no longer little, though, but 11 and 17 years old. And my ex-husband is the best father i could imagine. It seems like he wants to make up for all the mistakes he made with me through them.

They love their father more than anything, and that alone makes me incredibly happy. That's why I can't hate him, even though I have pretty good reasons to.

Just now, the three of them spent the last weeks of summer vacation in a cabin in the mountains. The fact that my media-crazed girls wanted to spend their free time fishing, swimming, and hiking, all without cell phone reception, fascinated me immensely. They probably would have thought I was crazy if I had made that suggestion to them.

It was strange not having my daughters in the house, but I also enjoyed the peace a little. It had been quiet around me for a long time.

My new partner, an architect from the office where I work, and I had been arguing more and more in recent months. Last week, it even escalated to the point where he moved into a hotel. Fortunately, Gracie and Lizzie weren't home.

I wanted this relationship to work so badly, but apparently it was doomed to fail. Steve is the complete opposite of Negan - calm, down-to-earth, perhaps even a bit boring, but I thought that after everything I had been through, that's exactly what I needed.

Ironically, what I constantly accuse Negan of, that he can never maintain a long-term relationship, unfortunately seems to apply to me as well.

But today, I tried to push my worries aside because my daughters were returning from their vacation, and I was looking forward to being able to hold them in my arms again after two weeks.

I was just about to put their favorite casserole in the oven when my phone rang.

"Gracie, my darling!" I almost shouted into the receiver.

"Hello Mom, we're on our way back now!" she replied.

"When will you be here? ... Dinner won't be ready for another hour.."

"Dad, how much longer do we have to drive?" I heard her ask.

When I heard Negan's response faintly in the background, my expression hardened and I looked at the clock in shock.

"Another 5 hours???" I asked incredulously.

It was almost 6 PM and school started tomorrow. Negan had promised me that they would be back in time for dinner.

"Sweetheart, can you please give me your father on the phone..." I spoke as calmly as I could into the receiver, and Gracie immediately handed the phone over.

"Hello, my beautiful..." he said with his unmistakable, deep voice that still gave me goosebumps after all these years.

At his words, I couldn't help but smile, even though I wasn't really in the mood for it.

"Negan, damn it, you promised to be back for dinner, the kids have to go back to school early tomorrow morning.." I said seriously.

I heard an irritated grunt from him, then he replied, "I didn't know that you bourgeois have dinner promptly at 6, but now seriously... our girls wanted to see a waterfall, and you know I can't deny them any wishes. I'll bring them home safely, I promise."

"I know..." I whispered into the receiver and then emphasized louder, "...but that's not the point!"

After the call, I turned off the oven in exasperation and sat down in front of the TV with a glass of red wine, trying to distract myself with some silly soap opera to prevent my anger from escalating even further, but it wasn't really working.

"It's okay, nothing happened, they're just coming home a bit later," I tried to reassure myself, cursing Negan inwardly. He broke every promise he made to me with such ease.

The hands of the clock seemed to stand still, or at least that's how it felt to me. Time passed agonizingly slowly. I started preparing everything for Lizzie's school day tomorrow. She would be so tired in the morning, and I already felt sorry for her.

By 10 PM, I was standing by the window, staring out into the dark night, while the table was set and dinner was ready. After what felt like an eternity, the car finally pulled up with my family.

My two girls jumped out of the car beaming with joy, and that dashed any hope I had that they might have slept a little during the drive.

I immediately opened the front door, and Lizzie ran into my arms.

"Mama, I caught the biggest fish of all..." she shouted from a distance.

"That's amazing, did you have a lot of fun?" I asked her, holding her tightly in my arms, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair.

"It was the coolest vacation ever!!!" she said convincingly and then rushed into the house. My eldest approached me more slowly, but she too had a big grin on her face. Gracie had inherited her father's smile and knew exactly how to get away with everything with me. She had to use it quite often, considering she also inherited Negan's temper. I pulled her into my arms as well and was once again taken aback by how grown she had become. There wasn't much left of my little girl; she already seemed so mature.

"It was really cool, Mom," she said coolly.

Then my gaze fell on Negan. Damn, after all these years, just seeing him made my heart beat faster. With my arms crossed, I tried to glare at him as menacingly as possible, but he just smiled and planted a way too long kiss on my cheek.

The smell of his aftershave and the feeling of his lips on my skin took my breath away for a few seconds. I quickly composed myself and swallowed hard.

As he tried to enter the house as if it were the most natural thing in the world, I stood provocatively in his way.

"Thanks, Negan! Have a good night, get home safely..." I said.

Lizzie came running back immediately. You could hear her running on the parquet floor from a distance.

"Can't Dad eat with us?" she asked, completely excited.

"It's already late, my dear..." I replied firmly, ruffling her hair, but not breaking eye contact with Negan.

"Is Stevieboy projecting his jealousy again, or why can't I even take a damn step into my family's house?" he asked, slightly amused.

Shocked, I looked at him. I was used to his remarks, but claiming something like that in front of our youngest daughter shocked even me.

"My husband isn't here... he's on a business trip!" I lied.

"Husband? If anything, he's more like your friend, or rather your companion for this phase of life..." Negan corrected me provocatively, underlining his statement with another grin.

Gracie returned to the door as well. "Dad drove forever, can't we eat together at least? We can show you some really cool pictures. Dad bought us a really awesome DSLR camera..."

I bit my tongue to stop myself from commenting on his unnecessary expenses. How many times had we argued about his inability to handle money in the past? But unlike him, I didn't want to say such things in front of our children. So, I reluctantly stepped aside and gestured for him to come into the house.

During dinner, everyone was talking at once, sharing the wildest stories from their trip. Both my daughters definitely inherited their tendency to exaggerate their stories from their father. But just like him, they always made me laugh with their tales. So, I even shed a few tears of joy as they recounted every detail to me. I felt Negan watching me the whole time, when he wasn't putting on his black-rimmed glasses to find the right picture to match the current anecdote on his camera.

Mid-conversation, Gracie suddenly jumped up as her phone vibrated, "It's David finally...." She ran out of the room with a big smile on her face.

"We won't be seeing her tonight..." I stated, wiping a few tears from the corner of my eye that I had shed while laughing.

"Oh, David... that guy doesn't sit well with me at all..." Negan observed seriously, looking at me somewhat perplexed.

"May I remind you that our daughter hasn't been a little girl for a long time... she's 17!" I chuckled at the fact that it seemed to genuinely bother him.

"David is her boyfriend..." Lizzie chimed into the conversation.

"Sweets, promise me that at least you won't bring a boyfriend home, okay?" Negan addressed our youngest.

"That's nonsense, your mom was 16 when she met your dad... even a year younger than your sister now..." I explained to her.

"That's exactly why this whole thing worries me so much..." Negan cut me off, and as I looked at him, I couldn't help but think back to the night I lost my innocence to this guy. Everything was so perfect back then. I know not many women can say that about their first time. But even though we were both so young, Negan was so tender and considerate with me, yet so confident that he dispelled all my insecurities. And that night was just the beginning of many more, even better... Lost in thought, I bit my lip until Lizzie's words snapped me out of my reverie.

"Can Daddy tuck me in, pleeease...?" she asked.

Smiling, I kissed her forehead. "Yes, of course..."

After everyone had gone upstairs, I started clearing the table, taking my time. I slowly washed the large casserole dish and then loaded the rest into the dishwasher.

"Is anyone checking out this perfect ass?!"

Negan's voice made me jump. I hadn't heard him approach, and as I turned to face him, he was pouring two glasses of red wine as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I had to process the shock for a moment, then I made a dismissive gesture with my hands as he approached me.

"You should leave, it's late... way too late..." I said as convincingly as I could.

The tall man stopped right in front of me and wordlessly handed me one of the glasses. I knew the sparkle in his hazel eyes all too well, and it made my knees weak.

For a while, he just looked into my eyes, then he gently caressed my bare upper arm with his fingertips. Goosebumps formed where he touched me tenderly.

"You were thinking about our first time earlier, weren't you? I could see it in your beautiful eyes..." he whispered softly, while his gaze roamed unabashedly over my body.

I swallowed hard and then looked at him feigning surprise. "No, I don't know what you're talking about..." Why could he still read me like an open book after all this time?

Instead of protesting, he smiled knowingly.

I needed to get away! Away from this situation that always led to the same thing. Determined, I took a big sip of wine and went straight to the small table in the other corner of the kitchen. I needed to create as much space between us as possible to be able to think a bit clearer.

I had left my cigarettes there earlier when I smoked one on the terrace while waiting. Now I took one out of the pack and lit it, leaning against one of the stools.

Steve had strictly forbidden smoking in the house, he didn't like it at all when I did, so I usually smoked secretly behind the shed in the garden. But right now, I didn't care. Steve wasn't here, only Negan, trying to ensnare me in his web once again, as he had done hundreds of times before.

"What's all this about, Negan? Do you need that reassurance to be able to get me into bed?" I asked directly.

Surprised, he looked at me, "Who's talking about me trying to get you into bed? You have quite the wild imagination, that's what I've always loved about you. ... That you were thinking about back then earlier was just an observation, my dear..."

Once again, he came directly towards me. I felt like prey caught in a trap. When he stood in front of me, I automatically spread my legs slightly so he could squeeze between them. I looked up at him, and without breaking eye contact, he took the cigarette from my hand, took a deep drag, and then tossed the rest into the last gulp of his red wine, causing a brief sizzling sound. Only a moment later did he exhale the smoke.

"Damn, you just keep getting more beautiful," he whispered, taking my chin between his fingers.

As often before, I just let it happen. Then he gently stroked my lips with his thumbs, and I tasted his slightly rough skin. It sent little jolts directly to my core, making me nervously shift back and forth on my stool.

"Do you often think about how it feels when I touch you, my sweet? What it's like when my lips explore this perfect body..." he asked in a deep voice, and I could only nod slightly. But then I tried to gather myself again. Gently, but firmly, I pushed his hand away from me and then said, "But it won't happen again, Negan. I can't make the same mistake over and over again..."

[narwhalsarefalling]

rey i need ya gen fic bnha recs

congratulations, i have a whole ass collection. but here's some faves. A collection of both oneshot and multichap!

Gauntlet Thrown - pikahlua

Pro hero Katsuki Bakugou has deigned to apply for a teaching position at UA, and the lucky bastard who gets to conduct the job interview is none other than Shouta Aizawa.

Second Chances - amarisllis

Aizawa’s heartbeat is pounding against Katsuki’s ear, so loud and fast that it blocks out everything else. Katsuki’s arms flail, unsure what to do now that he’s being hugged by his teacher who’s never really cracked more than a tiny smile in their presence before. Wha— Oh. Oh, oh shit. Aizawa is crying. “Sensei—” “You were dead.” His voice breaks on the last word. Oh. Shit.

candid - OwlF45

The Commission passes a new requirement for hero licenses: pass a mental simulation. For Izuku, a holder of One For All, this idea ends in catastrophe. A series focused on the simulation, and everything that comes after.

Switchblade - Cacid

"I’m only two minutes late!” Izuku protested. Had he missed the start of an important test? None of the national, standardized tests were supposed to happen this month and even being two minutes late to one of those wouldn’t elicit this sort of reaction. They were discussing their career interest forms today, but that was it. Nothing time-critical was supposed to be happening. “Midoriya, you were reported missing a week ago. No one has seen you for eight days. The police have been combing the city for you.” "I’m sorry. What?” Midoriya Izuku went missing for a week and turned up in a back alleyway with skills he's never even heard of and no memory of how he came by them. He resigns himself to never learning the truth of what happened to him, but he shouldn't waste this chance should he? He could become a hero with reflexes like these. (Russian Translation available)

Razzmatazz - xylophones

Izuku has plans for everything. He plans out what to say to the cashier when ordering coffee, he plans out his homework before even opening his textbook. He has a whole ten-year plan for how he’s going to get into UA’s hero course and get his hero license fully quirkless. He plans for every wild, unlikely scenario he can think of because his anxiety gets so bad if he doesn’t go through every possible outcome, every way his life could landslide into disaster–– but Izuku never planned for this. For once, he doesn’t have a plan and he doesn’t have time to think of one. All he can see is Yagi-san’s lined, kind face looking resigned as he stares down the villain in his shop. Yagi-san, who is the closest thing to a father figure Izuku has ever had. Izuku doesn’t think. He just moves. (Or: Izuku saves the number one hero, gets a hero license way earlier than anyone wanted, realizes that maybe hero society isn’t as great as he thought it was, and everything just kind of falls apart from there.)

third couch is the charm - laurenshappenstobemyhusband

Shouto trained for years to control his ice. Encasing everything in ice whenever he sneezed, got angry or startled, or just whenever he wasn't paying attention always got him into trouble, and he's glad he finally has complete control over his right side. Unfortunately, he can't say the same about his flames. OR: Todoroki sets three couches on fire, which apparently is too many, so now he has to take quirk control classes with Kaminari and they bond over mutual destruction

All's Well - Vexfulfolly

Trigger + Katsuki Bakugou = One hell of a precarious situation OR What it's like to be a walking bomb.

El Manisero - Lila17

"that fic where Sero runs a peanut cartel at UA"

see it all in bloom - aloneintherain

Todoroki said, “It feels like a family reunion.” (Social media fic, counting down the five months to Class 1-A's ten year reunion.)

and i know these don't REALLY count because they're mine, but here's my OWN gen fics that I had a GREAT time writing

And in the forest, I can be free

His prosthetic leg was covered in stickers. Her hands were stained with marker ink in wonderful multicolor. She could color outside the lines. She could color inside the lines. She could color the skin pink or the hair black or whatever color she wished. She could ignore the lines entirely and just draw whatever she wanted. Chiasaki would have never allowed any of this. She doesn’t freeze or feel that horrible feeling in her chest at the thought of him anymore. Instead she only felt... Something else. It was a warmer feeling, one that settled in her gut. It took a few days of this new feeling to be recognized and named- anger. She wasn’t as afraid anymore, that had grown into anger. How could anything in this so-called “sick” place ever be bad? She admires her color-stained hands, the shoes that were allowed to remain dirty, the softness of fresh mud during a rainstorm under her hands. Sand between her fingers, dust wiped away from glass to reveal a view of the forest. Eri doesn’t care if she’s cursed. She doesn’t care if this entire world is covered in little germs that would make her sick. Eri loves it so much. - A look at Eri and her relationship with cleanliness

Within Rime and Reason

1. He reached up to touch the base of his scar. Somehow, without the red hair framing it, it looked almost like a birthmark. Less of a harsh, angry burn scar and more of a memory. He didn’t look like a man with a tragic past, he looked like a boy. If he wasn’t completely blind in that eye, he would almost believe it was one. “You look so manly,” Kirishima breathes. “No,” Todoroki says with a smile. “I look like my mother. I look womanly.” 2. And suddenly so many pieces of the puzzle drop into place. His eye is unseeing. White pupil. Milky iris. With the skin around it poreless and hairless. Easy to cover up with makeup. Oil-less and unmoisturized. Like a scar. Like a burn. “Todoroki,” Mina says softly. The brush she’s holding drops to her lap. “This isn’t a birthmark I’m covering up, is it?” - Todoroki gets a makeover. Emotional conversations happen.

have fun and enjoy!

[bratbarzal]

On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Three

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

*I say it's an OC, it's just a name and third person POV. I use minor character descriptions because I don’t get on with writing vague reader inserts/YN for long-form, story heavy fics, but I will generally try to avoid including race and body type or really any physical descriptors. I’m always open to feedback on my writing, or how to be more inclusive.

WC: 13k

Chapter Warnings: angst obviously what would this story be without it, poppy and nico having an overdue conversation, nico moping again with his big sad brown eyes, nico being jealous again, drinking, cursing, meddling friends, being stood up, mentions of controlling parents as always, a little touching maybe a little more kissing too and even more meddling friends

Summary: Poppy Jensen’s job with the New Jersey Devils was supposed to be her first big step into adulthood - a way to prove to herself and her overbearing parents that she could make her own way in life. She was never supposed to become involved with any of the players. Becoming best friends with their captain was stupid. Getting her heart broken by him was tragic. Getting knocked up with his child was just plain messy.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Two)

A/N: I have nothing to say honestly just hope you enjoy I really don't know why I struggled writing most of this despite knowing what I wanted to do with it I think just figuring out how I want certain conversations to go and how to get from a to b is pure stresssss I'm not entirely in love with it but what can you do also proofread her? I hardly know her

but if you have anything to say pls send it my way lmao I'd really like to hear any thoughts or opinions 💓

Poppy

Poppy was once told by her good friend, Kelsey, that she would be able to tell everything she needed to know about a guy by the way they answered one very simple question. 

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

She thinks about it more often than she really should, if she’s honest with herself, but Kelsey’s rationale behind each potential answer is actually a stroke of rare genius - and Poppy often finds herself applying the logic to most people that she encounters.

Guys who say super speed are the ultimate red flag. No one wants a quick finisher, no matter how fast they may be in any other aspect of life. Some things specifically require time and patience. Sacrificing your partner’s satisfaction all to say you can run the world record fastest 5k is the ultimate ick.

There’s an argument to be made for the endurance choosers, it sure has its perks, but Poppy thinks it’s a boring pick. To be given the option of any superpower, and to choose perseverance, of all things? Get a life. 

Anyone who chooses x-ray vision is a certified pervert, obviously. The same could be said for those wanting to read minds, although most of the guys Poppy has seen in her life struggle to comprehend the things she says in plain words, never mind whatever nonsense is circling through her inner thoughts. 

Those who choose flying are one dimensional, rarely able to see beyond what’s right in front of them, because, if they could, they’d choose the much better option of teleportation.

Who chooses flying when you could just think about somewhere and instantaneously arrive? With your hair in tact and no risk of bumping into any territorial birds.

Teleportation is what Poppy would have picked if anyone would have asked her a week ago, for the mere fact that commuting anywhere is the bane of her entire existence, and if she thinks too hard about it or looks to much into it, it always has been. 

She associates it with sitting in the back of her dad’s Bentley as a child, a tangible, frosty silence lingering in the air between her parents after one of their many even-toned arguments disguised as discussions, the fresh pine scent making her car sick and the leather seats making the back of her thighs sticky. 

Or the fragile bones of her hand being crushed by her mother’s tight grip as they rode the Amtrak over to Manhattan, Priscilla sneering at anyone who dared step too close on the crowded carriage, Poppy being dragged throughout department stores in the name of mother-daughter bonding time, and clutching to a tiny consolation Macy’s bag housing a sparkly lip gloss like her life depended on it the whole way home. 

She thinks of all the hours of her life she’s wasted on the Palisades Parkway, no longer able to enjoy the scenic route whenever she has to drive back to her parent’s house in Alpine after having watched one too many crime shows where a broken down car leads to a girl’s face plastered all over the news.

Even driving to work can feel like hell when the traffic is bad, what should be a 30 minute drive sometimes turning into an hour, Poppy’s fingers cramping around the wheel and her feet itching to touch solid ground after too long.

Teleportation sounds perfect.

And, there’s even a romance element to it. Being whisked away to Paris in the blink of an eye, suddenly sitting outside a boulangerie, decadent, rich hot chocolate on a table in front of her and a plate full of pastries, all because she mentioned a slight craving for a pain au chocolat. 

Teleportation has always been the only correct, green-flag answer to the question. 

Until Poppy properly considered time travel, that is.

The concept of it has always been a little too much or her to handle - too many strange loopholes, too many bad examples from the sci-fi movies her brother had loved as a kid. Travelling back in time to when her parents were her age and accidentally capturing her adolescent father’s attention à la Marty McFly? Sounds like hell and horror to Poppy. 

But that was before she screwed everything up.

If she could have any superpower right now, currently weighed down with the burden of hindsight - which people have always told her is a funny thing, but she thinks is actually somewhat diabolical - she would pick time travel a thousand times over.

Because if human beings have a specific part of their brain that is dedicated to forcing them to sit and stew on their every poor decision for days on end - lets them rethink and regret everything until they’re blue in the face, and can’t think of anything other than how idiotic they have been - it should also offer the kindness of being able to go back and change what they so royally fucked up.

That’s what Poppy thinks, at least, as she throws herself down onto her bed, her back hitting the duvet in a whoosh and all she can do is stare at the ceiling and wonder how and when she became such a certified moron.

There’s a part of her that suspects it’s in her genes. Inevitable. Unavoidable. Nature and nurture, she was born and raised to be a full blown fool.

Poppy comes from a long line of privilege, and while it does take a certain element of intelligence to amass the wealth her family has, it also tends to go hand in hand with ignorance in its many forms.

Behind every fortuitous business move her father makes are a million other mistakes - failed ventures, bad investments, shoddy pieces of advice accepted from the untrustworthy snakes he surrounds himself with. Hidden beneath every rung of the social ladders her mother has managed to climb, there are the ugly faux-pas’ slipping through the cracks of a former, more unsavoury life she can never run too far from. And her brother - well, she suspects he’s just an idiot, there are no two ways about it.

She knows that she needs to stop blaming her family, though. This time, it’s all her.

She can’t blame her father for the way she overthinks, the man who makes every decision in life with the littlest regard for how anyone else feels about it. She can’t blame her mother for the way she places such little value on herself, the woman who walks into every room like she owns it and refuses to let anyone make her think otherwise.

Except maybe she can.

If she had the nerve to talk to a therapist, they might disagree - might say her overthinking comes from her dad’s lack of communication skills, a part of her brain always filling in the gaps of a half-assed, other side of any conversation with him. Or they might say her insecurities come from her mom constantly putting Poppy down while telling her to be more sure of herself - stop slouching, Poppy, no one will take you seriously with the posture of a candy cane.

She’d love to know where her need to repress her feelings so deep that she becomes an impenetrable, cold, dark fortress comes from. The need to push and shove when someone tries to get too close, because God forbid anything is ever easy when it comes to her affections.

It would have made the past 4 days since Nico had walked into her apartment and kissed the life out of her a whole lot easier. 

4 days spent reminiscing, rethinking and regretting every single thing she had said and done since their lips parted, since he had put his heart on the line and she’d whacked it away, full swing, as if too desperate for the victory of a last-bat home run.

If she could time travel, she’d do the whole thing over.

-

“Don’t go on that date, Mohn.”

She had read the words on his lips before they registered through her ears, the sound of her blood rushing throughout her body occupying every sense for a brief moment.

What the hell is going on?

Nico had kissed her. He’d grabbed her, pulled her into him, and she’s pretty sure he had made her heart stop for a good second - there’s no other justifiable reason for the way it had been reverberating against her ribcage ever since. 

And then he stood before her, a desperate, pleading projection playing in his dark irises, lips still slick from where her own had just been, cheeks flushed, shoulders rising with subtle panting breaths, waiting for a response to a question she couldn’t even remember hearing.

“W-what?” She’d stuttered, blinking hard and shaking her head as if to rattle her brain into whatever semblance of cognisance she could muster.

Nico had kissed her, and then wanted to talk? As if she had the brain power left for any kind of discussion after that?

He seemed proud of the mess he had made of her, lips lifting at one side, drawing her gaze immediately to every movement they made, so focused on the memory of how pillowy-soft they had felt against hers that she didn’t notice him stepping a little closer, raising a large hand to tuck her hair behind her ear until she flinched at the contact.

“Sunday, Poppy,” he had uttered, unfazed by her skittishness, “Your date, don’t go.”

She had blinked again, completely overwhelmed on every front. She could still taste him on her tongue, he was so close she could smell his cologne, tunnel vision only seeing him in front of her and the hand that cupped the side of her face in her peripheral, her heartbeat echoing through her skull and every nerve, every slight hair on her body, standing as if trying to close the distance between his body and hers.

It was the sensory overload that made her go against all other instincts.

“I can’t.” Her voice had sounded like it hadn’t been used in weeks, croaky and unsure, her next words stammered, “I can’t not go, I mean. I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go, Poppy,”

“No, I do.” That had sounded a little surer, the fog in her brain slowly clearing only for something more tumultuous to pass through in it’s place. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Nico blinked once, then again, frustration clear in the furrow of his thick brows as he seemed to stew on his next words, desperate to say the right thing. There was a prolonged, tense beat, before he had asked, “Have you ever thought we could be more?”

“More?”

“More than friends.”

If her heart hadn’t stopped when he had kissed her, it must have stopped then.

His back straight, eyes looking directly into hers, a hopeful, inquisitive gleam shining from within them - he had never seemed so sure of something for as long as she had known him.

Poppy couldn’t stop the little voice in her head questioning, where the hell has this come from?

“Have you?” She had asked with a eyre of disbelief.

 Not once in the years she had known him had he ever made it seem like they could be more. There had always been an unspeakable, undeniable barrier between them. They were friends. They’d always been friends. Just friends.

Friends who spent most of their free, personal time together, friends who bought each other sentimental gifts they’d never get for anyone else, who shared intimate details about their lives and their pasts, and kissed each others heads like a goodbye ritual. Friends who broke each other’s hearts, seemingly beyond repair, without explanation.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I mean,” He had paused, breaking eye contact for a second as if wracking his brain for the right answer, sensing a teetering tension between the two of them. “Yeah. Yes. I have.”

She had narrowed her eyes at him, weighing up the possibility in her mind that she wouldn’t have liked any response he gave to her, every prospective answer causing a flood of doubt and uncertainty to crash in rushing, destructive waves through her mind. “Since when?” She’d asked, trying to level her bite.

If he’d ever thought they could be more, what the hell have they been doing all this time?

“Since I met you, I think,” he had shrugged.

Wrong answer, again.

“And you only bring it up when I have a date with someone else?”

She watched a series of antithetical emotions pass through his features, understanding, confusion, acceptance, denial, resilience, cowardice. He had seemed to find the small margins between all of them, when he had come back with, “It’s not because of your date, Poppy.”

“Then why?” She tilted her head as she continued to analyse him, again not sure what she was looking for, or what she wanted to find. That something tumultuous was already whirling within her, too late to be stopped, and Nico could seemingly see the warning signs.

“Why are you getting mad at me, right now?”

“I’m not mad,” she had denied, not even knowing if she was lying or not, “I’m confused. 2 weeks ago, we weren’t even talking, Nico-,”

“You said you forgave me for that.”

“I didn’t-.” She’d cut herself off before she could say something that would upset him, the conversation spiralling so far out of control from the momentary bliss he had provided only minutes ago - but she was too far up shit’s creek without a paddle, there was no turning back. She’d been wanting to have a proper conversation with Nico all week, what better time than the middle of the night on what was now his birthday? “That’s not exactly what I said.”

He had taken a step back, lips parting with an unreleased gasp, the once-hopeful glint in his eyes transforming into hurt. “You don’t forgive me?”

“I didn’t say that either,” she sighed, wanting answers, not to cause him anguish. “Please don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Then tell me what the hell is wrong? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t understand where this has come from, Nico! You come in here and kiss me out of nowhere and tell me not to date other people and I’m just supposed to blindly follow along when I don’t get what the hell is happening with you!”

“I think me kissing you makes it pretty obvious what I want to happen, Mohn.” He had tried to ease the tension, his voice level and steady, stepping forward with his hands raised in an attempt to calm her, but she had taken a slight step back, clearly unaffected. 

“It doesn’t.” She’d stopped looking at him at that point, keeping an eye on his feet to watch his encroaching steps. “Nothing about you is obvious. You don’t tell me anything and all I can think about is what I did wrong.”

If he couldn’t see the tears pooling at her lashes, he had to have heard the break in her voice - a sure indicator that she was close to crying - but his steps had stopped, feet seemingly stuck to their place on the hardwood flooring of Poppy’s apartment, and she could feel her heart shatter knowing he wasn’t persisting again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He tries to reassure her, but it’s no use.

Maybe she would have believed him if he’d held her while he said it, transferred the meaning through touch to her skin, gripping her with every word until she truly understood the weight of them.

“It had to have been something. You don’t just stop wanting to know a person for no reason, Nico, so what was it?” She made her way to her couch, perching on the edge of the seat with her knees pressed together, and looked over to where he remained standing.

She could feel her temper flaring again. 

How could he have the nerve to do this to her - to turn her world upside down in a matter of minutes - and not have the answers she needed to accept it?

“Poppy-,”

“I need to know. I can’t drop it and forget about it, and I’m sorry that I made it seem like I could, but if you want us to move on from this, if you want to come here and kiss me like that, and tell me you don’t want me seeing other people, I need to know what happened.”

“I-,” Nico sighed heavily, shoulders drooping, any confidence and bravado he had displayed after their kiss now a distant memory. “I don’t know.”

She had an immediate, striking thought, that maybe if she asked closed questions, he could give her an answer, and so, with misplaced courage, she asked, “Was it her?”

“What?”

“Your girlfriend. Did she ask you to stop talking to me?”

It was a thought that had been plaguing her for longer than she’d like to admit - unable to shake the idea that maybe Talia had seen one of the texts she had sent, had gone through Nico’s phone and seen any of their older messages, any photos he might have kept on his phone, maybe a memory had come up from snapchat, maybe someone had mentioned Poppy and her curiosity had been piqued. 

Poppy had always thought if she was dating someone, and they had a Poppy, she might feel some type of way about it. 

But her and Nico were just friends.

Nico rounded the couch, sitting on the cushion beside Poppy, their knees knocking as he reached into her lap and took her shaking hands in his.

“Do you really think I’d stop talking to you just because someone asked me to?” Their eyes had met again, sadness brewing in the dark coffee colour surrounding his dilated pupils, and a glassy film coating her own. “Poppy, I would never.”

“I don’t know what to think, Nico, because you won’t tell me.”

“Because it doesn’t make sense! I try wrapping my head around it, try coming up with some kind of explanation, but nothing I say is going to change what I did to you, Poppy.”

Her question before had gotten her an honest response, had elicited something real and undeniable within him - he’d never stop talking to her because someone asked him to. So it was his own decision, subconscious or not. Maybe she could help dig further, she thought.

“Why did you kiss me?” She asked after a beat.

“I,” Nico pondered over it before rushing his answer, a wave of emotion flashing across his face before his eyes locked on hers, ready to let her in. “Because I wanted to.”

That was a start - a simple question, a straightforward answer. 

“Was that the first time that you wanted to?”

“No.”

Poppy could feel some semblance of confidence coming back. Closed questions, concrete answers, she could keep this up.

“When was the last time you wanted to kiss me?”

She could have asked the first - she sure as hell wanted to know it, but if he’d thought of being more the entire time they’d known each other, there was a lingering possibility there were many times - and they would be there until sunrise if they started from the beginning.

“Finnegan’s.” 

“The bar?”

“We went there when we came back after we crashed out of the playoffs, do you remember?”

She remembered.

It had only been a couple of days before Nico had left for his summer back home in Switzerland.

Their loss in Carolina had been devastating, the boys came back broken and defeated, and all just wanted to drown their sorrows before they broke for their off-season. Poppy had been out with Nia and Kelsey and a few other friends at another bar when Jack had responded to her instagram story, saying they’d be at the Irish pub that was a staple within the team, and she should come over and join them.

She had made her way over pretty late, wanting to make sure her friends were okay without her, and arrived when most of the boys were completely shit-faced, past the point of tears and moping and deep into a mass state of hysteria and loud jubilation for the successes along the way.

She had found Nico in a booth in the far corner of the bar, head slumped over the back, eyes seemingly tracing the cracks in the ceiling until she crawled into the bench behind him, leaned over with her elbows resting on either side of his head, and took up his entire view. 

“What’cha doin’?” She’d asked, lips twisting at the sight of his dizzy eyes trying to correct themselves to focus on her. 

He’d quickly given up, pressing his eyes closed to shut out the risk of nausea taking over, the outer corners crinkling, the sides of his nose scrunching and his eyelashes fanning a shadow over his cheekbones - her own eyes were level with his lips, so he couldn’t really hide the way they curved at the quick glimpse of her.

“Suffering,” he had muttered, squinting one eye open to catch a brief, upside down glance of her. Nico was never this down after a few drinks. He was giggly, he was loud, he was touchy and clumsy - he was never the hide away in the corner sad type. “Wanna join me?”

“Always.” She affirmed, making her way around to his side of the booth and sliding in beside him until her bare thigh pressed against the somewhat scratchy linen of the pants he wore. 

“I’m probably not the best company tonight,” He remained in the same position, neck craning so the base of his head could rest atop the back of the seat, and his eyes closed - giving Poppy the perfect opportunity to properly look him over.

The few moments they’d had together, alone, over the past few weeks, he’d been pent up, stressed, overworked and on the brink of eruption, so this was the first time in a long time she’d managed to catch him without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Only, that weight wasn’t so easy to shift.

She saw it in the bags under his eyes, in the unkempt playoff beard he was yet to shave off, in the stuttered way his chest rose and fell with his attempts at deep, calming breaths. 

As she watched him, the corner of her lip tucked between her teeth in contemplation, she knew there was nothing she could say to make him feel better about this. He just had to feel it out, process it in his own way without her interference - but she wanted to be there, at least.

And as much as she wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he did the best he could, and led his team through one of their strongest seasons in recent franchise history, she wanted to provide him comfort in the quiet, too.

“I don’t mind.”

And so, with little trepidation, she placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, and rested her head next to it, glancing up to see the push of a dimple forming on his cheek as his arm stretched around her and welcomed her into his warm embrace.

“You wanted to kiss me then?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Didn’t seem like the right time, though,” he followed up with an answer to a question she hadn’t even asked, yet. “I was leaving too soon and I didn’t want you to think I’d just kissed you because I was drunk and upset.”

Her eyes moved to his lips, a question for herself whirling around in her head. Would she have wanted him to kiss her then? What would have happened in the aftermath? Where would they be now? Would she have thought that? Would she have spent her summer stewing over what it meant, and how his lips had felt against hers?

Before she had much time to think it over, Nico continued, being spurred on by such a distinct memory that he was rolling towards the answer she had been waiting for, and she wasn’t going to stop him to try and decipher her own feelings.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I went home, thinking about wanting to kiss you, or not kissing you, and what it all would mean, and I kept trying to distract myself thinking I could just figure it all out when I came back here but then I met Talia, and I felt wrong for thinking about you when I had her.”

That had made sense. Nico was always a guy that would do the right thing. If he had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t think of the prospect of something with someone else, even if that someone was Poppy, and that something was a culmination of years of pent up feelings finally coming together to form something potentially wonderful.

She didn’t quite need or want to hear the rest. Didn’t want to hear how he’d gone looking for a distraction, and found just that. 

Nico was loyal, and for him to maintain that essence of himself, he had to ignore the possibility of Poppy. Some subconscious part within him saw her as a threat to the stability he had with the perfect girl from back home, and he boxed her away to make room for what could be with Talia.

It stung, but he was right. Neither of them could change what had already happened.

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

She’d nodded after only a second, barely even thinking about it.

Jack’s words from New Years Eve rang through her, suck it up and move on.

Nico had his reasons, she had her answers. He wasn’t bored of her, wasn’t tired of her or annoyed by her. He’d been so caught up by his unspoken, untranslated feelings for her that he twisted himself into untangle-able knots that were only just starting to loosen up enough to be picked apart.

“Could you maybe say it?”

“Yeah, I could.” she had said through trembling lips, the hurt in his voice burrowing through her eardrums, lodging itself in her own throat, and dripping slowly but surely into the depths of her chest. “I will.” She had to be more sure, needing to erase any doubt she had planted within him. “I do.”

“You do?”

He still held her hands in his from when he had sat down, palms warm and slightly perspirant from his tight grip around her knuckles.

“I forgive you.”

His mouth twitched into a shaky smile, his eyes catching the soft light and twinkling with emotion, and she definitely wanted to kiss him, then.

She had wondered if this is what he felt when he’d kissed her before, this burning need. Her fingers twitched in his hold, her heart thudded in her chest, and her lips parted in anticipation, until she could finally slam the breaks on her torpedoing thoughts.

“It’s just a lot to process, and I don’t really know how I feel.”

She had wished she could take it back as soon as the words left her mouth, and Nico’s features had folded as he took them in. He broke eye contact almost immediately, head dropping to look down at their hands until he released hers back into her lap. 

“I get it.” He uttered, forcing a smile as he glanced back up at her, briefly. “I sprung this on you out of nowhere, I’m s-,”

“Please don’t apologise,” she interrupted before he could go there, knowing it would send her brain into overdrive if he let even the thought of regret fester between them, “I’m glad you did. I don’t want you to be sorry about it.”

Relief washed over the both of them in a warm, steady stream as he nodded, leaning into the back of the couch, legs spreading as an elongated sigh wracked through his torso. 

He ran a hand through his hair, and Poppy’s eyes flickered to the flex of his fingers, the strain of his wrist, the flash of protruding veins where his sleeve had pulled up with the stretch of his movements. 

His eyes closed, and she took him in just like she had that night in Finnegan’s bar.

She’d had an urge then, a desire even, to provide comfort - to share his burdens, make him forget the pain he had just endured, wash it all away with encouraging words, gentle touches. A shoulder to cry on, two ears to listen, and, albeit she didn’t entirely know it at the time, a whole heart that was his for the taking.

And take it, he did, held it all summer, bent it all sorts of ways out of shape up until New Years Eve, and it was still in his hands. Smushed, dented, squeezed to within an inch of his life, her heart was his.

It was up to her now to figure out what she wanted him to do with it. 

“I made a promise to my mom about the date, Nico, I have to go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, seemingly resigned to the fact he had maybe been a little too lost in the moment to make such a crazy demand of her. 

“And I think maybe we both need a little time to properly think about what is happening here.”

“Time?” He practically shot up, alarm in his eyes.

“We’ve barely been apart all week, Nico, I think that might be why we’re both so,” she struggled for the right word - pent up, emotional, strung out, “Intense.”

She had known she was emotional, overthinking to the point of ruin, but maybe he was too. Maybe that’s what had led to the kiss, to the outburst of sentiment. They were both in the depths of a pressure cooker of emotions, and some space might do them good to gain a little clarity.

Maybe with a little more time to think on it, to consider what he was admitting to, have a little breathing room, and act more on something concrete than a fleeting in-the-moment feeling, he might change his mind. He deserved the opportunity to do so, she wouldn’t hold it against him.

“How much time do you think you would need?”

“I’m driving up to my parent’s house on Friday, so I would have been away for most of the weekend anyway, maybe we check back in on Monday and see where our heads are at?”

“4 days,” he muttered as if he’d just counted them in his head. “I can do that.”

“Yeah?” He had nodded in response, and there was something like hope that lingered between them, sharing small smiles and gazing through glassy eyes. “You’ll be so busy you won’t even get the chance to miss me.”

She believed it to be true - Nico had his family over, would be spending the latter end of the day with them, and had 2 big home games in a row to worry about. Poppy would be the last thing on his mind.

If she had blinked in the moment, she might have missed the way his observation slipped to her lips, lingered there for a brief second, and glanced back up to flicker between her eyes again. “Not possible.”

“Poppy, have you suffered some kind of brain injury I don’t know about?” Nia’s voice rings through the speaker of the phone pressed to her ear, already supposedly-styled hair fanned out around her as she lays staring at the ceiling, willing herself to get up and go before she’s late.

No matter how much she doesn’t want to go on this date, her mother will kill her if she hears anything other than a glowing review. On time, preened to perfection, polite and sociable. 

“Maybe I hit my head in my sleep at some point,” she thinks out loud, glancing back to the sharp edges of her bedside table and wondering if she could have thudded into it in the night.

Surely she would have a scar or a bruise.

“You must have,” Nia agrees, “That’s the only logical explanation why you’d ever consider telling the guy you’ve been hung up on since you first met him that you need time to think about how you feel,”

“Ni,” Poppy groans, “I called you for advice, not a lecture.”

“If you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, and you my friend, are a dumbass.”

“In my defence-,”

“Nope!” Poppy doesn’t know what Nia is doing on the other end, but she hears something clatter as if being slammed down on a table in protest, “There is no defence, you’re an idiot.”

“I didn’t know how I felt about it, Ni,” Poppy sighs, sitting up and catching sight of herself in the mirror. She doesn’t know why so much of her time tonight has been wasted trying to look so good when she doesn’t even want to. When she’d gone to visit her parents, her mother had practically given her a full blown rundown of the guy she was meeting.

Tucker Lyon, she can’t help to instinctively roll her eyes at just his name, works in investment grade finance for one of the Big 4 - she hadn’t cared enough to ask which one. His family are property people, her mom had said, and own enough Manhattan real estate to hold some serious power. Priscilla had met his mother years ago at some luncheon in the city, and apparently the two had been in cahoots since then to set their children up.

Poppy doesn’t want to be set up with some walking red flag, biting her tongue over a plate of food too small to satisfy her hunger while he mansplains stocks and shares to her.

She wants to be in whatever bar the guys are holed up in, tucked under Nico’s arm, side practically glued to his, sipping cocktails and celebrating him like he deserves to be celebrated.

But instead, she can admit, she has been a royal idiot.

“I still don’t know, it’s all come at me full force and I don’t understand my feelings.”

“Bullshit!” Nia scoffs, “You knew you were into him the second he first flashed those dimples your way.”

She isn’t entirely wrong.

Poppy had once harboured a slight crush on him. In the very early stages of their friendship. One small enough that when she realised it was completely one-sided - and she was being delusional to ever think his cute nickname for her and his insistence on spending time only with her was anything more than his attempt to make a friend - she could swallow it down until it was barely anything.

She trained her heart not to stutter when he approached her, told her brain to shut up when he flashed her one of those perfect, all consuming smiles, and could cross her arms to restrain her hands from wanting to hold his whenever they walked side by side.

She’d become so good at suppressing her feelings, she’d forgotten she had them.

She had forgotten all the times they had hung out alone over the years, never second guessing all the looks and the touches, the times he’d let her stay over if it got too late to go home alone, and the times he’d waltz into hers like he owned the place.

She’d forgotten when she had seen him with Talia, always claiming the feeling in her gut was one of loss and reminiscence, not envy and bitterness.

She’d forgotten when the Hughes brothers had helped her move a couple months ago, and Luke had questioned the amount of Nico he was helping to scatter throughout her apartment. Pictures on her bookshelf, pictures stuck to her fridge with souvenir magnets from Swiss gift shops, a couple hoodies, Devils branded shorts and big t-shirts of his he’d come across in the boxes. 

“I didn’t realise you and Cap were so close,” Luke had picked a frame out of one of the boxes, the picture of Nico and Poppy at the Halloween party inside, and waved it in her direction as she stood with her hands on her hips, figuring out if she wanted to alphabetise or colour code the books she was displaying. 

“Huh?” Poppy tilted her head towards the tall boy, watching as he shook his curls back into place and ran a hand through them. He’d worked up a bit of a sweat lugging her boxes upstairs, and now that everything was finally moved, Jack had gone to get them food, and Poppy and Luke were getting started on unpacking the easy stuff. She looked to the picture in hand, reaching over and taking it to get a closer look. “I guess we were, I don’t really know.” She wasn't a good enough actress to properly pull off the nonchalance she was aiming for.

“You don’t know?” Luke scoffed, rifling through other pictures in the box - all framed, mostly of her and Nico, some just the two of them, some of them in groups, but always side by side. Always grinning ear to ear. “You’ve got like a shrine in here, PJ,”

“It’s not a shrine,” she had argued, “You don’t keep pictures of your friends? Sounds kind of cold, if you ask me, Moosey.”

“I keep pictures on instagram and my phone like a normal person.” He chuckled.

“Generational gap, you kids are done for when the cloud goes down, you know. Physical media is forever.”

“You sound like my mom.” Luke jibed, and true to his nature, unable to stop himself before he inadvertently crossed a line, he asked with a weird wiggle of his eyebrows, “So, you wanna keep Nico forever, huh?”

“Shut up, Luke.” If Poppy had something soft enough, she would have thrown it at his head. The photo frame in hand seemed like overkill, and she didn’t want to hurt the kid, just make him stop. She didn’t much like talking about him, what they once had, what they once were. Even if he did have the wrong impression of what they were. It was upsetting, and she didn’t want to get upset - not in front of Luke. “You can keep those in the box.”

Luke had reached out for the frame in Poppy’s grasp, had watched as she hesitated giving it back, as she looked down and took in the huge smiles on her and Nico’s faces, and as she made the decision not to put this one back. Maybe she could phase it out, wait until she took a nicer, more meaningful picture with someone else before she replaced that one.

“I’ll keep this one out. I look cute.”

"Sure." His sarcasm was not entirely appreciated.

She had heard him chuckle to himself as she stood the frame on one of the shelves, placing it between a scented candle she had no intention of ever lighting and a small faux lavender plant. Not shrine-like at all.

She’d forgotten about any suppressed feelings until Nico kissed her.

Until he opened up Pandora’s box, releasing all her pent up emotions to roam freely, creating chaos and causing havoc through every corner of her entire existence. 

For the past 3 days, she’s thought about him with everything she has done. 

On Thursday afternoon, sat alone in her office, going over emails and wondering what he would be up to with his family. Was he happy, were they having fun, did he think about her for a second?

On Friday evening, driving alone on the long winding roads to her parent’s house and listening to the commentary for the game on the radio. Making it to the house in time for the 3rd period, and seeing the team celebrate. Was he well rested, excited for his family to watch him play at home, did he look up into the staff suite at the Rock and wish she was there cheering him on?

On Saturday, retreating to her childhood bedroom after another tense family dinner, snuggling up with the dogs on her bed as she watched the game. Was he beating himself up, had he gone straight home on his own after the loss, did he have the same urge to call her as much as she wanted to call him?

Did he, on any of those nights, lay awake thinking about that kiss?

About how right it had felt? How he had exerted his subtle dominance over her with such ease, large hands encompassing her face and holding her to his lips like his life depended on it?

Did he think about where it could have gone if she hadn’t shut him down? Where they could be if he’d made a move before?

She’s been thinking about it. Non-stop thinking about it.

Thinking about that kiss, and the possibility of others - the moment in the bar, all the other potential moments he had wanted to kiss her and hadn’t. The fact that maybe her feelings had never been one sided, and she’s wasted years pushing them down for nothing.

“Do you think I made a mistake not cancelling this date?” She asks her friend in a moment of vulnerability, her mind reeling with the possibility that she has already fucked up what could be.

“No.” Nia assures her, surprisingly. She’s been calling her an idiot all night, what does she mean, ‘no’? “I think he needs to sweat a little, let him think about you out tonight with another guy, and come tomorrow, his mind will be made up.”

“You don’t think we might be overestimating how much it bothers him?”

“Don’t make me call you a dumbass again, Pop.” Poppy can hear the rolling of her best friend’s eyes through the phone. “And send me a picture of your outfit before you leave.”

Nico

Nico has never been so physically uncomfortable in his life.

For a man who plays contact sport for a living - has played it for a good chunk of his existence, and has suffered countless knocks and injuries, slept in one too many uncomfortable positions in planes, buses, trains and even hotel beds, and who’s face has had more than enough encounters with the wrong end of a pair of skates - that is saying a lot.

But every inch of him, every fibre of his entire being, feels irritated in some way.

It’s a feeling like unforeseen static shocks passing over every surface of his skin. Like little bugs crawling all over him and he can’t swat them away. Like random strands of fine hairs that can’t be seen by the naked eye but God, can he feel them. He feels them everywhere.

From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, he feels something prickling, stinging, burning. 

Itchy.

Like a scratch he can’t reach in the very middle of his back.

And it’s not like he doesn’t know what it is.

He’s felt it ever since he left Poppy’s apartment in the early hours of Thursday morning. He had hardly slept, getting maybe 3 or 4 hours in before his alarm shrilled from where it charged on his nightstand. 

He has tried to use the same coping mechanisms that get him through his bouts of homesickness - where he closes his eyes and tries to provoke a memory for each sense.

He pictures the views from one of his many hikes, endless fields of green grass, crystal clear lakes, winding footpaths and mountains that stretch as far as the eye can see. He imagines gathering around a fondue table back in his favourite restaurant, and can smell the freshly baked bread, can taste the melt-in-the-mouth flavour once it’s been dipped in oozing, melted cheese. He can feel the softness of the freshly washed sheets back in his childhood bedroom and can hear the chorused chirps of the birds outside his window in the early mornings. 

It’s a technique that has helped ground him in the past, and he had thought that maybe if he applies the same logic, it will dull the ache in his fingertips that yearn to reach for his phone and text the girl who has asked him for space.

If he thinks hard enough, he can still taste the sweet but subtle vanilla of Poppy’s lip balm. He can smell the fresh-cotton essence of her laundry detergent, can hear the melodic sounds she had hummed into his lips, can feel the softness of her skin on the pads of his fingers, can see, clear as day, the dazed expression etched into her features like she had gotten caught up in the fantasy too.

If it wasn’t so easy for him to mentally transport himself back, he wouldn’t have been able to make it 4 days without seeing her. 

He had known it would be hard, but, thankfully, he thinks he got himself enough of a fix to make it to Monday.

He’d taken all he could with just one press of his lips to hers, had taken more of Poppy than he had ever dared to take before, and his subconscious was clinging onto it for dear life, hoping with everything in him she could decide to give him more.

4 days.

He has never known time to be so cruel. For it to drag out every minute like it was an hour.

If his life had a remote control, best believe he would be jamming the hell out of the fast forward button. 4x speed, skip to the next chapter, not wanting or needing to know what happened in the in-between.

He’s always thought himself to have patience - good things come to those who wait, after all - but this had become the ultimate test.

He had tried to immerse himself in whatever was going on each day, hoping they would pass quicker, less painfully, but it had been no use.

His birthday had passed by in a dizzying blur. He’d had a late morning skate, had come home to his family waiting for him, had gone to dinner with them, caught up over Italian food in one of his favourite spots by his apartment, and had driven his parents, his sister and her boyfriend back to their hotel with the promise of dedicating some time to them before the game on Friday.

Every single thing had reminded him of her.

Being at the Rock and wondering where in the building she might be, and if she was reminded of him with the littlest things. If she was thinking about him, what she was thinking about him. Seeing his family, imagining her place at the table as they all exchanged laughter and stories over pasta and wine. Thinking about what she might contribute to the conversation, how she would get along with his sister, how they’d gang up on him and poke fun, but she’d hold his hand under the table and squeeze to let him know it was all in good humour.

In the locker room after the win against the Blackhawks, trying his best to get involved in the celebrations but just wanting to call her, to hear that she had watched, and was proud of him and the team. And even after the loss against the Canucks, he wanted to hear the same. He wanted to go straight to her place, the passenger seat of his car painfully empty as he drove himself home in complete silence. 

And he had tried his best not to get too into his head about the whole space thing.

Poppy was right, after all. Things had gotten intense.

He had been intense - marching over to her place and kissing her out of nowhere. As right as it had felt, it was stupid. It was hotheaded and impulsive and it wasn’t considerate of her feelings.

But, God, he was so caught up on her he couldn’t help himself. He should have seen in the days they had spent together prior that they needed to speak more about everything before he threw himself at her like a neanderthal. 

He’d only considered what conclusion he had reached, and as much as his conversation with the guys on the plane gave him an idea of Poppy’s mindset, some words needed to be exchanged before he planted one straight on her. The whole thing could have gone so much better if he just knew how to communicate everything with her properly.

Even before the kiss. Before New Years, before Talia, before Summer - if he knew how to speak about his developing feelings for her, this whole mess could have been avoided.

He wouldn’t be sat alone in a bar, yet again, as his friends surround him, partaking in the celebrations that are supposed to revolve around him, wallowing in self pity.

He wouldn’t be thinking about Poppy, out in some fancy restaurant somewhere else in the city, with some stick-up-his-ass loser who doesn’t deserve a second of her time, and imagining her giving him one of those earth shattering smiles - the one where her the outside of her eyes crinkle in the corners, and every time he sees it he imagines the lines settling there as she ages, and it’s always a version of the two of them, old and grey, side by side, smiling together.

He imagines her taking him back to her apartment, curling up with him on the couch Nico helped her haul up the stairs after she had found it for crazy cheap off of some sketchy ad on Facebook marketplace. He sees her slowly replacing all those pictures she has of her and Nico with pictures of her and him, phasing him out of her space like she would eventually phase him out of his life.

He thinks about her taking him to her bedroom - the one he had yet to see in her new apartment, but imagines it’s just like her old one; way too many pillows and throws, a thick, plush duvet that looks like she’s climbing into a cloud, and a beat up stuffed toy her grandmother had given her when she was young. 

He doesn’t want to wish that Poppy is currently welcoming someone into her life that doesn’t suit her, but he can’t help himself.

He hopes this guy is late - and doesn’t even apologise for it. He hopes he orders off the menu for her, or criticises her choice of wine for not pairing with her choice of food like a complete snob. He hopes he’s awful to wait-staff. He hopes he’s type of guy who writes a suggestion on the tip line of his receipt instead of leaving a minimum of 20%. He hopes he chews with his mouth open, spits when he talks and scrapes his knife along the ceramic of his plate as he cuts his food, causing that toe curling sound that makes Poppy want to scream.

He hopes he doesn’t offer her his jacket, because she always refuses to take one out. He hopes he doesn’t think to give her a piggy back, because she always wears shoes out she knows she doesn’t want to walk in, but always wants to walk home if it’s nice out. He hopes he walks on the inside of the sidewalk, leaving her to the dangers of walking roadside, and walks too quick for her to keep up with little regard for how she likes to take her time on a night and stretch the evening out. 

He even hopes he smokes. Poppy hates smokers. And if, God forbid, they kiss, he’ll have smoker’s breath, and she won’t want to do it again. 

She won’t stand in front of him, eyes glazed over, lashes fluttering, brows furrowing, lips still pouting and fingers twitching to reach back out, yearning for more.

She won’t even kiss him back.

Not like she had kissed Nico. Not like she had clutched at his shirt like she wanted to hold him close to her forever. He wouldn’t get to hear that sweet, subdued sound she had made when his tongue had swiped tentatively at hers, or feel that slight pressure of when her lips had closed around it, sucking almost at the muscle before opening back up to allow for more of a taste.

No one else can get that.

No one else will savour it like Nico has, thinking about is for days on end, replaying the moment over and over until he has perfect recall of every small detail.

It’s probably a good thing she hasn’t shared much detail about this date, Nico thinks as he swirls the ice around his empty drink, sat right at the bar away from the sectioned-off area that Timo had rented out for the party.

If he knew more about it - about the who, about the where - he probably would be in a cab by now, knowing he was crossing a line but unable to do anything about it, his will outweighing any common courtesy just as it had a few nights ago. Or he would have spent the last few days in a google deep-dive, trying to figure out the kind of man her mother would approve of. Enough to set her up, at least - he doubts Priscilla Jensen entirely approves of anyone.

Nico finally makes eye contact with the bartender, and as she starts to make her way over, he feels like a divine intervention occurs - an arm falling onto the bar top beside his, a glimmer of metal flashing into his dark eyes - the reflection bouncing from a bracelet that is welded around the base of a slender hand.

“I’ll take another of these,” he lifts his glass when the bartender arrives, gesturing to the old fashioned he’d somehow landed on over beer tonight, “And whatever she’s having, please.”

 “Vodka diet coke, please,” a voice rings out from beside him, and once the bartender busies herself with the order, she asks, “Shouldn’t I be the one getting you a drink? I heard it’s your birthday,”

“Why should either of us pay when it’s going on a tab?” He chuckles, angling his body better to face her. 

“Ooh la-la, a tab,” Nia mocks, “Now I feel like I’m a part of an elite club!”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never had your drinks put on someone else’s tab before.”

“Not the New Jersey Devils captain himself, it’s such an honour!” She raises a manicured hand and presses it to her chest, a playful smile etched into her features. 

“Did you come over here just to poke fun at me?” Nico asks, touching on the dynamic that has long been between the two of them. She mocks him, mostly all bark and no bite, he takes it on the chest, knowing she’s doing it from of her warped version of almost sibling-like love, and Poppy usually acts as the mostly-unnecessary mediator, dividing her attention between them both. 

“Of course I did,” she affirms, “You looked all mopey and miserable, how could I not?”

“How is me waiting for a drink ‘mopey’?”

“Uh, let me think,” she taps her finger to her chin, before lifting it to point at each feature she references, “The huge pout on your lips, your giant caterpillar eyebrows all slanted and frowny-,”

“Forget I asked,” he mutters, lifting his lips into a quick smile and thanking the girl behind the bar as she brings them their drinks. “Didn’t know you’d be out tonight,”

“I’ll be sure to send you an e-vite to my google calendar when I get home later.”

Nico’s throat tightens slightly at how similar Nia and Poppy are - always quick with a response, most of the time sarcastic, most of the time able to elicit a genuine laugh to rumble from the depths of his chest. “I see why you and Poppy are so close.”

“Hm,” she hums, making a show of checking her phone, “You barely made it two minutes, but it could be a new record.”

“A new record?”

“For how long you can go in conversation without mentioning her.”

“She’s your best friend, the one person we have in common, it’s normal for me to bring her up, Nia.” He reaches for his drink to take a gulp, hoping the ice might make his throat feel a little better.

He doesn’t even know why he’s denying his lack of willpower when it comes to Poppy - 2 minutes actually seems like quite the achievement when he thinks about how long he’s restrained himself from reaching out over the past 4 days. Nia approaching him like this has been the perfect excuse to think about her - to talk about her without feeling like he’s overstepping or assuming.

He could use this to his advantage.

“Is she a good kisser?”

Or not.

He chokes on his drink, thankful the liquid isn’t coming out of his nose with how much he hadn’t been expecting that question.

“She looks like she would be. I’ve always thought about it but there’s never been a right time to try it out. Maybe I should take a leaf outta your book and lay it on thick and fast when she least expects it.”

How he even thought he could gain advantage in this conversation is beyond belief. He’s out of his depth with Nia, as usual. She isn’t afraid to call him out - she never has been - and she’s the one person in the world Poppy would confide in. Of course she knows about the kiss.

“Is that what she said, I laid it on thick and fast,”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy.” She chuckles, picking up her cocktail and stepping away from him, “Thanks for the drink, Nico, try to enjoy the rest of your birthday party.”

“Wait!” He reaches out to stop her, not wanting to let a golden opportunity slip from his hands so easily. “You would have bought me a drink before, for my birthday?”

“I think you earn about 5 times my annual salary in a month, so probably not.”

“How about you answer a question for me?” He proposes, “As a gift.”

“I could,” she sighs, sitting down in the stool beside him, “But I heard you get touchy after gifts.”

He immediately regrets asking, but not enough to let her go. He’s come this far, and he has 4 days worth of questions he desperately needs answers to.

“Funny,” he gives a condescending smile, which clearly pleases her as she gives a genuine one back, lifting her spare hand to gesture for him to carry on. As if it’s that easy to narrow down all the things he wants to ask her.

One question. 

What did she say about the kiss? Did she like it? Would she do it again?

What did she say about him? About how she feels? About what she wants?

Where is she right now? What did she tell Nia about the date? About the who?

“The guy she’s out with,” he can’t even bring himself to say the D word, “Is he nice?”

The look she gives him is almost pitiful. In fact, there is no almost about it. She clearly thinks he’s pathetic, but it’s too late to retract the question now that it’s out there.

“I don’t think so.”

He doesn’t like the way his stomach turns at her answer.

He had wanted this, right? For him to be a gratuity-withholding, uncouth slob with bad breath. 

But the thought of her being out with someone that has the potential to hurt her, hurts him. His chest feels tight, his head feels muddled, and that everlasting itch returns to the tips of his fingers - the weight of his cellphone becoming that much heavier in his back pocket.

“I mean,” she carries on with a shrug and reaches for her own phone, “He was a no-show, so we’ll never actually know for sure.” She swipes at her phone until she brings up her message thread with Poppy, turning up the brightness to show Nico the picture she had asked her to send earlier. 

It’s a selfie taken in the overly tall mirror she had once made him pick up from Ikea, claiming it wouldn’t fit in her car and his was much bigger, and he doesn’t know why his first instinct is to scan the background just to confirm his earlier intuitions about her bedroom. Too many pillows, cloud-like duvet. He can’t see the stuffed toy, but he assumes it’s somewhere in there.

Poppy looks unbelievable. 

Her dress is short, like the one she had worn on New Years, fits snug around her waist and emphasises her curves in all the best ways. Her legs seem to go on for miles, adorned in knee high boots no doubt to provide some semblance of warmth. Her hair is pulled back, and she wears gold jewellery - rings, some small hoop earrings, and he’s only just able to stop his fingers reaching out to pinch at the screen because he can see the gemstone bracelet without the need to zoom in.

“Can’t be that nice if you’re standing up a girl that gorgeous, huh?” Nia asks, suggestively, leaning her chin into the palm of her spare hand as she looks up at Nico. “Some guys just don’t know how good they’ve got it.”

He figures he actually should be embarrassed about the relief that floods through him - washes over his entire demeanour, expression changing from defeated to victorious in a matter of mere seconds.

The crease that seems to have permanently formed between his brows smooths out, posture corrects itself, and his lips even almost turn up into a smile.

There’s a childish, territorial voice within him that wants to exclaim, Thank God! But he’s grateful that he’s able to mute it.

And, despite being privy to Nia’s games - despite knowing exactly what trap he is being lured into, what he’s about to fall for - he can’t help but suggest, “You should tell her to come out.” Because, despite knowing he had taken the bait, he can’t find it within himself to care. “I think I asked her one too many times to ask again.”

The one thing he had twisted himself into knots over since first hearing her utter the word date, hadn’t actually come to fruition.

There is no date. There is no uncouth slob.

There is Poppy, dressed as pretty as she is, practically waiting for someone to show her a good time. 

He can do that. He wants to do it - to be the someone that’s good to her.

“Oh, should I?” Nia asks, a knowing smirk causing her lips to twitch mischievously. She’s been playing him this whole time, and once again, he doesn’t care. “I don’t know, she seems resigned to spending the evening on her couch watching New Girl,” she sighs dramatically, clearly looking for incentive - once again, reminding him too much of the girl he longs for. “I don’t know if there’s much convincing to be done.”

“I’ll add you to the tab for the night.”

Rookie mistake, offering something up so quick.

“Is that all my efforts are worth to you, Nico, a few measly drinks?”

“What do you want?”

“I’m actually out with a client tonight,” she looks back somewhere toward the other side of the bar, Nico can’t even bring himself to follow her gaze. “Been trying to sign them to my agency for a while, and if I can fix this deal, I’m up for a promotion.”

“Nia,” he warns, not liking how long this story is becoming. Forget good things come to those who wait. He’s waited long enough. “What do you want?”

“They’re big Devils fans, I think a night with the team could really open them up to the benefits of working with me.”

“Bring them into our section.”

“And maybe some tickets, too.”

“Fine.”

Nia gives him a triumphant smile, “Great, I’ll let them know.” She salutes him as she stands back up, gathering her drink and phone between the fingers of one hand before backing away. “Nice doing business with you, Captain.”

“Aren’t you gonna text her?”

“Oh, Nico,” she jeers, using her free hand to grasp him by the chin. “Dear, sweet, naive Nico,” she gives his head a subtle shake before patting at his shoulder condescendingly, “She’s already on her way.”

If anyone asks, Nico isn’t admitting to keeping an eye on the door since Nia had made her way back over to her side of the bar, but he knows as soon as Poppy has arrived. He watches her make her way over to her friend, watches the two of them embrace and talk between themselves for a good minute. He watches and waits until her eyes meet his from across the crowded room, and it’s like everything else stops.

He’d somehow managed to immerse himself in the party spirit since he had found out she was coming, fitting back into the group, toasting along with them, engaging in conversations with his teammates, his mood vastly improved in comparison to earlier in the night - of which he’s sure Timo is relieved after his short-lived exile from Nico’s good graces — but everything fades to black when he sees her lips curve upwards from afar.

Someone is talking beside him - hopefully not to him, he thinks, he doesn’t remember being mid-discussion with anyone - but it’s just drowned out mumbling right now, and all he can do is tilt his head toward the doors that lead to the bathrooms, and wait for her to respond. When she nods and separates herself from Nia, he excuses himself from the group, edging out of their section and following her path, losing her a little in the thick crowd of people - the bar still packed from where they had played the Giants game earlier.

When he gets through the doors, he’s thankful no one else is lingering back there - no rowdy queue for the bathroom, no staff, no one but him and the girl who seems to be holding his heart like a hot potato, not knowing the best way to carry it without getting burned.

“Hi.” It’s a weak starter for a heavy conversation, but if he’s honest with himself, she’s taken his breath away.

The picture from before hadn’t done her justice. She’s a little worn into her look for the evening now, hair not so neat, skin a little shiny, lipstick faded - but this is exactly how he likes her, especially when he takes in the way her eyes gleam and her cheeks puff out with her smile.

He makes a conscious effort not to let his eyes drift directly to the smile - to her lips, which even the thought of them elicits such a vivid memory.

“Surprise!” she sings quietly, arms outstretched and hands shaking theatrically.

He steps toward her with his hands behind his back, fingers clasped together until he’s confident that his knuckles turn white, fighting the urge to curl his arm around her waist and pull her into him, needing to be closer. He watches intently as her eyes flick down to where his hands should be.

She backs into the wall behind her, not to escape his approach, but more to prepare herself for it - like she’s settling in and embracing it.

She isn’t running. She isn’t pushing.

She’s waiting.

“I’ve missed you.” Nico wastes no time in telling her the truth - telling her what she’s refused to believe every other time he’s said it, but he can tell with the tilting of her head and the rounding of her eyes that understanding has settled within her. She has no comeback, no it’s only been a few days, and he thinks she must have felt the drag of them in the same way.

“I’ve missed you, too.” 

Whatever anxiety has rooted itself deep inside him for the past 4 days dissipates almost immediately. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He admits, without shame or reluctance. After Poppy had helped him overcome whatever had been censoring him before, there is no point now in holding back or beating around the bush. “You look so good, Mohn.”

A rush of confidence allows for him to close the gap, standing right before her as she leans against the wall, neck craning ever so slightly to look up at him. He still won’t touch, hands laying against the stone at either side of her hips, not daring yet to let even a sliver of his finger graze at her flesh.

“You look good, too.” She breathes, eyes glancing down to do an appreciative once over of his outfit, and he doesn’t miss the glint of pride cross through her eyes when she catches the glimpse of the gold that peaks out from the neck of his sweatshirt. 

“I’m sorry about your date.”

“Are you?” Her lips twist into a knowing smile. It’s an example of one of her many traits that he loves - she can detect his bullshit a mile off.

“Mmhm,” he nods, “I’m sorry a world exists where any man is stupid enough to stand you up, Poppy.”

“I’m the stupid one,” she argues, and he misses her gaze as soon as she takes it away, eyes darting to the floor in embarrassment. “I should have listened to you and cancelled in the first place.”

“I was stupid to ask that.”

“Maybe we’re both stupid.”

“Definitely.” He probably shouldn’t be agreeing to her calling herself stupid, but it comes out before he can think too much on it. They’ve both wasted too much time. 

“Did you have a good birthday?” She asks, and a slight movement between them catches his eye, her fingers twisting together as if she’s withholding her touch, too.

“It’s better now.” He smiles fondly as she rolls her eyes. 

“How are your family?”

“They’re good.” He doesn’t want to go into too much detail about how shamefully miserable he has been over the past few days - doesn’t want to tell her how his mom had called him out on his lack of contribution to conversations, and he’d managed to pin it on the stress of the season. She still raises a brow at his insufficient answer, and he expands before she can tell him off. “Everyone but Luca made it out, my sister had to go back already for work, but my parents booked a trip to Halifax to visit the Phillips’, I lived with them when I played up there, they have a few friends to visit in Canada but they’ll drop back to see me again before they fly home.”

He feels the tickle of soft fingertips at the inside of his arm, slowly grazing down as he speaks, and as he watches Poppy, he thinks she must not realise she’s doing it - letting intuition take over as she’s distracted by the conversation. He lets her take the lead on initiating any touching, and it takes all the restraint he has left not to barge through the door she’s attempting to slowly eke open. She’s the only person in the world who could make him audibly hear the metaphorical creaking.

“Did they get to watch you win?”

He doesn’t even know why he finds himself grinning at the question, but the tone in which she asks it bears a hint of pride. She had watched the game on Friday.

“My dad was pretty much in the stands in full gear, everything but the pads and skates, and my mom was repping Foundation merch, she’s run off across the border with my beanie.” He likes the way her face lights up.

“I’ll get you another.” She raises her other hand to card her fingers through his hair, and, for once, he’s thankful not to be wearing any sort of hat. The soft scratch of her nails is soothing, and he just about manages to stop himself leaning into her touch and purring like a cat.

That would be embarrassing.

He feels outnumbered, both of her hands on him, and it feels unfair not to be touching her - so when his thumb extends itself on the wall just beside her hip and strokes at the soft fabric of her dress until it’s softly digging in, he watches intently for any hesitation before he lays a palm flat against her side.

It feels like things are progressing both torturously slow and overwhelmingly fast at the same time. His heart feels like it’s slamming into either side of his ribcage, and like nothing else occupies his chest, the sound of it echoing as if banging on the walls of a deep, empty cavern.

“Did I already tell you how much I missed you?” He honestly can’t remember, but he’ll tell her again if he needs to.

The hand that had run through his hair rests now on the side of his head, her thumb swiping softly at his cheek as she cups the side of his face, and before he can even make sense of what is happening, he’s being pulled forward. 

He bends to her advances with quick reflexes to avoid clashing, and their noses bump just before their lips meet.

Her chest rolls forward until it presses into his, and both his hands grab at her sides to pull her flush against him, legs tangling, hips pushing together, bodies touching everywhere possible all the way up to their mouths. 

He gives her all the control otherwise, allows her to determine the pace, responding to her every move and every touch with fervour and heat. She pulls at him, one hand grasping at his sweatshirt and the other cradling the side of his neck, and he quickly lifts one to stifle the blow to her head as she collides back with the wall, barely noticing the pain where his knuckles meet the stone.

Their tongues press together at the same time, and Nico doesn’t even realise his lack of patience got the better of him until their battle for dominance kicks off between their lips.

He can taste the same vanilla lip balm, can smell her signature coconut scent, can hear soft, subtle moans, can only see the back of his eyelids, not daring to open them, just wanting to feel. And he can feel everything. 

He feels the softness of her hair beneath the hand that is protecting her head from the discomfort of resting against the hard surface behind her, can feel the skirt of her dress bunching up in his grip, can feel her touch, fingertips dancing at the the base of his skull, thumb pressing into his jaw, her other hand making that same grabby gesture at the thick fabric covering his torso, squished between his heart and her chest, and he thinks he can feel the thump of her own heart on the other side.

He can feel her thigh pressed between his, the friction causing a heat to build deep in the pit of his stomach, swirling and whirling down, down, down until it culminates into the hard press of his hips into hers, and a rushed gasp combined with a guttural groan causes their lips to part.

They take deep breaths in unison, their chests bumping with every inhale, and he tries otherwise not to move.

He opens his eyes to find hers still closed, scrunched shut, even, and he tries not to be selfish - ignores the need to get a good look at her, to have this version of her ingrained to his memory too - and attempts to coax her back to him.

“Poppy,” he sounds just about as breathless as he feels. “Are you good?”

She hums in response, a subtle nod given, but he needs to hear her say it, and he tells her as much with a quick squeeze to her hip. Her eyes flutter open, gleaming and bright, framed by thick lashes and crinkling slightly at the outer corners as her lips turn up into a mischievous grin. “Better now.”

His chest feels like it’s about to burst open, like there’s a bear within him that is going to break out and pull her into its clutches, dragging her back safe to her home in his heart.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, because he has to - he doesn’t care if it’s rude to leave his own birthday party, doesn’t care that he’s been the most ungrateful person in the world all night.

He’ll make it up to Timo, get him something big the next birthday of his that rolls around. Throw him a party. Or he’ll take care of the tab the next time they’re out. Maybe even let him have the window seat the next time they’re on the same plane home. 

Except, he won’t be doing any of that. He’ll be taking the reins on booking flights and putting Timo straight into economy, smack-bang in the middle of a row surrounded by a family of 5, screaming kids, arguing parents, the back of his seat being kicked the whole 8 hours to Zurich.

Because, just as Poppy’s swollen lips part to accept his advances - as her chin lifts, about to drop with a big affirmative nod, and he’s about to get everything he’s wanted the past 4 days and beyond - the doors to the back swing open, and his 6 foot teammate stumbles through, arms outstretched as he notices the two of them practically intertwined.

“Here you are!” He exclaims, voice booming in comparison to the soft breathy tones he and Poppy had been previously speaking in. “Poppy, you made it!”

“Hi Timo,” Nico feels her retreat, feels her legs brush past his and back to her own space, her hand on his chest now the only part of her that touches him, and he follows her lead, taking his hands back and trying not to clench his jaw or his fists as she converses with the man who was once his friend. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright, should be back on the ice in a couple weeks.” Timo had suffered an injury in one of their games at the back end of December, and hasn’t been fit to travel, and Nico finds an unspeakably bitter part of himself wishing it was something to do with Timo’s legs that were injured so he couldn’t have interrupted their moment. “Glad you’re here, this one has been miserable all night.”

He can’t be this oblivious, Nico thinks. Why is he still here? Why isn’t he retreating back to the bar and leaving the two of them to whatever he had clearly barged in on.

And when Nico looks back to his teammate, his long time friend, he sees the oh-so-evident glint of mischief and disobedience in his grey-blue eyes.

He is getting his own back.

Nico knows he was petulant to blame Timo for Poppy not being invited, knows there was nothing he could have done to change her going out on a date, or them not speaking for months while he was with Talia.

He doesn’t need him to enact his revenge to see he was wrong to ignore his texts, or to mope around at the party he had put so much effort into. 

He tries to give him a pleading look to stop whatever he is trying to do, but it’s no use.

“The guys will want to see you, Poppy, Jack’s beating himself up about his shoulder, could use a friendly face.”

“Oh,” Poppy casts a glance back to Nico, and he gives her a nod, implying that she go see to her friend. “I’ll go find him.” 

He can wait. He’s waited 4 days. He’s waited years, in fact.

And, after that kiss, he knows he won’t have to wait much longer. 

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Nico mutters in their shared native language once he’s watched Poppy disappear through the doors to the bar, with a quick glance back and an apologetic smile before they closed. 

“Just saving my brooding captain from being arrested for public indecency,” Timo shrugs with a shit-eating grin as he passes Nico and heads toward the bathrooms further down the hall. “You’re welcome!” He calls back in English, raising his hands and giving a patronising thumbs up.

Nico runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face and wishing it was Poppy’s in its place.

It’s just an hour, maybe two, in the presence of his friends. Drinks, music, everyone in a good mood for the most part. It’s hardly like he’s walking out into a press conference after a 5 game losing streak and about to have all the blame placed upon his shoulders. 

It’s a party. 

Poppy’s here.

He can do this.

He can wait.

Next Chapter

taglist: @alwaysclassyeagle @bunbunbl0gs @idgaf-if-youre-here @youflowerr-youfeast @thearchersstuff @bellsdi0r @wonderheartz @jjgsunflower @butterflies35 @kenziepickle @josierosie @laheyxlover @mrsmattytkachuk (sorry if your tag hasn't worked btw or if I forgot you I'm a muppet tbh)

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 5

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, slight slut-shaming, brief mention of death, minors do not interact

word count: 2.3k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

featuring the isa song “sometimes you lose your soulmates”

Present Day 

Though you didn’t exactly enjoy Mondays, it was at least the one day of the week when you got to wake up naturally instead of at the crack of dawn. Your first class isn't until noon, so when you wake up at 9:30 in the morning, you decide to get your day started early. 

You weren’t always the type of person to completely do themselves up just to go to class. Maybe in freshman year for the first few weeks, but you were a seasoned vet now. Most of the time, some leggings and a simple shirt or sweater sufficed. But after such a shitty weekend, you figure you could at least make yourself feel good by looking good. 

After half an hour of getting ready, you look yourself over in the bathroom mirror. You smile, fairly satisfied with your appearance. Despite the cold breezes of Saturday night, the forecast called for a rare warm day. As a result, you allowed yourself a floral sundress, decorated with a puffy knitted, button-up jacket on top of it in case the season’s true weather decided to show. A pair of simple white sneakers finished your outfit; not the most stylish, but practically, you still had to walk around campus. 

Your lips shine from the bit of lip gloss you’d applied. You’d only applied some light mascara on today (you figured that your Literature and Sexuality class did not warrant your bold, false eyelashes). You’d lightly painted your eyes with colours that complemented those of your sundress, blending them seamlessly onto your eyelids. As you did this, that one memory that was prodding you two days ago became clearer. 

“I have no idea how you do that so naturally, dude.” Ellie’d said, watching you in awe from the foot of your bed. 

Her ocean green eyes watched the meticulous strokes of your makeup brush applying eyeshadow to your lids. It was early on in your “friendship” and it was still a couple more weeks of her calling you “dude” before you became “babe” and “baby.” 

“It’s not that hard, honestly. Just takes some practice.” You’d said, trying to keep your hand steady as you grew nervous under Ellie’s watchful gaze. 

“Nah, it’s natural talent. You’re an artist.” She’d replied. 

You’d scoffed, saying, “Ellie, all I’m doing is my makeup. You’re the actual artist, remember?” 

“No,” She’d shaken her head. “I just draw. You’re the artist here.” She’d said decidedly, eyes full of admiration as she continued to stare. 

You’d blushed furiously then, and you would continuously do so when you’d replay that memory the months following after. 

But it was two years later and now, the memory instead has you staring at your reflection tight-lipped and frowning. 

Why is she still everywhere? 

It was roughly a fifteen to twenty-minute walk from your apartment to the university. You lived in an off-campus apartment complex that was in a decent location from both the school and a downtown area nearby. It was less convenient than living on campus like several of your friends still did, and this certainly wasn’t what you’d had in mind when you were planning out your social college experience. But after the freshman year events of Rafael’s death and Ellie’s abandonment, you were far more comfortable where you were. 

You liked walking anyway. You found solace in the strolls you took, accompanied only by your thoughts and headphones. 

About five minutes into your trek to campus, you pull out your phone to text your friend Tara. 

A couple of minutes later, you were just officially entering the campus when Tara texts you back. 

You continue walking as you frown down at your phone. Dina had spent most of the previous day at your place, cheering you up and taking your mind off Ellie. Your group chat with your other friends was blowing up and by the end of the night when Dina had left, you were overwhelmed by the amount of unread texts you had. The group chat remained unopened until right now. 

The chat consisted of your friends Tara, Sidney, Astrid, Rebecca, Kristen, and Mina. You’d met them all in freshman year. Tara was your assigned roommate and Astrid was Dina’s. They were all initially casual friends, ones that you saw on a usual basis and got along well with, but they weren’t necessarily very close. You were better friends with the gang from Jackson. But after you came back to campus for sophomore year, you detached yourself slightly from Dina and Jesse, knowing full well that Ellie had them first. They both tried to remain closer to you; but they remained inseparable from their childhood best friend, not fully knowing what events led to what “broke up” you two. It wasn’t the same and it was a much different dynamic with this other friend group, but the girls were there for you all the same. 

Reluctantly, you click on the group chat named “Wilson Crew ❤️‍🔥” (Wilson Valley had been the name of the freshman dorm building most of you had resided in the first year). Scrolling up to where you’d left off, you scan the messages your friends had left the previous day. Your eyes grow wider and wider the more you read. 

The previous day, Tara, who worked at a campus coffee shop called Ruston Coffee, was tasked to train a new girl. To her, your other friends’, and now your shock, the new girl Tara was training was Freshman Girl. The same Freshman Girl who stayed glued to Ellie’s side for most of Saturday night. The same Freshman Girl who drooled over Ellie’s every word and move. The same Freshman Girl that mistook your Ellie’s signature lavender-laced joints as lilac. The same Freshman Girl who wore Ellie’s old motorcycle jacket the entire night. 

It turned out Freshman Girl did have a name: Daniela. Your friends had sent messages with different levels of shock and horror. Kristen called her a whore, to which Sidney agreed, to which Astrid reprimanded and told them both to be nice. Mina sent memes as a response. Tara also texted that Daniela would be working with her again today. 

You look up. Ruston Coffee is just down the way. You don't have to go in. You can skip coffee for today and hide out in the library instead. 

“I’m not expecting you and Ellie to magically make up. I won’t try to get into the middle of it because I know that’s between you two. But you definitely need to figure out this out, babe. This doesn’t seem like something that should remain unresolved.” Dina’d said.

“But don’t also let it affect all the other parts of your life, okay?" She continued. "She shouldn’t be stopping you from hanging out with me and Jess more often or going out to parties we’re at or anything that involves Ellie in some way. Don’t let her stop you from enjoying your life.” 

And Ellie certainly shouldn’t stop you from getting coffee. If you want to get a coffee and relax before class, Ellie should not be getting in the way of that. 

You take a deep breath and march towards the coffee shop, fingers gripping tightly onto the straps of your backpack and feet stomping in rhythm to good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo blasting loudly through your headphones. 

A bell above the door tinkles as you enter Ruston Coffee. The shop was a little busy, most seats taken up by other students sitting with their laptops or biding time before class. There's a line of people by the register and you begin approaching it until you hear your name being called. 

Your friend Tara waves you over by the counter where orders are usually dropped off. In one of her hands is a straw and your ready-made mocha frappe. 

“You’re the literal best, Tara.” You sigh, pulling your headphones off and walking up to her. 

She hands you your coffee order. 

“No problem.” She says, smiling. “You know that I don’t mind.”

“Thank you for indulging in my caffeine addiction,” You say, whipping out your phone and sending her $6. 

Tara frowns and says, “You better not have given me a $3 tip this time.” 

You sip from your straw. 

“Dude!” Tara reprimands, laughing. 

“$2 tip!” You say, defensively. 

“Just for a $4 coffee.” She chides, shaking her head. 

You shrug. 

“So uh,” Tara begins, her voice lowered slightly. “Did you see what I said in the group chat yesterday? Cause you weren’t responding.” 

You gulp. 

“Uhh. Yeah, I did, just now. Sorry, Dina was at my place yesterday, so I was busy—” 

“Nah nah, it’s cool, man. But like. You saw what I said about that girl, right?” 

“Is she here?” You ask, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“Not yet. But—” Tara checks her watch. “—she’s supposed to be here in less than five minutes or so.” 

Fuck. 

“Oh, okay.” You gulp, your heart rate increasing. 

“Are you okay, dude?” Tara asks. 

“No, yeah, I’m fine.” You lie. “How did training her yesterday go?” 

Tara crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. 

“Literally the worst. She kept on looking at her phone instead of listening, she left one AirPod in her ear the whole time, she kept asking when we were gonna be done. And now I have to go through it all again once she gets here.” 

You give Tara a sympathetic look. 

“I hate that,” You say, sucking on your teeth. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, not hire her?” 

“We’re short-staffed as fuck, so we don’t have much of a choice.” Tara sigh. 

One of Tara’s co-workers comes up behind her and attempts to elbow her ribs which she dodges easily. 

“Get back to work, Maclay.” He says, putting down two cups of coffee next to her before heading back towards the register. 

“Fuck off, Khanh!” She replies, shooting a middle finger to his back. 

“Should I let you get back to work?” You ask. 

“Nah,” Tara reassures. “I wanna shit talk this Daniela girl first before I have to deal with her this morning.” 

“Do you know how often she’s gonna be working with you?” You inquire. 

“I’m not sure yet, but if Bonnie thinks she’s gonna stick me with a lazy new girl this early in the year—” 

You hear the bell above the door tinkle as someone enters the coffee shop. Both you and Tara look instinctively at the new arrival. Tara groans silently and your throat goes dry. 

Freshman Girl Daniela walks in. Wearing Ellie’s jacket once again. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Crap, I gotta go now, I guess.” Tara whines begrudgingly. 

“Y-yeah…” You say, unable to take your eyes off of that same jacket that used to often adorn your shoulders back in your freshman year. You hate that it looked good on Daniela. 

“I’ll see you later, dude.” Tara says, wrenching her elbows off the counter and walking towards the register. 

“Good luck.” You reply. 

You aren't exactly subtle with your stare, but thankfully Daniela doesn't seem to notice. It's a little different seeing her now in the daytime. She was very pretty, you have to admit to yourself. She has a short, pixie cut that complements her sharp bone structure. She's wearing a bright yellow tank top below Ellie’s jacket that clings to her lean figure, making her stand out slightly. The light makeup she has on looks so simple and natural. 

Daniela wasn’t Ellie’s first conquest since you ended things with her. She didn’t waste much time dating around after you all came back for your sophomore year. You’d avoided her as much as possible so you wouldn't have to come face-to-face with the girls she’d get involved with. You still heard about them, of course, and you were sure there were even more than the ones you’d known about. 

But Daniela was the first you were forced to encounter. You weren’t prepared to be thrust right into Ellie’s love life once more. But here you are, staring at the most recent fling of the girl who you were once so desperately in love with. 

As Daniela lazily makes her way through the shop towards the back, you eventually tear your eyes off her and head straight for the exit. 

♫ Maybe she’ll come through / If he waits some more 

But she doesn’t / No, she doesn’t ♫ 

You're leaning against one of the trees in the quad, backpack laid next to you and headphones back on your ears. Your next class is in the building right behind you, but you still have a while until it started. 

♫ It’s not like the movies / Like you dream it’ll be 

Sometimes you lose your soulmates / And sometimes they leave ♫

Your journal and pen are laid out on your lap but abandoned as your fingers pick at the grass around you. Your mostly empty coffee cup sits next to you, condensation dripping into the soil. Your eyes are completely glazed over, watching the clouds in the sky. 

♫ She’s not a girl you forget / She’ll run through your head 

With all of the moments / You loved but now dread 

To remember / Burning like—♫ 

Your hands and voice react quicker than your mind does. Your sudden movements cause your headphones to fall onto your neck. After a second, you realize that you had shrieked and that your hands had flown up to your face to catch something. As you bring the object down to look at it, you realize it was a football. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” 

You look up to see a tall girl in a dark t-shirt and grey sweatpants jogging towards you, a dirty blonde braid bouncing behind her. 

“Abby?”

author's notes:

sorry for the delay in uploading this! i'm back from my brief vacation, and after i settled in after getting home, i almost immediately plopped down in front of my laptop to finalize this ldksfjsdlkds

not very chockful of ellie in this chapter, i know, i'm sorry! y'all got plenty last chapter! but don't worry, more will be coming up soon. i just enjoy keeping y'all in suspense.

i just wanna mention that most (if not all) of the names that i use in this fic are picked out people in the games themselves. also tara's last name is maclay as an homage to my lesbian queen tara maclay from buffy the vampire slayer. she's not the same character obvi, but i just enjoy putting in the reference :)

freshman girl aka daniela may have been named after and based on some whore girl that my ex left me for and that i'm still bitter about it oops

i hope y'all enjoyed the surprise guest appearance at the end of this chapter! she will be integrated further into the story from this point on, so stayed tuned :)

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @chrissyfishywissy, @yevheniiaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnoviecita, @oatmilkchaii, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky