#i want to tell you about my day. about going back to school. about my friend's wedding

[classyrbf]

STILL IN LOVE! #12 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…only to realize it’s much more complicated than you led on

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce, mentions of jail, blood, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

series masterlist

As soon as you stepped back inside the house you immediately made your way over to the bedroom to grab your phone. Your head was still spinning from what just happened. Your heart was pounding so fast you could hear it in your ears. The thought of Toji going to jail made you anxious, scared. You two finally started off on the right foot, making little progress each day and you didn’t want to tell the kids that their father was in jail. Hell, you didn’t even know how long he’d be in jail for this kind of shit. You didn’t have the money to bail him out, whatever the cost may be. But you had an idea of who might.

Quickly, you called Gojo. The phone rang while you chewed on your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down nervously while you waited. “Hello?” It was like a weight lifted off of your shoulders upon hearing his voice.

“Gojo, thank god you fucking answered,” you sighed.

“Y/n? Oh no…what’d he do this time? Better be worth you waking me up for,” he yawned.

You let out a soft chuckle before explaining, “he’s in jail, or is gonna end up in jail—”

“Hold up, what?” Gojo jumped up, brows furrowing at your words.

“To make a long story short, my ex boyfriend came over this morning while toji was here, he said some shit toji didn’t like and toji beat the shit outta him. Cops were called and they dragged both of them away and said toji will most likely go to jail,” you explained, biting the inside of your cheek.

“And I’m guessing you need me to bail him out? Yeah?”

“Yes…Gojo, please. Me and Toji…we were doing good and the kids and it’s just—”

“Listen, call Shoko to pick the kids up after school and I’ll be over in a little bit,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Toji sat in the chair, hands laying flat on the desk as he waited in the dingy questioning room. He felt like some big time criminal, considering what happened. He was annoyed, having to go through this whole process over a simple fight. “People are pussies,” he muttered to himself. Nanami should’ve kept his mouth shut, especially about the kids. He should’ve left when you asked him to and instead he kept on going.

All Toji could think about was you, wondering if you were disappointed in him, upset or even at your breaking point with him. He promised he wouldn’t mess up his chance, and yet here is sitting in a police station with the high probability of being put behind bars. He impatiently tapped his foot on the ground, the buzzing sound of the overhead fluorescent lights making his head pound. The slight cut on lip still stung everytime he licked his lips, a faint taste of blood on his tongue.

A knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts, a police officer walking in and flashing a quick, fake smile at Toji. “Alright, Mr…Fushiguro.” The man took a seat across from Toji and it couldn’t help but make his eye twitch.

“When can I leave?” Were the first words that came out of his mouth. “I need to see my wife and kids.”

The officer chuckled, shaking his head. “Not until we get your side of the story. We already questioned Mr. Nanami, and we got your wife’s—ex wife’s side as well, so you’re next. Mind telling me what happened from beginning to end?” The officer clicked the blue pen his had in his hand, flipping the next page in his notepad.

“I woke up, made breakfast for my wife and shortly after she woke up as well. We talked for a little, didn’t even get to sit down and eat before the doorbell rang. She answered it and I looked over to see it was her ex boyfriend at the door,” he mumbles, not once shifting his gaze.

“You say she’s your wife and you say Mr. Nanami is he ex boyfriend. But he says that you two are divorced,” the officer adds.

“We are but we plan on working things out, so she’s my wife.” The officer nods are Toji’s words, scribbling it down on the white paper. “I walk over to the door and stand behind her, and they’re having a conversation about their relationship. She told they broke up—he broke up with her because of me and our relationship. Fair enough. She respected it and realized that maybe me and her should work stuff out because of our kids—”

“So why exactly did he show up?” The officer cocks his head to the side.

“To apologize and get her back. Why else would he be there? She didn’t want to and that’s when shit hit the fan.” Toji shrugged.

“By ‘shit hit the fan’ you mean when started saying nasty comments? Your wife said he began belittling her, talking about your kids and your relationship? Am I correct?” His brows raise, the tip of the pen to his paper.

“She asked him to leave, and he wouldn’t. He was saying stuff about how are relationship wouldn’t last and how I only wanted to keep her around for…sex. Then he brought up my kids, and that’s when I knocked his ass to floor. Sound bout right?” Toji blinked, completely uninterested.

“You say she asked him to leave and he wouldn’t?” The officer glances up at him for a quick second.

“Yeah,” toji responds.

“Just one more question, you don’t live there right?” The officer folded his hands in front of him.

Toji hesitated to answer. He knew if he said no, they’d probably charge him, but he said yeah, he’d be lying but he probably won’t get charged due to fact Nanami was most likely trespassing. “I do. Been living there for about a month.”

“Alright, that’s all I needed to know. Be back in few.” The chair screeched against the floor as the officer stood and walked out the room.

With a roll of Toji’s eyes he let out a scoff. “Fucking pigs.”

You paced back and forth in the living room, nervously biting at your nails, anticipating the moment Gojo knocked on the door. You couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like the universe had placed some kind of curse on you. Was it so hard to have one good day? Apparently so. The sound of knocking pulled you from your thoughts, wasting no time to unlock the door where you were met with Gojo himself, in sweatpants, a hoodie, and his hair disheveled. It was weird not seeing him dress up for once.

“Gojo.” You quickly hugged him.

“Hey, hey.” He hugged back, stepping into your house. “So, what the fuck happened? Did he seriously get arrested?” He shook his head in confusion.

You let out a deep sigh, just the thought of talking about it made you feel tired, annoyed, upset. You weren’t sure what you were. “Yes? I mean, they dragged both of them away, but Toji hit first.” You plopped down on the couch, holding your head in your hands. “He’s most likely going to jail.”

“He is going to jail,” Gojo corrected. “If they find out he doesn’t live here, and that he swung first…jail time!” Gojo sat beside you. “Depends on how much your ex boyfriend is willing to tell.” He glanced at you.

You groaned in annoyance, falling back onto the plush cushions. “Okay, but he was talking about our kids and saying all shit to me and—”

“You think cops give a shit? All they care about is sending whoever to jail. Toji or whatever his name is. And knowing Toji’s record with the police, he’s not making it out of this one.” Gojo reached into his pocket pulling out a piece of candy. “Want some?”

You glared at him, blinking. Was he serious? “Did you seriously bring candy?” You asked, looking at the piece of taffy he held between his fingers.

“Yeah, I had a whole bag of ‘em. Anyway, you want it?” He held it out to you.

“Gojo, can we please focus right now? What if he gets let off without a warning? That’s good right?” Someway somehow you’re hoping that’s the best possible outcome in this situation.

“Well, then excellent. Wait, did he like bash his face in? Or how bad are we talking?” Gojo narrowed his eyes.

“Gojo, I don’t know! For fucks sake!” You rose to your feet, stress levels rising higher. “How do we even know he’s in jail? He’s probably locked up as we speak!” You were panicking and you weren’t exactly why. Gojo said he’d bail him out for you, so coming up with money wasn’t a problem. It’s the fact that you felt like this was entirely your fault. Your relationship with Kento and your relationship with Toji, everything came crashing down. As a grown woman with two kids, you’d think you’d know better and know how to confront your own feelings without getting others involved but apparently that was impossible for you.

Though, it’s not like you expect Kento to show up on your doorstep this morning wanting to take you back. You felt horrible. He was a good man, sweet and kind, and you, you were still stuck on your ex husband and clearly that hurt him. You were sorry for that, you take responsibility that. But that gave him no excuse to bring your kids into this. Everything about this was so fucked up. Even more than before.

“Listen, relax. They’ll allow him some phone calls if they do lock him up. He will most likely call you, and you’ll spill the great news to him! No problem!” Gojo shrugged it off, reaching into his pocket to pull out another piece of taffy.

“It’s been like three hours already.” You huff.

“Then he’s probably locked up,” he casually said, popping the candy into his mouth.

“Can you take this seriously for one second?” You you take a deep breath, finding the inner strength not to yell and cuss Gojo out just because you were extremely overwhelmed.

“I am! Listen, you know he’s been in jail before! He’s fine!” Gojo swatted his hand, brushing off the situation like it was so casual.

“Yeah, with you! When you two got into that stupid ass bar fight and Shoko and Geto called me at three in the fucking morning!” Your nostrils flared, rolling your eyes at the man in front of you.

“No need to dwell on the past—wait, is that—”

“What?” You looked at Gojo, eyes wide.

“Is that your phone?” He stands up.

You run towards your bedroom, nearly tripping over your own feet as the sound of your phone ringing grew louder. “Fuck where is it?” Your eyes scanned over your dresser and nightstand before you standing tearing your blankets off of the bed. Your phone flew to the floor and you quickly grabbed it, seeing it was an unsaved number. Fuck.

“Hello? Toji?” Your voice shook as you spoke. You could hear slight breathing on the other end.

“Baby…”

tag list (closed):

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[insidiouscha0s]

matching cars is how my dad made a few friends when i was a kid - there were 2 Sunshine Yellow Jeep Cherokees in our area, and we were constantly parking at the same Walmart - one of the other guys friends left a note on my dads jeep, my dad passed it on next time he saw the other car, and the other guy had a brother and another friend with jeeps so they all started hanging out 🤣 with three guys in the same shade of yellow too, the other in red.

That crew was really awesome to us, actually - we had to move in kind of a hurry when I was about 12/13 (our landlord wanted to move back into the house we were living in so he decided we had to move within three months my parents basically acquired a new place in what felt like two weeks and in the course of a weekend we packed up our rooms and moved to the new place) and those guys all came over with their trucks and helped us pack a whole house up in the course of about a day? maybe two? they got paid in pizza and it was really great to have the feeling that we weren’t alone in that moment.

My dad still talks to them actually, one of the guys still lives somewhat close and invites the whole family to his kids birthdays - they’re still really little so it’s still mostly a chance to hang out and chill in their backyard.

Actually, I invited that guy and his wife & kids to my wedding this past year and they came, so that tells you how close we all still are! I love having family friends that are that “older cousin” age rather than “dad” age!

Also, for those curious - yes, there is a huge age gap in this friendship. When they met, it was around 2001/2002 and my dad was 34. These guys were 17-19, still in high school. “Hanging out” in the evenings was mostly getting a soda and snacks and hanging out at the convenience store until they closed, or working on their cars, or going off roading together. My dad knew their parents, kept in touch when one of the guys went to college and one joined the military, and one is currently off somewhere just living van life iirc. It’s great.

I was leaving class today and I walked up to my little red car and hit the unlock button on my key. I confidently stepped up to open the door but it would open. Slowly I registered that my car didn’t light up or unlock. I was tired and befuddled and thought, oh, I didn’t hit the button right. So I clicked the unlock button again. No unlock sound, no lights.

The rain is dumping down on me, uncharacteristically hard for my region, and my last two brain cells are trying to problem solve the fact that my door won’t open while I’m getting rained on. I looked at my key for several seconds and then thought oh yea, I can actually insert this into the lock! And I look back up and think, wait, it’s really dark in my car?

Turns out.

An IDENTICAL car was parked directly next to mine. This car, however, had tinted windows, a fact it took me an embarrassingly long time to ascertain and I stepped back suddenly thinking oh no oh no someone will think I’m doing crime but I just thought it was my car.

I hurried around it to my door (which was definitely unlocked as I’d been mashing on the button). One of my classmates saw me and I wailed, “It’s the same kind of car as mine!” She laughed.

I can never emotionally recover from the embarrassment.

[axolotl4days]

Batman Dead Daughter AU part 2

I'm so sorry this took so long, I ment to post this like the day after the first one but I kept getting distracted and didn't have time to write it TwT

Anyways-

We are starting off with Damian after patrol and approaching Bruce

I also realized how my writing is a lot closer to script in the last one, especially with the dialog, and it's something I'll work on

Without further a due: Angst :D

Damian POV:

'This is really unordinary, first a new student in the middle of the year, who looks... similar to Father, but now she's hiding under a bridge? What is going on with that girl. Somethings not right, it's clear there's something she's not telling me, I should be angry, she could be some sort of threat. So why am i not? This isn't anger its.. something else. What even is this feeling? I feel like I know her. One things for certain, she needs help. Maybe I should speak to Father about this. He does have a habit of adopting children.' Damian thinks to himself as he removes his vigilante gear, he decides to approach Bruce and bring up his concerns

"Father." Damian says, commanding his attention away from the computer

"Damian. Is something wrong?" Bruce asks

"I'm not sure, it's about my new friend" Damian says

"Ah yes.... y/n correct?" Bruce asks but his voice waivers as he says her name

"Correct, father. I believe y/n may be in trouble of some kind. As you know she joined the school at an odd time, which is weird enough as it is. However, during patrol, I found her under a bridge. She claimed that she couldn't go home but wouldn't say why. And to make matters even more confusing, she didn't seem to know who I was." Damian explains

"What do you mean? Like she didn't know what a vigilante was? It's possible if she's new to Gotham, unlikely but possible." Bruce says

"No, she wasn't suprised, or confused, she acted as if meeting a vigilante were normal, but she didn't know my name, she seemed to know about vigilantes, but didn't know which one I was." He explained while gesturing to the cases of costumes throughout the years. "She also didn't have anything with her. When I found her, she only had her backpack with school supplies and a few clothes. No blankets or food items, nor any personal belongings. It seems like she hasn't been here for very long, but she's been attending school for a few weeks now." Damian says

Bruce pauses for a moment "That's... odd. Even if someone had recently become homeless, they would have more than just school supplies, especially if they've been living outside." Bruce says mostly to himself before turning back to his son "What are you thinking Damian?" Bruce asks

Damian remains silent for a while before responding, "With your permission, Father, I would like to invite her over after school tomorrow. Perhaps we could learn more then. I heard it's supposed to rain tomorrow as well, and I'd feel bad knowing my friend was out there getting sick." Damian states and waits for a response

"I see. Very well then, you may invite her over, I'll inform Alfred so he will make extra for dinner." Bruce says, calling Alfred in. "In the meantime, you need to turn in for the night, I'll speak with Alfred about tomorrow"

"Very well, goodnight father." Damian says, walking past Alfred

Bruce POV:

"Master Bruce? Are you alright?" Alfred asks having heard the conversation

Bruce doesn't speak for a moment, but eventually, he turns to face the loyal butler

"Alfred I... I don't want to get my hopes up. I know that it's probably just a coincidence, but... when you pick the two of them up tomorrow, I want you to call me immediately and let me know if it... if it's possible.. if it could be -"

"I will Master Bruce. I promise that the moment I am able to confirm, I will let you know." Alfred says

"Thank you Alfred." Bruce says, as he unlocks one of the drawers in his desk, and he pulls own a dusty photo and cleans it, the photo being a photo of him, and his long lost daughter smiling eating icecream

"I know it's... highly unlikely, but would you like me to prepare her favorite? Even if it's not her, I know that you enjoy the meal as well, and it's been awhile, it'd be nice to relive the good memories." Alfred suggests

"That... that would be nice Alfred, thank you." Bruce says before looking at the photo again and putting it away

The next day:

Damian was right, it is raining and by the looks of it, it'll be raining all day, the day begins the same as normal with Damian getting prepared for school, and packing a larger umbrella with him before heading down to breakfast where he finds two of his older brothers

Damian POV:

"Grayson, Drake" Damian greets them

"Hey kid, you got everything you need? It's raining cats and dogs out there" Dick says causing Damian to roll his eyes

"I'm well aware Grayson, I already knew this would happen so I prepared accordingly, even grabbing a larger umbrella to fit us" Damian replies

"Us? Who's us? We aren't going out today" Tim asks

"Us, as in me and my friend, I'm bringing her here after school today. I've already informed Father and Alfred. You two better not freak her out." Damian warns

"Woah, you're bringing a friend home? That's new" Dick says

"You have friends? Like. Real friends? From school?" Tim laughs

"Yes I have friends. What's with the laughter. And whats real friends supposed to mean" Damian snaps

"Well, considering your always calling people peasants it's surprising, not to mention it's someone who's not like us." Tim replies as if it's common knowledge

"What is that supposed to mean. Y/n doesn't have to be like us. We're friends, and that's that. Honestly, we're practically siblings. That's what the people at school say." Damian says. "Oh, and for your information, she may be in a tough situation right now. I don't yet know the details, but something is up, so when she gets here, you guys better not say anything suspicious, got it?" Damian basically orders before he walks away to head to school.

"Y/n? Huh..." Dick mutters to himself

"What is it? You know this person?" Tim asks

"No no it's just... I swear I've heard that name before." Dick says almost serious

At school, y/n pov:

'Okay, y/n, there's no need to panic just yet. No one's said anything, so he didn't tell anyone. What do I say if he brings it up? It happened while in the suit, so he probably won't approach it as himself, but what if he does? Or if he asks me about home? What do I do if he asks me about my parents? I need to think of a plan. Dad always has plans, but what do I even do? I can't just go up to the manor and explain who I am. It's been..' y/n pauses to do math but fails 'it's been an unknown amount of years, it's possible more things have changed than what I can tell. It's possible they won't even remember me, or they could think I was some sort of clone like in a Sci fi movie. I don't know anything for certain yet, so I have to play it safe... even if it hurts'

Y/n braces herself, thoughts of things that could go wrong still swirling about in her mind, but she can't think about that now, she has classes to attend.

Damian arrives to class and greets her like normal, she holds back her sigh of relief knowing that it's probably because it was 'Robin' that she talked to last night, she's seen her dad shift between personas before and if he learned from him then he won't mention a thing about what happened.

The two start talking about homework, which y/n suddenly realizes she didn't do, but before she can worry about it, the teacher speaks up

"Good morning class, today's going to be a bit different as we're starting a new project and for this you'll need to work in pairs, so before anything, everyone needs to go around and get into pairs and then when that's done I'll start handing out information on the project and explain what it is."

"Y/n? Would you like to work on this project together?" Damian asks

"Sure, we work together on some stuff already so this should be a peice of cake" y/n replies

"Perfect, we can work on it at my place after school as well, speaking of which, would you like to come over today? It's Friday, and I was thinking we could have a uh... sleepover. There's lots of stuff we could do, and it'll be easier to find time for the project that way and you could stay for the whole weekend" Damian asks, hoping to convince his friend without sounding weird. But he can't stand the idea of her being outside all weekend, especially with Gothams weather.

"Oh! Sure I would love to come over for a sleep over it sounds like a lotta fun!" Y/n replies, trying to hold back her excitement 'oh my god this works out perfectly. Now I can see what's changed, maybe I can talk to dad, I hope he's okay, this'll let me find out if he remembers me or not. I'll finally have Alfred's cooking again!' Y/n thinks to herself

"Good good, I'll have our bulter Pennyworth pick us up straight after school. We have a library in the manor so we don't need to use the schools library, oh and just a warning, my brothers are probably going to be at the manor as well, just ignore them, they're fools." Damian says

'There's more of them?!' Y/n thinks to herself, trying to hide her shock, but Damian notices anyways but he doesn't say anything about it.

"Alright class, now that everyone is partnered up I'll explain the project, this one will take a few weeks so listen up" the teacher says, gathering everyone's attention and explains the project

They spend the rest of class working on the project, writing notes, and during breaks they talk about what they're going to do at the manor, Damian discovers y/n knows even less movies than he does so they decide they could have a movie marathon when they first get there.

Before they know it, school is over and it's time to head out. Just as Damian said, Alfred comes to pick them up right after school, and parks somewhere where the rain isn't as intense.

"Hello Pennyworth, this is Y/n." Damian introduces the two noticing the pale look on Alfred's face just like he had when he first mentioned Y/n

"Hello, thank you for picking us up Alfred!" Y/n says, happy to see Alfred again after all this time, though a bit shocked to see how white his hair has gotten, but otherwise he looks the same. She too sees the pale in his face, but is still too nervous to say anything.

"Of course miss Y/n" He says, while getting into the car "If you'll excuse me, I have a phone call to make while we head to the manor, so I'll put the sound dividers up, in the mean time the two of you can pick what music you wish to listen to during the drive" Alfred says

"Alright, here y/n, we can listen to almost any song with this" Damian says

As the two begin to look through the music, Alfred sinks into the sea as he processes what he's seen. Could it really be Y/n?

Alfred pov:

He takes a moment to compose himself, he has a cold sweat, but he calms himself and calls Bruce

The phone feels like it rings forever before Bruce answers

"Hello Alfred, any news?" Bruce asks, for he was waiting for this call ever since Alfred left

"It's her Master Bruce. It has to be. She looks exactly the same as she did before. She sounds the same, too, I froze for a moment, but neither of them addressed it." Alfred says

"Are you sure? Did she say anything?" Bruce asks

"She didn't say much. However, when Damian introduced us, he referred to me as Pennyworth as he always does, yet Y/n referred to me as Alfred, regardless. Her eyes were unmistakable, even if it were someone who looked like her, those eyes, I would never forget them." Alfred says

"I see. Come get me once you arrive at the manor, we need to discuss how were going to go about this, see what she knows and confirm everything for sure." Bruce replies

"Of course Master Bruce, we'll be their shortly" Alfred informs him

The drive passes quickly and they arrive at the manor, quickly getting in as the rain pours harder and harder. Alfred takes their umbrellas and coats

"Alright, I have some business to attend to, but I shall make dinner shortly. Feel free to do whatever you wish in the meantime, but stick together, wouldn't want anyone to get lost." Alfred says side eyeing Y/n

"No need to worry, Pennyworth. I've memorized the layout of the manor. We will be heading to the theater first, you may find us there when dinner is ready." Damian states

"Wow, you weren't kidding, you actually brought a friend," two voices call out, causing Damian to scowl

"Grayson, Drake." Damian turns to the approaching duo."Y/n, these are my older brothers and nuecences. Who have apparently decided to bother us." Damian says

"Awe, don't be like that, Dames. we just wanna meet our baby brothers new... friend, " Dick says, meeting Y/n's gaze "Anyways- the names Dick Grayson, pleasure to meet you" he introduces himself before elbowing the boy next to him to stop his stareing

"Ow- oh uh, I'm Tim Drake. Sorry about Dick, it's not every day we meet a friend of the demons. Are you guys going to be working on something?" Tim asks

"Oh well, technically, we have a school project, but we have plenty of time to work on it, so we were going to have a um, 'movie marathon'" Y/n replies, unsure of how to react

"Yes, we plan to binge some movies that neither of us have seen before, I also wrote a list of other activities we could do, including but not limited to, various board games" Damian replies

"Wow, sounds like fun, maybe we'll pop in for a movie or two later on" Dick teases

"Grayson-" Damian hisses before being interupted

"Ahem, boys play nice, Master Dick and Master Tim, dinner will be ready in a few hours, I have some matters to attend to with Master Bruce, so please behave yourselves." Alfred states

"Alright, alright, we'll let the two of you go have fun, but don't think we won't drop by for some family board games." Dick says

Groaning, Damian leads Y/n towards the theater while Alfred heads to Bruce's office, leaving Dick and Tim alone

"...... So I'm not the only one who noticed she looks exactly like Bruce, right?" Dick asks

"No, no, you were not. How is this even possible she looks like she's Damian's age, so it's not like Bruce had another affair? But she looks so much like him it's kind of creepy, it could be another clone situation." Tim replies

"Makes Damians little comment about them being siblings earlier seem like it may not have been a joke" Dick says

"He didn't say anything about it, though. You'd think he'd have made all sorts of blood siblings comments by now." Tim says

"Yeah..." Dick says absentmindedly

"You good Dick?? You look like your thinking which is never a good thing" Tim jokes

"Ha ha, very funny. I'm fine. I was just. I feel like I've heard the name Y/n before but can't remember where, " Dick explains, and the two of them stand there for a moment before deciding to actually join movie night

With Alfred:

"Master Bruce?" Alfred approaches the office and lets himself in, noticing the papers all over the place, recognizing all of them

"Is it really possible? Even if it is her, how hasn't she grown up? She'd have been older than Dick by now. And if it is her, why didn't she come back? Why did it take until Damian invited her over for her to come here? Are we sure she even remembers us? What if it's some sick joke? What if some villain made a clone of her and sent her here to toy with me? What if -"

Before he could spiral any further, Alfred cuts him off

"Master Bruce. Calm down. I'm aware of how... odd this situation is, and there is much to discuss. However, I feel it would be best for you to speak to her yourself. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this. She is her father's daughter, I'm sure she'll explain everything." Alfred says

"And what if she can't? What if it isn't really her and just a huge coincidence? What then? We would be back at Square one not knowing what happened to her or where to find her or-"

"You're doing it again Master Bruce. Please, go talk to her" Alfred says

"Alfred I- I don't know if I can. If I can face her. It's been so long I.." Bruce, finally looking away from his papers to look up at his butler

"It'll be okay. I'll be there with you as well. You... you don't have to see her just yet. You could wait for then to finish with a few of their movies and settle in before approaching. It'll give you some time to brace yourself as well." Alfred suggests

"That.. sounds like a plan Alfred, thank you." Bruce says

"Of course Master Bruce. I'll go ahead and start dinner now, it shouldnt take too long, so I'll fetch you when it's done, and we can go talk to her. And then have dinner afterward," Alfred replies

"Alright Alfred." Bruce says

After some time passes, the kids have watched around two and a half movies, they're in the middle of third when they hear footsteps approaching

Y/n Pov:

Y/n slightly tenses up. She knows those footsteps, even through the sound of the movie, she can hear them. Her father always taught her to notice the little things like that. The boys notice but don't think much of it until

"Ah, there you all are, Alfred told me you guys would be in here," Bruce's voice calls out as he walks over the greet the others, he looks more tense than usual, but he has been for the past few days it's probably case related the boys think

"Hello father, this is my friend y/n" Damian turns to look at Bruce who after making his way over to everyone finally lays his eyes on y/n, and he freezes

Dick and Tim don't say anything, both looking back and forth between Bruce and Y/n wide eyes, there is a long awkward silence before Damian decides to speak up

"Alright, what is with everyone today! I swear you have all been acting strange. It's not even that rare for me to have friends. If I knew you'd all act like this, I would've thought twice. Even you father, I can't believe it -" Damian starts to scold, but Y/n cuts him off

"It's okay, Damian, cut him some slack, it's not every day a dad sees his dead daughter again" Y/n says while putting a hand on Damians shoulder with wet eyes

"It really is you, Y/n..." Bruce says, tears forming in his eyes

"Hey, Dad... I'm back, I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, and I know you probably have a lot of questions, but -" Before y/n can continue, Bruce pulls her into a hug, and the two let out their tears

The others can only stand there and watch as the two cry and apologize to another

"So, I'm all for new family members but what the hell is happening right now can anyone explain" Dick asks

"I agree with Grayson for once, what is going on?" Damian adds

"It's... a long story that we can discuss later. First things first." Bruce stands up but doesn't let go of Y/n almost like he's worried if he let's her go she'll disappear again."Right now, all that matters is that it's time for dinner. Alfred made your favorite Y/n, we weren't sure if it was really you but we wanted to hope it was." Bruce says and they all head to the dining room, still all in shock

They sit at the dinner table and-

"Wow Bruce, another kid? You seriously have a problem." A voice calls out causing the others to look at him and try to signal that it's not the time to say stuff like that

"Hello Jason, it's good to see you too. And for your information, this is Y/n, and technically, she was my first kid, " Bruce says. "Are you here for dinner?"

"Yeah, I wanted some of Alfred's cooking- hold on. What do you mean she's your first kid she's like the same age as the demon spawn??" Jason acts

"Oh that's because I was dead for- ..... uh dad how long was I dead for? I didn't do the math" Y/n says

"It's been... 20 years now" Bruce says hesitantly and watches the realization set in in everyone's eyes

"Oh... wow... that's a lot longer than I thought... but yeah, I've been dead for a while. I only came back to life earlier this month... Also, dad, I know we'll do questions later, but I don't actually know how I came back to life, I was completely alone when I woke up, and I wasn't where I died." Y/n tells him

"I see. That's alright, my dear, we can worry about that later, Damian told me about where you were staying after he found you during patrol, so I'm sure you're hungry" Bruce says

"Father! "Bruce!" The boys yell

"What?" He turns around confused

"Pft wow bruce" Jason laughs only causing Bruce to look even more confused

"Dad I think they're talking about the fact you mentioned patrol" Y/n tells her father while giggling

"Oh, guys, y/n already knows. Well, she knew about me and knowing my daughter she put two and two together when she saw Damian as Robin" Bruce explains

"Yeah, the moment I heard about there being more vigilantes and that apparently dad had more kids, I figured he started a family business, speaking of which dad how many kids did you have after me??? Did you lean into the 'Brucie' persona that much?" Y/n asks, nudging her father

"Okay, in my defense, most of them are adopted. You and Damian are my only biological children, and technically.... these aren't the only ones there's a few more, but they're out right now. Technically Dick and Jason don't live here anymore. They come here for Alfred's cooking most of the time, " Bruce says and almost as if on que y/n's stomach growls, "Speaking of which, it sounds like it's time to eat."

They finally settle at the dinner table, and Alfred brings out the food, y/n practically drools at the smell alone

They eat, and none of them say anything, but they all notice y/n crying while eating the food, and they wonder what she's been through in the month since she woke up before coming here. Bruce and Alfred especially make mental notes to do a health check-up and get her back onto a proper and healthy diet once she's settled back in. Alfred has many mixed feelings seeing y/n eat. She eats much faster than she used to. Jason notices this also and knows what it's like trying to find food on your own as a kid. He not so subtly gives her some of his food.

After dinner and desert (Alfred was so relieved to hear it really was her, he made cookies to celebrate)

Y/n starts to look really tired

"Are you alright sweetheart?" Bruce asks

"I'm okay, dad, just stuffed. It's been a while since I've eaten that much. I'm probably going to have a food coma - that was a joke. I'm not actually going to fall into a coma. " She quickly adds, knowing how much her dad overthinking things

"Well, food coma or not, it's been a long day, I think it's time for you to head to bed." Bruce says, standing up

"Aw, dad already? We haven't even gotten to talk, and I know you have questions, and I do too, and" Y/n starts

"Sweetheart." Bruce says firmly but warm as he crouches down to meet his daughters eyes. "You're right. There are many questions, but those questions can wait. You need your rest. As much as I want to know everything, I want to make sure you're okay first. We can talk in the morning, and the day after, and so on. Your home now." Bruce says

"Yeah... I'm home now." Y/n says, as she starts to cry again and Bruce gently scoops her up in his arms

"It's okay, sweetheart." He says cooing

"I missed you so much, dad." y/n cries

"I missed you too." Bruce says, "Let's get you to bed, I'm sure you've missed your room too. " He starts to walk through the halls while the others are still sitting at the table stunned

"You still have my room?" Y/n asks as Bruce carries her

"What kind of question is that? Of course I still have your room." Bruce replies

"Well... it's been so long, and you probably knew I was dead so I figured-"

"I never accepted you were dead." Bruce cuts her off. "I always hoped I would find you one day. Even if you were a grown adult, I kept your room the same." Bruce says

"Dad..." Y/n says, knowing that this whole time, her father has been looking for a daughter that he would never find "I... I *was* dead... I'm sorry-"

"Don't you dare apologize. Your only a kid it isn't your fault. Whatever happened wasn't your fault. We can talk about it more in the morning. But for now.." Bruce takes out his keys and unlocks the door to Y/n's room and tucks her in. She yawns and Bruce starts to get up but Y/n grabs him

"Dad... could you stay with me until I fall asleep? I know you have work to do and that those guys are probably waiting but-" y/n pauses

"Of course I will. Just rest now my dear." Bruce says and it's not long before y/n is out like a light

Bruce after a few more minutes finally gets up, he plugs in a nightlight and makes his way back to the dining room where he is then greeted by the boys and he sighs

"Boys."

"Bruce" "Father

"Alright. I suppose it's time to explain." Bruce starts as he pulls out a chair "Where do I even begin?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaaaaaaand another cliffhanger! Sorry not sorry but I've been working on and off on this post for weeks I think. Theres still a good bit of story left (aka the explanations) I don't currently have much planned afterwards but I feel like when I write the next part depending on how I write it this may become a mini series (I say mini because again, I don't have much planned this started out as a random concept in my head) if i do write more after the explanations I'd definitely lean even more into the yandere aspects (I attempted to start planting some seeds of it with the batfam getting more concerned and protective, and the next part will definitely tip them over the edge :) hehe )

I'm sorry if the characters are well, out of character but, *points to the fact I'm new to this fandom and new to writing fanfiction in general*

Also I'm sorry there's no cass, duke, barb, or steph

I don't know much about them yet, I know who they are but not really how they act or solid personality traits so I don't know how to write them yet, but I'll probably allude to them or say that the others explain the situation to them or smth

Thanks for being patient with me for this part lol

[gotta-winwin]

(🎞️) ... hit the road docu.<> and for the ghosts that haunt me

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 3.6k tw: anxiety, mentions of bullying, panic attacks, blood, use of slut shaming italics are interviews cut between scenes + english a/n: this is a retelling of a story that is extremely close to my heart. school bullying is NOT a joke, and remember that you're beautiful, strong and that no matter what anyone else says - you define who and what you are. if any of the above trigger warnings trigger you - scroll away, stay safe, and come back for the next one 💓

“Cyana!”

Cyana turned to greet her, a mysterious, faceless young girl whose voice sounded all too familiar. 

“Chloe, hey.” She smiled, a wave of fond memories washing over her as she reminisced about what used to be. “I’ve missed you.”

“We saw each other yesterday, silly.” Chloe laughed, the sound sending sudden chills down Cyana’s spine. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cyana asked, noticing the sinister glare behind Chloe’s friendly smile. “Chloe?”

“You really don’t know, huh?” Chloe chortled, eyes dancing with mirth, relishing in the glory Cyana’s confusion and fear gave her. “God, you really are dense. Just like your mother. Bet you won’t go to university, just like her.” 

“Stop that.” Cyana protested, and a sudden sense of deja vu washed over her. This had happened before. “What’s going on, Chloe? Aren’t we friends?” 

“Psh.” Chloe hid a smirk behind her hand. “You’re way too naive to be sixteen, Cyana.” 

Sixteen? She frowned. She was way past sixteen now. Turning twenty one just a couple months ago had hit her like a truck. She didn’t feel her age. In her head she was still sixteen, huddled behind bathroom stalls and hanging her head low in hallways. 

“Cyana?” A familiar voice spoke out of Chloe’s face. “Cyana?”

She blinked. 

“Chan?” 

The familiar face of her self-proclaimed twin and tour roommate hovered over her, blurred and hazy as she blinked up at him. Gentle fingers placed her glasses on the bridge of her nose, and a worried Chan came into clear view. 

“Are you okay, Nana? You were crying out for something.���

She sat up, nearly bumping into him as she looked around, disoriented. “I- just a dream.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chan echoed the words his hyungs used to say years ago. “I used to get nightmares too. Jeonghan always said talking about it would make it easier.” 

She shook her head. 

“Cyana, she-” Dino paused, thinking. “She doesn’t like talking about herself very much. Sometimes I wonder if I really know her at all, and then I shake myself out of it because- she’s my twin. Of course I know her well. There are just some things she’s not ready to share yet.” 

Cyana could feel her hands shaking as she packed for LA. Although she had been mentally counting down the days of tour leading up to it, she hadn’t realized it’d be so soon. 

“Nana-yah?” Joshua knocked against the wall of her hotel room, poking his head in. “Are you all ready? We’re leaving soon.”

She hummed, keeping her head low, scared he’d pinpoint her red eyes and accuse her of crying. “Almost done.” 

Nothing ever got past Joshua.

“Are you alright?”

Cyana really wished people would stop asking her that.

“I’m fine.” 

“Cyana, she-” Joshua let out a breathy laugh. “Her tolerance for things is too high for her own good.” 

Lingering by her door, Joshua’s eyebrows were pulled tight as he watched Cyana continue packing, her hands quivering under the dim lights of the room. A storm cloud was starting to stir within him, something deeply unsettling and worrying hovering just above the horizon - Joshua could sense it. 

“I was never good at weaseling the truth out from others. Or forcing them to tell me. That was Cheol’s job. But he wasn’t there.” Joshua gave the camera a weary shrug. “It was what it was.” 

Wonwoo was the one who found Cyana on the cold tiles of the airport bathroom, ten minutes before their flight to LA. 

Pushing the door open with the brunt of his shoulder, Wonwoo crashed into the single occupant stall, disheveled and frantic as he stared at the girl sprawled across the tiles. 

“Cyana?” He gasped out, catching his breath as he bent down, moving her hair away from her face. “Everyone’s looking for you. What-” Reality hit him like a rock as he realized the severity of the situation. There were dozens, if not hundreds of fans outside, and Cyana was currently lying on the floor, her eyes bloodshot and unfocused. “Where does it hurt?” 

Her blurry eyes looked up to meet him as she took in his features. “Wonu?” 

“Yeah.” His hands hovered shakily over her frame as his mind short-circuited, scared to move her but equally scared to let her stay on the floor. “The floor is unsanitary, Nana.” He mumbled, trying to calm himself as he checked for injuries. “Where does it hurt?”

Her hand moved to her chest. 

“Your-” He paused, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

“I can’t breathe.” 

Ah. Panic attack. Why, Wonwoo had no clue, but at least he was familiar with these.

“Sit up. That’s good.” He braved a smile as he helped Cyana situate herself so she was leaning against the wall. Sitting down in front of her, Wonwoo spread his long legs in an uncomfortable position, but favourable for holding her as close as she needed. “Breathe. Slowly.”

He felt her whole body shake as she inhaled. 

“Breathe again.” He whispered, painfully aware of the time ticking away - a plane waiting to be caught. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

He felt her shake her head, her hair brushing against his chin as she did.

“Please.” 

“I don’t want to go to LA.” 

Wonwoo had suspected so. “Why?” 

Cyana didn’t know what compelled her to tell him everything - but she did, crying on the bathroom floor in some grimy airport, covered in his arms. Wonwoo stayed silent as she spoke, his strong arms holding her together like glue as tears fell from his own eyes, mirroring the ones in hers. 

“Yeah, I knew. I knew everything.” Wonwoo told the camera, revealing the truth after nearly six months. “But once she had collected herself back together again, she told me to keep everything to myself. So that’s what I did.” 

“Cyana, you need to get out of bed.” 

Dino watched from his spot on his own bed, as Joshua gently scolded his roommate. He was confused why an usually active and energetic Cyana had been lounging in bed all day, practically every day since they had landed in LA. 

“Shua hyung’s right, Nana.” Dino quietly voiced his opinion, frowning when Cyana grumbled unhappily. “What’s been going on with you? So grumpy.”

“We’re here for our concert, right? So I don’t have to go outside.” Cyana argued, pulling the blankets tighter around herself. “Please don’t make me go out.”

“We’re here for a week, Nana.” Joshua sighed, exasperated. “You can’t stay here all week.”

Cyana’s lower lip jutted out. “Watch me.” 

Dino watched the whole exchange like a tennis match, his head turning back and forth as he watched them speak, confused by the sudden switch in language. “Nana.” He tried again, thinking maybe she’d be more receptive if it was coming from him. “Please? You said you’d take me sightseeing.” 

Cyana hesitated. She had agreed to Dino’s ask for her to be his tour guide, but that was before - 

“Okay, fine.” She relented, unable to take back her promise. “But only today. And we’re avoiding the popular spots.” 

Dino only got up excitedly, hurriedly getting ready and grabbing his bag. Joshua, on the other hand, frowned at her words. Avoid the popular spots? But why? Even as idols, they could often roam around unfazed, especially in the states, where Seventeen was yet to be a household name. 

“I was already worried then.” Joshua told the interviewer solemnly. “But we had enough bad vibes going around and- I guess I was praying it was all in my head, and that she was actually perfectly fine.” 

“You run away from your past until it all eventually coils up and attacks you all at once.” Cyana let out a defeated laugh. “LA was full of demons- demons I had fled to Korea to avoid. And now- well, tour had brought me right back where I started.” 

Cyana stared out into the vast ocean of fanlights trying to catch her breath. Joshua had told her - moments before running onstage - to just breathe. To ignore everything else around her and to just concentrate on the performance, on them. It was easier said than done because now, looking out into the crowd, all Cyana could think about was the probability of one of those fanlights being someone she knew. 

A small, miniscule possibility - but it terrified her nonetheless. The same kids that had threatened to destroy her could very well be staring up at her from the sea of fans and she felt too vulnerable. 

“Breathe.” 

Wonwoo appeared next to her, waving to the fans in their section but solely concentrated on her. He could hear her harsh breathing through the screams. “Breathe, Nana.” He reminded her gently.

It felt comforting knowing at least one person knew everything she was going through. 

Taking her hand and placing it on his chest, Wonwoo’s eyes fixed on hers, his expression serious but worried. “Breathe - like me. In and out.” 

Cyana did her best to follow the rhythm. “I’m trying.” She gasped out. 

“Good.” Wonwoo smiled, and Cyana basked in the light of it. “You’re okay.” 

“Mhm.” She nodded. She could make it through the concert - concentrated solely on the two of them, the little bubble that Wonwoo’s presence created around her.

Cyana could barely see her own hands as she stumbled offstage, making her way down the stairs the moment the stage screen had closed behind them. Her heartbeat was taking over her senses, drowning out the farewell cheers of the crowd. 

Reaching a hand up to touch her face, she let out a harsh sigh of both relief and disbelief. She was still alive. 

“Nana?” DK’s voice cut through the incessant hum in her ears. “Are you okay?” 

A hand grabbed her shoulder and she flinched away violently. “Don’t touch me.” She yelped out, terrified as she spun around. 

“Okay, I’m sorry!” DK yelped back, equally terrified by her sudden reaction. “You just don’t look so well and I thought- you might need a hand.” 

Her cheeks flushed. “I’m fine.” Cyana couldn’t believe she had just snapped at DK, who looked at her with hurt in his eyes as she stumbled away towards their changing rooms. 

“She looked almost drunk.” DK confided to the interviewer. “Stumbling around backstage, her hands digging into her neck and ripping out her in-ears. She looked sick. It was terrifying.” 

“I’ll go after her.” Joshua called out towards the rest of the group, who were all frozen, unsure of what to do. 

“Wait.” Wonwoo grabbed his arm, stopping him. “She’s not in her right mind right now. Something must have happened during the farewell ment. I’ll talk to her.” 

“Are you sure?” Joshua eyed the younger boy warily. Since when had Wonwoo and Cyana gotten this close? 

Wonwoo nodded, and Joshua could sense he knew something the others did not. 

Running after her, Wonwoo skidded to a stop as he spotted Cyana sitting, half lying down on one of the makeup chairs. 

“Cyana.” He approached her, raising his hands in a sign of surrender. He didn’t know what mindset she was in at the moment. “Nana-yah.” He reached out a hand to steady her, keeping her upright as she threatened to spill on the floor. “Look at me.” 

“I’m sorry.” She panted out, her eyes unfocused. “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” The English felt strange against his tongue, but it got some sort of recognition from the girl as she raised her head to meet his eyes. 

“It’s all my fault.” 

“What is? Cyana, what?” 

“Don’t hurt me.” 

Wonwoo froze. “I’d never hurt you, Cyana.” 

“Chloe.” 

“Is that her name? The girl who hurt you back in school? The reason you left?” The questions left him in a flurry as he kept her upright, her entire body weight against his. He could tell she was on the verge of passing out. “Nana. I know you’re struggling, but you need to get it together. Please. Just until we’re back in the car.” 

Her eyes were glassy and her stare seemed to go straight through him. 

“Please.” He pushed up his glasses to wipe his tears away. Her condition scared him. 

“I don’t know how Wonwoo managed to get me back in the car.” Cyana spoke quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t remember much about that night - after the concert. But the others told me I was a mess. A zombie. Living in my skin but not quite there.” 

Cyana watched from her place on the bed as Dino paced back and forth across their shared hotel room. Wonwoo had deposited her there, promising to be back once he had found Joshua, instructing a worried Dino to look after her in his absence. 

It infuriated Cyana that they were all treating her like glass, even though she knew the emotion was unfair. They were doing their best - and she could feel herself shutting down, her safety mechanisms whirring back into place.

Dino’s footsteps seemed to thud inside her head each time he moved. Her heart was racing as she recalled the familiar face she had seen in the crowd during their farewell ment. How she yelled out her name, and that all too familiar threat. I’ll destroy you, Cyana. She had. She will. 

“Could you stop moving?” She suddenly snapped, startling Dino out from his stupor. 

He looked up from his phone and frowned. “What?” Cyana had never used such a tone with him before. 

“Just- you’re being so fucking loud and it’s actually exploding my head and it’s just- too much!” She yelled out, her hands shaking as she balled them up into fists. “Just-” She forced herself to quiet down, although her body still shook with pent up rage. “Sleep somewhere else tonight.” 

“What?” Dino’s irises shook with pooling tears. 

Cyana looked away. 

“I want to be alone tonight.” Her voice grew weaker. “Please.” 

“Oh.” 

She couldn’t bear to look at the hurt that must be across his face right now.

“Okay.”

The door clicked shut behind him. 

Cyana sunk deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets over her as she squeezed her eyes shut, silent tears pooling from the corners. 

She had never felt so horrible. 

“You need to tell me what’s happening.” Joshua ambushed her the next morning, setting a breakfast bun and a cup of milk on her bedside drawer.

“Josh. It’s like seven in the morning.” She mumbled, tugging the sheets closer to her as she rolled away. 

She was tugged back by a stronger but gentle hand. “I don’t care if it’s seven in the morning.You need to tell me what’s going on.” 

Cyana knew he was right. 

“I don’t even know where to begin.” Her shoulders slouched as she sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “There’s too much.” 

“Start at the beginning.” Joshua sat down on the bed and turned to face her. 

“I don’t know what I was expecting, really.” Joshua told the interviewer. “Something about school, or acting, I was sure. But not what really happened. No sane person would’ve expected that. Especially for it to happen to Cyana.” 

Joshua listened as Cyana spoke, her voice strangely calm as she led him through it all - starting brand new in highschool, making friends, feeling included. His expression grew darker and darker as the story progressed, eyebrows furrowing as he imagined little Cyana in the scenarios she was speaking of right now. 

Cyana told him everything. How her close friends- her ride or dies had betrayed her, turning against her all because of rumors a girl had spread to her classmates. How they had bullied her out of school- out of LA entirely. 

“Chloe.” Joshua finally said after she had finished, gently wiping away a lonely tear that had fallen on her cheek. “I heard Wonwoo muttering about that name.” 

Cyana nodded. “She was one of my best friends. You know those people who take your phone and unlock it- and you don’t even bat an eye? Or how you subconsciously hand over your bubble tea for them to try. The first person you call when something good or bad happens to you. She was that for me.”

“And she turned everyone against you?” 

She hummed. It was a strange feeling - to re-explore the past. Cyana had found she never had any trouble when talking about it, because it’d always sound like a story she had made up. She’d forget it had actually happened to her. That is, until the stories become reality once again. “She said she’d destroy me. And she did. I never found out why, why she woke up one day and decided I was no longer a person who could feel anything she threw at me.”

“And being back in LA, like, triggered something?” 

“I guess. I was- it’s silly.” 

Joshua shook his head. “Nothing’s ever silly when it comes to stuff like this.” 

“Well, I- I was scared my classmates would find me at our concert and try to- hurt me. Or hurt one of you.” Cyana looked down at her lap, her cheeks burning. “It’s stupid.” 

“No.” His voice was firm enough to make her look up at him again. “It’s not. Every fear, however irrational you might think it is, stems from something.” 

Cyana nodded. “When did you get so wise, Shua?” 

Joshua’s lips twitched. “I’ve always been wise.” His expression sterned as he remembered his initial question. “You saw someone, didn’t you? At the farewell ment.” 

She let out a cough, choking on her spit. “How did you know?” 

Joshua let out a dry chuckle. “I think everyone could tell something went wrong during the ment.” 

“I saw her. Chloe. Standing front row, waving a Vernon banner.” 

“What did she do?” 

“She yelled my name, so I turned around and-” Cyana hesitated, as if the words refused to leave her mouth. “She said she’d destroy me. Just like she did in high school.” 

Joshua let out a shaky sigh. “You need to tell Coups. Or management.” 

Cyana’s hand shot out to grab Joshua’s leg. “No!” She protested. “I’m sure it’s just in my head or something. We’re leaving LA soon anyways, it’ll-” She tried pasting a smile on her face, as if to reassure both herself and Joshua it’d be okay. “I’ll be fine.” 

Joshua hesitated before agreeing. “Alright. But if anything else happens-”

“You’ll be the first to know.” Cyana finished for him. “I promise.” 

Joshua stood up, gesturing to the breakfast still sitting on her bedside table. “Eat. You’ve been rotting in that bed for two days. And take a shower after. Nasty.” 

She let out a laugh and Joshua brightened visibly at the sound. 

“She’s better now.” He told Mingyu, who was waiting anxiously by her door as he stepped out, closing it behind him. “Opened up. Laughing even.” 

“Thank god.” Mingyu’s shoulders relaxed. 

“You should go shower too.” Joshua made a face as he walked away. “You’ve been rotting by her door ever since she went in. You too, Dino.” He added, spotting the boy who was sitting on the floor in the hallway, eyes unfocused. “Get some sleep, she’s fine.” 

Cyana could hear all this through the walls, as she slid back into bed, her breakfast lying cold beside her. Her stomach churned at the thought of eating, and her heart weighed heavy knowing she had slighted Joshua. 

Sure, she had told him the truth about what was going on- what had happened. But she wasn’t better. She knew they’d worry themselves sick and be rendered useless the rest of tour if she didn’t get her act together - so that’s what she did. She acted. Thank god for her acting background, or she would’ve collapsed into Joshua’s arms sobbing. She nearly did, but she caught herself.

After all, Cyana was glue. Flexible, strong, hard to get rid of. Whatever broke her down, she’d get back together, she was sure of it. 

“Cyana.” 

She found herself back in her school’s gymnasium, surrounded by fellow classmates all dressed up. She knew this night. Spring Fling night - where dating was overlooked for one night in an all Catholic school. 

“Cyana.” 

She turned, and realized who was behind her. 

“Matthew.” She gasped out. He hadn’t aged at all, his hair was still infuriating lopsided, curls never landing straight, his eyes crinkled up in a large smile. “What-”

“I heard you’re so obsessed with me you wrote me over 200 songs.” His loud mouth split into a nightmarish grin. “Slut. You spread your legs open for anyone, huh.”

“What?” Cyana gaped at him. But- she had heard all this before. 

“Cyana! Look over here!” 

She turned, and blinked as a bright camera flash blinded her. 

“I’m framing this so I can jack off to it later.” The boy who held the camera was faceless. “You let Matthew, so why not me?”

“I don’t-” 

“Cyana!”

“Wonwoo?”

She turned around once again, greeted by Wonwoo, dressed in a pale blue suit, his hair pale white. He smiled at her with his hand outstretched. 

“Dance with me?”

She let out a breath of relief, reaching her hand out to take it. All of a sudden, something came flying towards them, causing Wonwoo to slump to the floor, blood dripping from his side, his glasses askew on his face.

“Wonwoo!” 

“You really thought we’d let you get your happy ending?” Someone laughed from the shadows of the party, the disco lights reflected against shadowed figures. “After I said I’d destroy you?”

She glanced back down at Wonwoo, who was on the floor, his eyes wide and frozen. She stifled a scream. 

“Cyana!”

“Cyana! Wake up!” 

a/n: oof. this one's a heavy one. i really wanted to bring this story into cyana's character - and if you can relate to any part of it - hope her journey to healing can help you in yours. fighting !! and remember: kindness is supposed to be a guarantee, not a "if."

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part two)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: reader recently decided to get a physics tutor...it's time for the first session with jayce talis

notes: walk with me and suspend ur disbelief in the actual physics talk...i have to make it somewhat believable that they're actually having tutoring sessions so i dug into the crevices of my brain for old physics topics that aren't too hard if you know them...if you don't..hopefully jayce makes sense LMAOOOO. but i will try not to do too much physics that it takes you out of it, i just want to build the tension and relationship. just trust me.

again mentions of neurodivergence/adhd references but that’s it really

word count: 1.9k

series masterlist

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Ekko was your longest friend—the closest one you had. He understood your brain even more than Viktor did, which was saying something. Since the day the two of you met in middle school, you became accustomed to one another. You knew each other like the back of your hands—which is why you knew he’d be so upset right now.

Immediately after leaving the student center, you scrambled to the dining hall. You and Ekko had a standing lunch date every day unless one of you said otherwise. There wasn’t always anything to say, but the idea of each other’s company comforted you—comforted him. He had been adamant that even if you two sat in silence, worked on classwork, or simply watched something on your phones, that the time was well spent.

Ekko valued these meetings in particular after his last girlfriend. You didn’t talk about Powder much…but he was devastated when she left town. The three of you had been friends for a long time…she’d abandoned you too. Acknowledging how much harder it may have been for Ekko was hard. You were forced to pick up the pieces and it started with daily check-ins over lunch. They stuck. 

You spotted him sitting alone, sipping on his drink through the glass. You tapped on it softly, getting his attention, waving.

He lit up when you approached the table, “Funny seeing you here.” Ekko looked at his watch dramatically, “Almost thought you couldn’t tell time for a second there.” 

“I am so sorry.” You moved to sit, pulling out the chair across from him. “I got caught up at the student center, needed a tutor for physics.” 

Ekko watched you reach and grab his bag on the table. He rolled his eyes knowingly—you were going for the fries of course. 

You continued, “Viktor recommended this guy, his lab partner.” 

Ekko nodded, “Thats great…but I’m also good at physics ya know?” 

“Oh yes, I totally forgot to ask my best friend to be my tutor. My best friend who knows I cannot stay on topic to save my life…wants me to ask him to be my tutor…so we can definitely not work on physics for the entire session.” You paused, a fry just on your lip, “Besides, I didn’t really have a choice.” 

“Okay first, I would be a great tutor! And second, what do you mean, didn’t have a choice?” 

“Viktor kinda just…led me there?” 

“So you didn’t have a chance to get yourself worked up and find a way to not go…great tactic on Viktor’s part.” 

There was a silence, but never uncomfortable when you were with Ekko. You smiled to yourself at that, and then about how surprisingly well the first meeting went. 

“He seemed nice…Jayce…my tutor.” 

Ekko reached into his bag, grabbing his sandwich. “Am I sensing a but?” 

“No, actually. He just seemed genuinely invested in me not feeling bad when it comes to sucking at school.” You paused, rubbing your hands in a napkin. “He said we could work on making it all seem more interesting…which I liked.” Ekko still hadn’t unraveled his sandwich, listening intently. You watched him observe you, but not speak up. “What?” 

He shook his head, “Nothing…that’s great.” 

The rest of your lunch was spent quietly recounting your days, not much of note happening otherwise. Eventually, you parted ways with an unspoken yet understood promise that you would see each other tomorrow. 

Your first session with Jayce was also tomorrow. That was on top of everything else you had to do. So much to be done…such little time, you thought. 

The following day came just as quickly as the previous had ended. You woke in a frenzy, almost always rushing to and from one class and toward the next. Then, to tutoring. 

You stumbled in, looking for any familiar face. You were met with only one, Jayce’s. He stood quickly, grabbing a folder and his bag before approaching you. 

“Right on time.” He turned, walking you toward a room off to the side. “This will be the office we use, I requested one with a white board.” He glanced back at you for affirmation before speaking again. “If you ever come for our meetings and don’t see me in the lobby, you can just come in here.” 

“Sounds good.” Your lip curled at your voice coming out more weak than you expected. You had to admire your own consistent ability to embarrass yourself, truly. 

He stepped back, allowing you to walk in first, again. “So…I printed these forms out for you.” He opened the folder, taking out some of the pages and spreading them on the table. “This is the basis for everything you’ll need to know about physics. There’s legends here, conversion charts, some of the greek symbols you’ll need to know, circuit diagrams, acronyms…everything.” You slowly sat in your chair, observing the filled pages. Jayce noticed you looking between the table and him with wide eyes. 

“This is a lot of information…” 

He finally sat down. “It is…but we have time to get you up to speed.” 

“But there’s these quizzes.” You looked down at the table, tapping a finger lightly against the wood. “Every week we have to prove we understood the concept and I am already weeks behind so it just keeps building on things I didn’t even understand to begin with. I don’t have time, I have to pass the quizzes so I can pass the class and keep my scholarship. If I lose my scholarship, I can’t pay for school and I’ll have to drop out. And all of this over stupid fucking physics and a professor who seems to want to ruin my life specifically.” You finally took a breath, “I can’t do this.” 

“I think you can.” 

Your eyes snapped up, meeting his. The look on his face seemed sincere—as if he truly believed in the statement. Hardly knowing you at all, he had enough faith that you could, in fact, do this.

“So,” he clasped his hands together. “What’s this next quiz on? What’s the topic for the week?” He got up, grabbing a marker from the white board’s small shelf. He looked at you expectantly, a brow arching as if to ask you again. 

“Vectors.” 

He nodded, “Okay, and what confuses you about vectors?” 

“Well, I feel like I’m pretty good at understanding angles. But as soon as we add in speed or velocity I am just…confused.” 

“Let’s start there.” He wrote the words speed and velocity on the white board in broad strokes, leaving space beneath each. “What is speed? Don’t think about it too hard.” 

“How fast something is going?” 

“Exactly, like a car.” He drew a makeshift car, and an indicator of both miles and kilometers. “Velocity is different.” He sketched a quick graph, a simple y and x axis and an arrow. “Velocity indicates the direction of an object.” His hand followed the trail of the arrow he drew, emphasizing that it was in motion. “So, velocity is the only one that actually would be considered when you look at vectors. Speed is just a number…velocity represents a change in position…which is what vectors do.” 

You grimaced at his attempt to make it make sense for you. The effort was appreciated, truly, but it didn’t stick. You feigned understanding, nodding your head in an attempt to get him to move on and explain more. This was common for you. Something wouldn’t make sense, but you wouldn’t want to hold everyone up, to be a burden. So you would sit in class, half listening, half in another world. After class, you’d be forced to scour videos about the very subject the teacher had spent class time explaining. Unfortunately that was a rabbit hole, too, as you would always end up on videos that had nothing to do with school. 

His eyes narrowed, not believing that your nod was enough of an indicator that you understood. “Come with me.” He moved to grab the papers for you, stuffing them in the folder and sliding them to you. You followed without a thought, trying to match his steady pace. He lead you to a nearby park down the street and sat his bag underneath a tree. You copied, placing your bag down beside his. It was impossible to not feel awkward, and yet, he persisted. 

“Okay stand here,” he pointed a finger to a random spot on the ground. Your feet stood perfect on the space where the asphalt and grass met, one foot on each side. “So just imagine that standing here, you are the bottom of a line graph along the x-axis. He moved his hand side-to-side, palm down, reminding you that this would be the horizontal line. Hotdogs and hamburgers. You remembered the silly phrase from elementary school. 

“Okay, standing here…x-axis.” 

He walked over to the grass side, “Okay, over here…in the nice green grass…this is positive.” He walked over to the asphalt, “I’m on your left now, on the asphalt…this is negative.” 

“…Okay.” 

He walked to mirror your position, one foot on each terrain. Then, he slowly stepped on the grass. “Without thinking about numbers, how would you describe what I just did.” 

“You…” Your brows furrowed, “You walked to the grass?” 

“Right, and that is-“ 

“Positive?” 

“Exactly.” 

In a split second, he darted over to the asphalt. “How bout now?” 

“You ran to the…to the negative?” 

He nodded, meeting you back at center again. He smirked at how quickly he’d even come up with this demonstration. “This is an example of how vectors work. When you think of me running somewhere, picking up my speed, but moving to the quote unquote ‘negative,’ this could also mean that from my original position-“ 

Your eyes lit up, “You moved backwards?” 

“Yup, or even down. On a graph, I mean.” He smiled with each word, amused by how you caught on to his unorthodox teachings. “But if I move slowly and to the ‘positive’ side?” He waited for you to answer.

“You…moved up or to the right.” 

“Just like a point on a graph.” He stood, hands on his hips. 

You were on the edge of every word he spoke, analyzing his every movement. You knew it was inopportune, but it was rather characteristic for you to lose focus right then. Jayce’s eyes were…interesting. Your first instinct was to say that they were yellow. When you looked closer you noticed the border of dark brown, the flecks of hazel and copper. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen. You got so caught up, you missed his hand coming up—leaving it lingering in the air. 

“What,” he questioned, “Do you not like high-fives as encouragement?” 

You chuckled, finally meeting his hand with yours. “I actually prefer snacks as encouragement, but this works.” 

It was his turn to laugh, then. It was short-lived. You followed his line of sight to see the same woman from the resource center, the one he’d been so enraptured by. Rightfully so; she was even more beautiful than you thought. The sunlight hit her skin just right, almost glistening. You gulped, somewhat intimidated by her presence alone. 

She reached you both, immediately giving Jayce a hug before turning to greet you. 

“Hey, how’s the tutoring going?” She nudged the man beside her, looking to you for an answer. 

“It’s going well,” you glanced at your phone screen, shit. “I actually should get going, but today was really helpful, thank you Jayce, bye.” 

You shuffled to grab your things as quickly as possible, avoiding the look of surprise on Jayce’s face. It didn’t really matter, though. 

Ekko was going to be pissed, again. 

part three

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Rain Kisses

warning: none, just kissing.

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

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READERS’S POV:

“So… you’ve been going out with Hangman”, Penny teased me while we were getting ready for the bar to open on a few hours.

“In my defense, he’s proven he’s not like the others,” I said, laughing like a fool as memories of our last dates came flooding back.

“And what does your dad think about all this?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Come on, Pen,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I’m an adult now. I don’t need my dad’s permission to date whoever I want.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she said, laughing. “Your dad can’t really complain, considering he used to sneak into my room through the window back in the day.”

We both burst out laughing.

“Oh, God, Penny, I don’t want to imagine my dad like that,” I groaned, covering my eyes. “I just hope Hangman doesn’t open his big mouth and say something stupid that’ll get him grounded—or worse, punched by Rooster.”

—————————————-

JAKE’S POV

It had been two days since I last saw Y/N because of work, and I realized something: damn, I missed her. This girl was special.

“Excited to see your girl tonight, Romeo?” Coyote teased as we changed in the locker room.

“More than you know,” I admitted, sounding like some high school kid with his first crush.

“So it’s true, Hangman?” Phoenix chimed in, joining the conversation. “You’ve got the guts to date the boss’s daughter, even with Rooster as her big brother?”

“For God’s sake, it’s not like I’m scared of Chicken,” I said, laughing as I stuffed my dirty clothes into my duffel bag.

“And what does the boss think about all this?” Bob added, sitting on the bench.

“Come on, Bob, we’re not in high school anymore,” Coyote interjected. “I’ll just say it: Hangman hit the jackpot.”

Coyote and Fanboy started clapping like the idiots they were.

“So, how is she, you know, in…?” Fanboy began, smirking like a teenager.

“Watch your mouth, Seresin,” Rooster shouted from across the locker room.

“Relax, Tiger,” Phoenix said quickly. “If she’s Maverick’s daughter, there’s no way she’d let some guy like Bagman get in her pants.”

“I haven’t even kissed her yet,” I admitted with a sigh, slamming my locker shut.

“No way,” Rooster laughed, crossing his arms. “That’s my girl.”

“Not your girl, Chicken,” I corrected. “She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

——————————————

READER’S POV

Friday night, the Hard Deck was packed. I was a little disappointed that the Dagger Squad hadn’t shown up yet. I kept busy serving drinks and passing out bottles of beer when someone called out to me from behind.

“Hey, Y/N,” it was Rooster with his ridiculous mustache.

“Hey, Roo,” I said, stepping out from behind the bar to hug him. “I missed you. Haven’t seen you around lately.”

“That’s because you’ve been busy with Bagman,” he teased, playfully nudging my shoulder. “I don’t know what you did, but you’ve got that idiot wrapped around your finger.”

“I hope you’re talking about me,” said a voice behind Rooster. “Because I hope I’m the only one you’re dating”

“Oh my God, Bagman, that’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard,” Rooster groaned, wrinkling his nose. “Let me know if he gets out of line, Y/N.”

“I will, Roo, don’t worry.” Bradley kissed my forehead before heading off to join the rest of the pilots.

“I hope you and Bradley are telling the truth and there’s nothing more between you two,” Jake said, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles—a gesture he was starting to make a habit.

“Ew, never,” I quickly said, ducking back behind the bar and handing him a beer. “Bradley’s not my type. Besides, I’m more into blondes.”

I leaned on the bar and winked at him.

“God, you’re amazing,” he said, grinning as he took a sip of his beer. “What time does your shift end?”

“Too bad for you, handsome, I’m staying late tonight.”

“No problem. I’ll wait,” he said charmingly, walking over to the pool table.

The rest of the night, I could feel his eyes on me, and every time I caught him staring, he’d smile like an idiot. But eventually, I lost sight of him. Past midnight, Penny let me off since the bar had started to clear out. I grabbed my things and, not seeing Jake or the rest of the Daggers, assumed they’d left. The night was cool, and it looked like it might rain. Great—no jacket or umbrella.

“Hey, you,” Jake’s voice came from where he was leaning against his truck. I jumped, startled, and he chuckled softly.

“God, you scared me,” I said, relieved. “I thought you’d left.”

“I told you I’d wait,” he said, draping his jacket over my shoulders. It smelled like his cologne. “Need a ride?”

“Are you my knight in shining armor?” I teased, looping my arm through his.

“Your carriage awaits, my princess,” he said with an exaggerated bow, opening the door for me—just in time, as the rain started to drizzle.

By the time we reached my house, it was pouring. I was definitely going to get soaked just stepping out of the truck.

“Thanks for the ride, Lieutenant,” I said, leaning in to kiss his cheek as I opened the door.

“Wait!” he said, quickly getting out and running around to my side.

“You’re going to get wet!” I laughed as he grabbed his jacket and held it over us. He took my hand, and we walked to the door, getting drenched anyway.

I slipped on a puddle near the steps, but Jake’s arm shot out, catching me around the waist. We both laughed, soaked to the bone. His hands stayed on my waist, and I wrapped mine around his neck. His eyes locked on mine, and then they dropped to my lips.

“Still want that goodnight kiss?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Hell, yeah,” he breathed.

Without hesitation, I pulled him down to me. His lips were soft, tasting faintly of beer, and fit perfectly against mine. One of his hands moved from my waist to cradle my neck, deepening the kiss.

We pulled apart for air, but he dove back in, kissing me more passionately this time. God, I really liked this man.

“Goodnight, Lieutenant,” came a voice from behind us. My dad stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Goodnight, sir,” Jake said quickly, stepping back and grabbing his jacket to drape it over me again.

“Hi, Dad. We were just…” I stammered, feeling like a teenager caught sneaking in.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see anything, but we’re having a serious conversation tomorrow, Seresin,” my dad said before going back inside.

“Should I be worried?” Jake asked nervously.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it,” I said, smiling like a fool.

I pulled him down for another kiss, his hands gently resting on my hips.

“Goodnight, handsome.”

“Sleep well, beautiful.”

He gave me a quick peck before heading back to his truck. I stayed at the door until he drove off, leaning against it with a ridiculous smile on my face.

“He’d better treat you right, kid,” my dad called from the kitchen.

“Here we go…” I sighed. I knew I was in for a lecture, but Jake—handsome, charming Hangman—was definitely worth it.

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Chapter 5

Fic Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Chapter Summary: You and Eddie make some calls and get to know each other a little more.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, one-sided enemies to lovers, one-sided pining, miscommunication trope, anxious-ish!Reader, fem!Reader, Reader is not described, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2.4k

Master List

No beta, you all should know better by now.

“You’re old enough to buy your own now, you know. I’m only gonna up-charge you.” 

“What? Can’t a girl just buy some smokes from her friend?” 

“Right. Friends.”

“Fine, then I’m supporting a local business.” 

“What do you actually want, Stacy?”

“I’m just making sure that you two are going to play nice.”

“What the Hell? Shouldn’t you be telling her that?”

“She’s always nice.”

“Right, and I’m the queen of Sheba.”

“Well then, your majesty, just give me my smokes and I’ll be on my way.”

Bev wasn’t too happy that Eddie was going to be coming in an hour and a half later than expected on his Wednesday shift but she waved it off. The Hideout survived without him for god knows how long, the small dive could handle losing a busboy for a few hours on a weekday night. 

He sauntered into Ms. Benson’s classroom a fashionable ten minutes late, and a few dollars richer. You were already sitting at a desk chatting with Ms. Benson about who-knows-what before taking his own seat on top of the desk. 

If Eddie had to be here, he might as well rebel in his own way. He really would rather be bussing tables and trying to convince Bev to give him extra time on stage than do school services with someone who hated him. 

“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Munson.” Ms. Benson said, ignoring the fact that he was on his desk. She pulled out a thick binder and a rolodex that looked like it would fall apart if she didn’t hold it just so. “In here, you’ll find the budget for Spring Day and all of the different vendors and events that we’ve used over the past ten years.” 

Being the smart woman that she was, she placed the rolodex in front of you and dropped the binder on Eddie’s lap. He raised an eyebrow and flipped through it casually, as if looking through the Spring Day binder would provide him with secrets to the school that he could use to force Higgins to let him graduate this year. 

“There’s a phone in the teachers lounge you can use.” She continued, grabbing her own purse. “Let me know what you come up with on Monday.” 

“Wait- are you leaving?” You asked, jaw dropped as Ms. Benson started out of the room. “You’re not gonna help?”

“There’s only one phone. Just get some quotes for vendors. All of the information is in the binder. Just close the door tight when you leave.”  

Your mouth was still agape as Ms. Benson left, which was very amusing to Eddie. It was dead silent before Eddie burst out in a maniacal cackle that echoed through the classroom and made you jump. That also amused Eddie. 

“Well well, it looks like it’s just us in charge of Spring Day.” He got off the desk and dropped the binder down where he had just been sitting. Eddie leaned over the binder and flipped through it. “I’m thinking evil clowns, adding balloon popping back but with knives, and a petting zoo with snakes and goats.” Eddie turned and grinned wide at you. 

“What, no fortune teller to tell you how you’re gonna die a gruesome death?” Your voice was flat, but Eddie could pick up the hint of amusement in your voice which made his grin widen. 

“I’m sure we can dress you up in something covered in stars. I’ll sit under the table and shake it. We’ll make a killing!” Eddie laughed. 

“A killing? Really?” You shook your head at the terrible joke and flipped through the rolodex with a sour look on your face. Eddie hadn’t meant to make a pun, but if it annoyed you he’d keep it up. 

Play nice.

As if Stacy had any say over what happened between the two of you. He barely knew either of you.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to charge for anything, anyway.” you continued, flipping through the cards almost as fast as Doug flipped through long boxes at the comic shop. 

“What doesn’t kill Higgens won’t hurt us.” Eddie pressed, not even fully invested in the idea himself. Something about his talk with Stacy just got under his skin, and the only way he could shake it was by getting under yours now. 

“I don’t think half of these businesses even exist anymore.” you said to yourself as you kept flipping through the rolodex with your good hand. Eddie sighed and figured you were ignoring him until you continued. “This laundromat shut down last year. I heard it was a front for some mafia and there was a shootout.”

Eddie perked up a little, had that been an attempt at playing along? It wasn’t completely in line, but everyone in town knew that the laundromat had just been flooded from the inside when a pipe burst. 

“There’s no mafia in Hawkins.” Eddie said, looking over your shoulder at the rolodex. “Only cults that sacrifice people to the dark forces.” 

You stopped messing with the rolodex, and Eddie wasn’t sure if he’d said something wrong. You had apologized before, maybe it was too soon to joke about it? 

Eddie was usually good at reading people, but you were harder to understand. 

“So, what’s the budget that we’re supposed to be working with?” You asked, changing the subject. 

“Three pennies and an expired coupon for Benny’s.” Eddie replied, flipping back to the first page. 

“Yeah, that sounds right. I guess there’s no room in the budget when the basketball team needs new jerseys or the cheerleaders need pom-poms.” you rolled your eyes, done messing with the rolodex. 

Eddie was a little surprised at the dig towards the cheerleaders, considering your best friend was one. Had been one. Why the hell had she wanted to buy smokes from him today?

The two of you finally got up and made your way to the teacher’s lounge. Ms. Teedee, the art teacher, gave him a half hearted wave as she finished washing her coffee cup. Eddie liked Ms. Teedee, she didn’t give a shit about his reputation. Art and shop were the only classes he had ever done consistently well in, so when he was saddled with a third senior year he decided to re-take art as an easy A. 

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon calling places and taking down numbers. You did most of the talking, but Eddie took charge when you got up to use the bathroom. 

Eddie was surprised when you came back, well that you came back. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you had run for the hills and left him alone. But you did come back, two bags of chips in hand. One of them was offered to him. 

“Thanks...?” Eddie didn’t mean for that to come out as a question, but it did anyway. How was it that one minute you hated him, but another you were apologizing? You were scandalized to be left alone with him to work on this, and yet came back with food. 

He shouldn’t trust it, but he also wasn’t too good for free snacks. 

“So, what’s your deal?” Eddie asked, timing his question with you shoving a few large chips in your mouth. 

“Huh?” was your graceful reply as you covered your mouth with your hand. He could see that his timing was not appreciated, which made him feel better. 

“Your deal. Which of these fine cliques here at Hawkins Hell do you belong to?” Eddie elaborated, spreading his arms as if gesturing to a crowd when in reality he was gesturing to the table the phone was sitting on. 

You took a moment to finish chewing, giving him a glare as you finally got the chips down. Okay, maybe Eddie felt a little bad for that, as you had been nice enough to get him a snack. 

Play nice.

He was a dungeon master, he wasn’t known for playing nice. He could at least play fair though. 

“I don’t belong to anyone.” you said finally, flipping through the binder and not looking at him. “I got in late, made friends with Stacy and... I don’t know. This late in the game, cliques aren’t exactly taking new applicants. Not this close to graduation when everyone has known each other since elementary school.” 

Eddie looked at your broken wrist again, looking at all the different signatures. For someone who didn’t belong to any group, you sure were on everyone’s good side. 

Everyone had some group they belonged to. That’s how high school worked. The Freaks sat with him, the Jocks sat with their teams, the Science Nerds sat with the science nerds... that’s how high school- no, that’s how the world worked, according to Eddie. 

Your response would normally have you tucked away as “new kid” or “freshman” but neither of those fit you. You knew too many people. You hung out with an ex-cheerleader, but you weren’t exactly jumping around with excitement at the last pep-rally. Stacy still dressed like a cheerleader, and was just as nosy as one but you didn’t look popular. 

Not that there was anything wrong with the way you looked to Eddie, you just didn’t look or dress like the popular crowd. He could tell you apart from the near identical wave of perms and ponytails. 

What was your deal?

When Eddie didn’t respond in an appropriate amount of time for you, you responded with the same question. 

“What’s your deal, Eddie?” His name sounded foreign coming from your mouth. 

“Huh?” he asked, shoving a chip into his own mouth, mimicking you. You rubbed your face and let out a laugh, to his surprise. 

“What’s your deal? Or, I guess what’s Hellfire’s deal?” You clarified. 

“Well, you see, it’s a fantasy game-” 

“Not a cult?” 

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.” 

“Go on.”

You didn’t interrupt him again as he started explaining the bare basics of the game, figuring that you were just looking for an excuse to stop calling people for a moment. That was fine with Eddie, he’d happily sit here and rant about his favorite game in the teachers lounge, tainting the warden’s space with the game that they tried to hide away from the rest of the inmates. 

What he didn’t expect was for you to be listening so intently. You were looking at him, really really looking at him. If Eddie didn’t know any better, and he liked to think that he did, you seemed to be actually interested in the world he was opening up up to you. 

His eyes glanced down at your cast, and the curly signature of Chrissy Cunningham shimmered slightly on the underside of your cast. Eddie could barely make out her last name, but he could assume that the glitter gel pen signature belonged to the cheerleader. 

That reminded Eddie that, popular or not, you were still in a completely different world than him. One where people actually liked you and didn’t sneer at you for bullshit reasons. 

But then why were you looking at him so intensely? 

“So you’re playing make believe with dice and if you roll high you can do things and if you roll low you eat shit.” You said, crumpling up your bag of chips. 

It was a grossly simplified explanation of the game that Eddie had poured hundreds of hours into. 

“Yeah, basically.” At least that had killed a good fifteen minutes. 

“And you’re god.” You added, which Eddie did appreciate. 

“No, I’m Satan, remember?” He flashed you his most charming smile and you just laughed again. 

“You aren’t that bad.” You sounded like you meant that. 

“Tell that to my players, they say I’m worse than Satan.” He said with pride. 

Your conversation was interrupted by the bell, announcing that any clubs needed to pack up and leave. Eddie took that as your cue that you were done. 

You closed the binder and the notes that you two had taken over the past hour and took a deep breath. 

“Wait, shit, Mrs. Benson left. What do we do with this?” You asked, motioning to the binder and rolodex. “Do we just leave it here?”

Eddie wouldn’t have thought twice about just dumping it on one of the tables and leaving. He still had his shift to get to, but... 

“Come on, we’ll drop it on her desk.” he said, and walked out of the lounge before you could protest. 

You caught up to him a moment later, glaring at him for ditching you and leaving you to scramble with your things. Eddie wasn’t sure if he liked you more when you looked like you were hanging on his every word or looking at him with annoyance. Maybe Eddie just wasn’t sure if he liked you. He sure couldn’t tell if you like him at all. 

“It’s locked.” you said. 

“Barely. Make sure no one’s coming.” Eddie squatted down and pulled out a thin strip of plastic from his coat. He could feel his eyes on him and he looked up at you as you gaped. “Not me, look out for anyone else.” he clarified. 

Once you had looked away and down the hall, it didn’t take more than a few seconds for Eddie to jimmy the lock open. He grabbed the rolodex and the binder from you before you knew what was happening. 

Eddie had broken into the classroom, dropped the items off the desk, and slipped back out into the hallway in less than a minute. 

“How’d you learn to do that?” you asked, following him out towards the parking lot. 

Eddie just shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”

It was cool outside, the winter weather seemed to finally be on its way out. A small beep signaled you to the sleek car that Stacy drove and you waved at her. Being the good friend that she was, Stacy had offered to drive you home that night. 

“I guess, I’ll see you next week.” you said to Eddie. 

“Same bullshit time, same bullshit place.” he agreed, watching you hop into the car before heading off towards his own van and drive off. 

“Sooooo, how was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date, it was school.”

“Did you make out in the teachers lounge?” 

“No, I gave him a hand job in the janitor's closet.”

“The one by the gym, or the one by the science lab.”

“The gym. Smelled worse but at least there weren’t any dangerous chemicals.” 

“No, really, tell me what happened.”

“We called different places to get quotes for Spring Day. He also talked about Dungeons and Dragons for fifteen minutes.”

“And then you made out?”

“No.”

“But you wanted to.” 

“....Stacy, I’ve never wanted to blow someone more in my entire life.”

Author Notes: Sorry this took so long, I got so brain dead writing this. I really need to visit more of the source material. I love Eddie, but he just hasn't been talking to me much lately. Hopefully when Rise of Hellfire comes out it'll help lol

Tag List: 

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@sheneedsrocknroll92 @cyanfairywren @crocworkships @tomtomslongdong @aphrogeneias

@ghcstpyre @totheforestandtheocean @stevekeeryswife @dreamyyy222222 @ajnerdess

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@amieinghigh @hazydespair

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 5

Source for pic

Trouble 5

Word Count: 4660

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: Ohhhh, we about to start shaking things up by the next chapter! I'm so freaking excited!!! I hope you like this one, tell me all about it!

Masterlist

“Wow.” When Nami said yacht, you thought of one of those sleek, modern-looking boats. Not a pirate ship lookalike. “This is cool.” You state, still in awe at the monstrous ship you're staring at. 

“It's suuuuuuper cool!” Franky exclaims, more excited than anyone on the dock, and you can't help but agree with him. 

The ‘few people’ Nami mentioned are definitely more than twenty - you stop counting - but you recognize some of them: school friends or some neighboring kids from growing up. Others are Franky’s coworkers and buddies, and then there's an array of people that are friends of a friend. 

Anybody who's anybody wants to be at Franky’s party. 

And Zoro’s going to be late. 

You sigh, taking the steps on the plank that leads up to the ship's deck as Nami shoulder-bumps you. “He'll be here, love.” Vivi stifles a giggle when you groan in embarrassment at being caught. You don't even pretend to be thinking about something else, it's all futile with these girls. “In the meantime, let's get you some liquid courage so you can loosen up when he gets here.”

-*-

Zoro had a terrible shift. He hates doing paperwork. It's all so utterly boring. But Captain Mihawk is always grinding him, so he needs to file his reports or he risks getting on the Captain’s bad side. And that's something Zoro would like to avoid if possible. He’s pushed Mihawk’s buttons more than once. 

He doesn't want to go back to traffic control. 

Still, even though what he wished for most at this moment was to pop a cold one, prop his feet on the coffee table, and pretend to watch something on TV until his eyelids drooped down from exhaustion, he's rowing a freaking tiny boat, to get to a huge freaking ship, to attend Franky’s freaking party. 

Just because you're there. 

And he freaking wants to spend time with you. 

Even though he's arriving at the party two and a half hours late - who the fuck changed the road to get to the dock? - just so he can see you. 

Fucking heart. 

With a grunt and a final sigh, he stops the boat near Franky’s ship and uses the ladder his friend left for him to climb aboard. Much like a freaking pirate. 

Then, after a few ‘hellos’ to familiar faces, he makes his way to the bar to grab that cold beer he was craving before settling against the railing on the upper deck to get a good view of the party. 

He won't even pretend that he's not looking for you. It's exactly what he's doing. 

Somehow, his eye zeroes in on you in a split second. And it's not only because of the fact that he always finds you but because you are attracting attention to yourself. And not only because of the insane flailing of arms you're doing - is that supposed to be dancing? - or because of the way your laughter echoes around the deck. It's not even because you look effortlessly gorgeous in your outfit. 

It's because you're magnetic. 

Your simple presence commands the attention of everyone around you. Men and women alike, but the dudes feel bolder. They smirk and wink, they brush their arms against you and whisper words your way. You brush them all off, turning your attention to Nami and Vivi, but some are persistent. They linger near you, revelling in any bit of attention you care to give them. 

And it's making Zoro feel insanely jealous. 

Also, the fact that you're absolutely wasted doesn't help with your naturally clumsy disposition, so it's only a matter of time before you face-plant the grassed deck of Franky’s ship. 

That, or the idiot following you around like a puppy dog catches you with his filthy mitts, and Zoro is forced to throw hands. 

Which he can't. Because he's a cop. 

“So, I’ve got you all figured out, Roronoa…” Zoro smirks, already anticipating the teasing that’s bound to come, and he turns his attention to his friend.

“I don’t know what you mean, Nico.”

Robin chuckles against her wine glass and tilts her head your way. Zoro follows her gaze and can’t help the involuntary way his lips purse as a growl threatens to escape them. The idiot near you is still trying to get your attention.

“You don’t? Well, it’s quite simple, really, I’ve read it a million times. We follow the lovable female protagonist around, watching as she slowly falls for the male main character, revelling in the little things he does for her… like protecting her…”

Zoro’s eye twitches at the same time you swat the idiot’s hand away from your waist.

“And then comes the male character’s POV… and you know what we find out?”

Zoro sighs, his patience wearing thin and ready to snap. “Do tell me.”

“That he fell first. And waaaay harder. It’s quite endearing.”

The beer tastes more bitter than it should as he chugs it down and places the bottle on a nearby tray. “Meaning?”

“Act on it, dummy. Or are you going to wait forever?”

Zoro’s eye never leaves you. His jaw moves as if he’s weighing his options. Then he releases a heavy sigh. “Fuck it.”

So, clenching his jaw and muttering more curse words, Zoro heads downstairs. 

Just in time to see Nami slipping you another colorful drink. One mystery solved, Nami is the one that got you shit-faced. 

You thank Nami with a smile, but as you turn on your heel, you slip - obviously - and the fucking idiot dares to steady you by the waist. A growl climbs up Zoro's throat, but before he reaches you, you're thanking the man and moving away from his grip. And then your eyes light up as you see Zoro approach, a huge smile replacing the fake one you used for the asshole, and Zoro smirks, his jealousy suddenly gone. 

“Zo! Finally!” Fuck. He gets all weak in the fucking knees when you call him that. Who's the idiot now? 

“Hey, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

“Yes!” You giggle and sway your way closer to him, so he steadies you by the upper arm, ignoring how touching you just makes him want to touch you more. “I'm so drunk!”

“I can see that. Thank you, Nami.” Zoro turns to Nami, who beams and raises her own glass in a mock salute. 

“Oh, right! Thank you, Nami!” You say, and Zoro shakes his head in amusement. 

“Don't thank her, Trouble.” You giggle, and he sighs. “So, am I stuck babysitting you again? I don't suppose drunk you is easier to babysit than normal clumsy you?” It doesn't matter how annoyed he may sound. He doesn't mind babysitting you. 

“What? I resent that, Officer.” You giggle and stumble on your feet as he drags you away from the dance floor and herds you to a lounge chair. 

“Sit. I'll get you some water.”

“Nooooo!” Your nails bite into his arm as you cling to him, and the way your scent envelops him with the proximity almost makes him stagger. “You just got here, don't leave me already. I want to spend time with you!”

Zoro groans as his heart skips a fucking beat. What the hell? 

“I'm just getting you some water.”

“But I already have a drink!” You raise your glass, and half of its contents spill to the floor, missing your clothes by inches, though you barely notice it. 

“I see that.” Zoro reaches and removes the glass from your hand, ignoring your protests and forcing you to sit down. “But I'm going to sober you up before you hurt yourself, okay?” He points to the bar that's just a few steps away. “I'll be right there.”

“Boo!! Party pooper!”

Zoro runs a hand over his face. He doesn't mind babysitting you at all. But he needs to keep his fucking heart in check. It doesn’t help that Robin was right. 

He fell first.

He fell harder.

He just doesn’t know if you fell too… 

-*-

You didn’t know being on a ship could feel so dizzying. But it’s as if the boat is shaking harder with every step you take. 

It can't be all the drinks you've had, can it? How many have you had? It's hard to keep count when Nami keeps shoving them into your hand. 

She said something about liquid courage, right? What did you need that for, anyway? 

With a heavy sigh, you watch Zoro leaning against the bar to ask for a water bottle. It had something to do with that green-haired doofus who makes your heart go wild. You're sure about that. 

“Hey, gorgeous. Can we finish our dance?” Rob Lucci, one of Franky’s coworkers who you’ve met earlier sits near you, wearing a lopsided smirk, and you raise your brow. What does he mean by ‘finish your dance’? You were dancing with Nami… 

“Beat it.” Zoro's grunt saves you from any kind of answer, but Lucci simply scowls at him. You can see Zoro's jaw twitching, and you realise how handsome he really is. “Scram, man, leave.”

Lucci stares at you one more time, but seeing as you don't say anything to keep him there, he calls it quits and disappears just as Zoro hands you the bottle and sits next to you, muttering something you can't discern through his teeth. 

“Drink.” He orders you, and you squint your eyes, trying to look menacing. 

“You're not the boss of me.”

A heavy sigh parts his lips as he closes his eye to keep it from twitching in annoyance. “Can you please drink some water?”

Your smirk gets lost against the rim of the bottle as you comply. After a few sips, you set the bottle aside, your smirk still in place. 

“You know what I've just realised?” Zoro opens his mouth to answer but you don't even let him. “You're a really handsome man.” Zoro's reaction is priceless. The tips of his ears turn pink as he opens and closes his mouth, at a loss for words, for once. “Look at that jawline… and your piercing eye? What the hell happened to the other one? You didn't have that scar when I left…” 

Once more, he opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him. “Hey! I'm not complaining, it gives you a dangerous look. Unattainable. Scary. Like… Like a big dog.” You smirk at his dumbfounded expression. “All bark and no bite, though. Like a… Golden Retriever! Oh, no. Those are cute…”

“Oi, Trouble, I'm only going to let this slide because you're wasted.” Zoro's ears are still red, and the way he's getting flustered is fuel to your fire. 

“I am.” A devious giggle leaves your lips as you continue to tease him. “And look at these muscles…” His bicep feels like hard rock as you wrap your fingers around it. “So firm and…”

Shit. 

“I bet you could pin me easily.” 

Shit. You should just stop. 

Zoro's eye widens, and you feel his arm tremble slightly against your grip. 

“I mean… With these muscles? Imagine that, Zo, you could pin me against a wall, trap my wrists with just one hand–”

“Stop talking–”

“... and I wouldn't even be able to move a muscle. You could press yourself against me and–”

“Trouble, stop talking.”

You should. Where's your filter? 

“... I wouldn't even be able to wiggle out of your hold, I mean, you're really strong!”

Zoro closes his eye, one hand running over his face as he takes a deep breath. 

“Are you imagining it?” Your question is innocent, but Zoro's red face confirms it without him needing to answer it. “Zoro?” He looks at you, brow furrowed in concentration, and you can almost see how he's trying to focus his gaze in your eyes and not on your lips. “Kiss me.”

Shit.

-*-

You're trying to kill him. 

That's the only explanation he can come up with. Why else would you be saying these things? 

Pin you? Fuck! The way that image is now running through his head is more dizzying than any alcoholic beverage. 

“Kiss me, Zo!” You try again, and it's only proof his hearing is more than fine. It takes him a beat to find his voice, and when he does, it's raspy and affected. 

“You're drunk.”

“We've established that already. Now kiss me.” You shuffle closer to him, and he gets up abruptly, taking two steps back and leaning on the balustrade of the ship, hoping the crisp, tangy ocean air cools him down. 

“No.”

He answers, and you also get up, swaying on your unsteady legs and sauntering over to him, reaching your hands against his chest to steady yourself. 

A groan leaves his lips as his hand instinctively holds you by the waist to help you stand still. 

“Zo…” 

“Trouble…”

You lock eyes with him for a second before he feels your fingers probing his chest muscles. 

“I mean… They feel rock hard! How do you do this?”

Zoro sighs. Fuck. He's barely holding on to his sanity as it is. 

“I work out. You should drink more water.”

“No. Kiss me.”

“You're drunk.”

You stamp your foot against the deck, and that gesture should be childish and immature, not cute! 

“I know! Kiss me.” The way you dig your nails against his chest through his shirt makes his brain consider how they would feel running across his naked skin. So, he closes his eye and takes a deep, steadying breath. 

“You'll regret it in the morning. You're drunk.”

Has he said that enough? 

“Someone very wise once said that drunken words are sober thoughts.” You quip at him with a very proud smile and a hand landing on your hips. 

His lip twitches upwards, and he lets out a small chuckle. “Nami says that.”

“You can't deny she's wise beyond her years.” You smirk, and he chuckles harder. 

Then someone bumps into you and you stumble against Zoro, who steadies you and tries to scowl at the asshole who wasn't careful but he's long gone. And now you're staring right at his lips, a wistful look in your eyes. 

“Kiss me.”

He wants to say no. He should say no. You're drunk. You'll both regret it if your first kiss happens like this. 

But it's so tempting. 

Just say no, idiot. 

“I'll kiss you when you sober up.” 

Close enough. 

“But I want it now.”

Fuck.

“What's going on, here?” Nami's mischievous voice comes out like a lifeline on Zoro's sinking ship.

“Oh, thank God!” He groans.

“Zoro is being mean!” You pout, and Nami laughs. “He doesn't want to kiss me!”

Is there a shovel that Zoro can use to dig a hole in the ground? Would Franky be too upset if he broke a few boards to just… disappear? 

“He doesn't want to kiss you?” Nami gives him the stink-eye, though laced with heavy amusement, and Zoro lets out a low growl. 

“She's drunk.”

“Drunken words are sober thoughts!” Nami quips back, and you gasp, holding her arm and pointing at Zoro in accusation. 

“That's what I told him! And he still won't kiss me!”

Nami laces one arm with yours and tugs you to her side, the curve of her lips lifting upwards while she stares at Zoro. 

“It's alright, sweetie. If big, bad, meanie Zoro won't kiss you, I'm sure we can find someone who will.” What the hell is Nami playing at? “I know Sanji is all gentlemanly-like, but we can see if he kisses you, how about that?”

The low growl that leaves Zoro's lips sounds foreign, even to him. But the thought of the cook, no, the thought of any other man daring to kiss you is enough to make him seethe. His grip on your waist tightens, and he pulls you closer. 

“She's fine right here.” He warns Nami, trying to convey that her joke is not funny with his actions alone. 

“But she wants a kiss, Zoro.”

“Leave it, Witch.”

“I don't want Sanji's kiss, though, I want Zoro's.” Zoro will not admit to anyone how your words made warmth spread through his chest, but he's sure Nami can see the faint tinge of pink on his cheeks and ears, judging from the way she cackles. 

“I know, sweetie, I know you do.” She shoves another water bottle in your hand and giggles, clearly a bit inebriated herself. “Keep drinking this, then. The liquid courage worked, now sober up and the grumpy man will give you that kiss.”

What the hell is Nami talking about?

“Everyone, look up in the sky!”

-*-

All the urge to get kissed by Zoro vanishes with Usopp’s plea. Turning your head upwards and fighting vertigo, you witness in awe as a different array of fireworks explodes in the sky, casting bright colours above the ship. 

“Zo…” You whisper, hoping he's finding the view as magnificent as you are. “Are you seeing this?”

“Yes, Trouble, it's… beautiful.”

You don't quite know why his voice sounds so raw and vulnerable, but the one second you take your eyes away from the sky, you swear you find him staring at you before looking back up. 

But another loud bang distracts your thoughts, and you pat your pocket to try and find your phone. 

“It really is. I need a video of this.” You can't find your phone anywhere, you're sure you placed it in your pocket… Maybe the other one? 

Nothing. 

Then someone bumps into you again, making you hit the balustrade with a small yelp. You hear Zoro grumble and yell at the person who hit you, but he decides to check on you instead of following them. 

Another beautiful blast in the sky steals your attention, and this time you do find your phone. In the exact pocket you were searching for it. 

Strange. 

Or not, since you're absolutely wasted. 

You finally get your video. Zoro hovers near you because you keep leaning on the railing to try and get a good angle, and you're pretty sure you're giving him a small apoplexy every time you do that. 

Afterwards, you keep sipping your water, but Nami drags you to more dancing and partying, though you notice Zoro still watching your every move, probably making sure you don’t hurt yourself, nothing else.  

After a while, you gravitate towards him again, a smile plastered on your lips and still with a sway to your step. You're still drunk. 

But before you say anything, Lucci, who was dancing near you again, follows you, grabbing you by the upper arm to turn you towards him. You sway more than you should and register a low growl behind you before he smiles at you. 

“Hey, gorgeous, want to grab a few more drinks now? I hear this ship’s got some bunks somewhere, maybe we–”

“I thought I told you to scram, Lucci. She's taken.”

You feel heat blooming in your cheeks as Zoro's gravelly voice rings near your ears. His hand rests on your waist as he pulls you back towards him, and you feel Rob Lucci's fingers lose their grip around your arm. 

“Woah, man, sorry, I didn't know. Thought you were just friends...” Zoro mumbles something between his breath as Lucci retreats, though his fingers still grip you tightly. 

“Taken?” You grin, turning around to face him with a raised brow, your hands finding purchase against his forearms. 

“Well, yeah.” Zoro looks away from your eyes, and you see his throat bobbing up and down. “Figured it was the fastest way to send him on his way.”

“Oh, so it was mere convenience?”

Zoro opens and closes his mouth, but then a giggle escapes your lips as you sway some more, gripping him tightly. 

“You're still drunk, so yeah, we can call it convenience.”

“You're so grumpy, Officer.” He sighs and shoves another water bottle in your hands. “Ohhhh, do you have your handcuffs with you?” A mischievous grin splits your lips and Zoro grabs hold of Robin's arm, who happens to be strolling by. 

“Nico, take over. I can't deal with this conversation right now.” He says, exasperated as you open your mouth in shock. 

“Heeeeey! Come on, Zo, I was just teasing!”

But he's already asking Robin to keep an eye on you as he disappears into the crowd.

“What did you tell him? What scared off Roronoa Zoro?” She asks, amused, and you chuckle but don't answer. Maybe your filter is returning? 

-*-

The party lasts long into the middle of the night, and by the time the ship docks, you're already sobered up, though your steps are still wobbly and uncoordinated. Zoro offers to take you home, since you rode with Robin, and you just nod at him, too mortified to try and utter a full sentence his way. 

Maybe he won't bring up the way you blatantly threw yourself at him. Is it too much to ask? 

But it doesn't take him five minutes into the drive to start chuckling. You don't ask why he's amused, you know better than to walk right into that trap, yet he doesn't really wait for your curiosity to kick in. 

“Why so quiet, Trouble? Are you reconsidering your life choices? Maybe silently vowing never to drink again? Or maybe to stop listening to Nami's advice?”

A groan is all you allow before you hide your face behind your hands. Yet, he's relentless in his teasing. 

“You're a really handsome man, look at that jawline.” His impression of you is anything but accurate, yet it's enough to make your stomach churn. So you really said that to him, it wasn't just your imagination! 

“Kiss me, Zo.” 

Oh, God, that too? A desperate whine is all the sound you manage to make while wishing to disappear into the car seat. 

“But my favourite? You could pin me easily.” He lets out another chuckle. “I wasn't expecting that, Trouble.”

“Please, please stop, Zoro. I'll never drink again, I swear.”

“Oh, I doubt that very much.” And then he laughs. A real laugh. 

That is enough to make you leave the safety of your hands and stare at him, his lips still curled back, brows slightly scrunched, and an easy expression on his face. 

“Was that a laugh?”

“What do you mean? I laugh all the time.”

Shaking your head, you turn fully to him, all previous mortification forgotten. “No. You chuckle, you smirk, and sometimes you snicker. You don't laugh.”

Silence surrounds you as he enters your driveway and parks the car in front of your porch. Then he makes eye contact with you, the semblance of a snicker still ghosting his lips. “Guess now I do.”

You barely have time to register what that could mean before you both exit the car. You're embarrassed at how Zoro has to steady you as you climb the steps because the world is still spinning, but at least you're of sound mind again, so no stupid words will leave your mouth now. 

“Are you regretting the way you behaved, Trouble?”

You stop in front of your door, one hand playing with your keys as you take a deep breath. 

“No. Not all of it, at least. Drunken words really are sober thoughts, I guess.” You whisper, making sure your eyes are locked with his and trying to ignore how your heart is thrumming against your chest.

“All of them?” Zoro's tone carries mischievousness in it, and you bite your lip to stifle a smirk. 

“Yes.”

He takes a step forward, his hand brushing lightly against your waist, a place he touched so many times tonight, but not once did it burn like now. 

“Are you sober now?” He lowers his voice as his eye lingers on your lips. 

“I am.”

“Good.” Zoro leans in, head tilting slightly to the side. “Because I'm going to kiss you.”

You barely have time to let out a gasp before his lips touch yours. Your eyelids flutter shut, and just as you're about to reach for his neck and deepen the kiss–

Beep, beep, beep… 

Your phone alarm starts blaring in your pocket, an obnoxious sound that disrupts the night - and the moment - making you both groan as you fall apart. 

“Are you kidding me?” Zoro grumbles, though without any real bite to his words, and you fumble with the device, trying to make the annoying sound stop. 

You finally manage to silence it, and you giggle nervously. “I'm sorry! I didn't set any alarm, my alarm sound isn't even this obnoxious, I don't know what happened and–”

Zoro tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, a devious smirk on his lips as he leans down again. “Let's try this again, shall we?”

Your stomach flips, and butterflies take flight as your heart skips a beat. 

But just as your lips brush together, his phone starts ringing. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He complains taking the phone out of his pocket, a frown on his lips as he sees the name. “It's the station, I need to answer this.” Then you witness his expression somber as he paces back a little. 

Just like that, you know your moment is over, so you sigh as Zoro hangs up the call. 

“It's an emergency at the station. I have to go.” You can actually see the annoyance in his face and the slight tinge of dissatisfaction in his eyes. 

“Maybe we can finish this another night?” Perhaps there’s still some alcohol lingering in your blood, because that was very bold of you. 

Zoro is already skipping down the steps, two at a time, but he stops near his car, leaning on the open door and smirking at you in the most devious way you’ve ever seen him.

“Trust me, Trouble, next time I won’t stop. Even if the world is ending.”

You’re still smiling giddily at his words when you enter your home and lock the door. You can’t wait for what happens next.

-*-

Zoro lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. Setting his phone in its holder, he dials Captain Mihawk’s number and sets it to speaker.

“Roronoa.” Mihawk’s gravelly voice answers after one ring.

“Someone took out his eyes? What the fuck?” Zoro still can’t believe what he heard earlier.

“We don’t know much yet. They had to perform urgent surgery on him. We’ll know more when he wakes up.”

Zoro’s foot presses down on the pedal, still riding under the limit, but barely. “What kind of sick fuck would do that?”

“We don’t know. But there’s a possibility you saw him tonight. After all, it happened at your friend’s boat party.”

Fuck.

“Where’d you find him?”

“A dock worker found him. Wrists bound, eye sockets empty, in shock.” Mihawk’s voice is curt and methodical, a voice of someone accustomed to gruelling murders and grizzly stories. After all, he’d spent far too long in the big city and seen too much.

“Anything else?”

“A note.” A clue. “Pinned to his chest with a nail. It said: ‘She’s mine.’ Nothing else. We’re still running it for prints or other evidence. Sounds like a crime of passion, jealousy, possession, perhaps?”

Zoro’s teeth grind together. Something feels fishy about all of this. Something he can’t quite put his finger on. A crime of passion seems far too simple…

“Sounds like it. I’m about to pull up, talk soon.”

His heart constricts as he thinks of you. It might be just a coincidence, it has to be just a coincidence… What are the odds, really? What happened can’t have anything to do with you… Still…

After spending the night following you around like a puppy, Rob Lucci is found hurt, maimed, with his eyeballs missing?

Zoro releases a heavy sigh and shakes his head again. Maybe he’s reading too much into everything. You’re safe. And he’ll make sure you stay that way.

That’s all there is to it.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22

[moeswriting]

daylight | 1. black and white

pairing: no-outbreak!sheriff!joel miller x f!pregnant!reader

chapter summary: It was supposed to be a normal day. What happened to his normal damn day?

warnings: implied abuse (reader), implied parental neglect (reader), implied character death, descriptions of injuries on a pregnant woman (reader), descriptions of grief, age gap (joel is 48 and reader is 28), a little bit of a slow burn, reader is pregnant, eventual POV swapping but this time it’s all joel, small town gossip, this small town does not apply HIPAA because they’re borderline feral

word count: 7.8k

a/n: welcome to the very first chapter of daylight!!! this chapter is very joel-heavy, but i promise that next chapter we’ll get more of a glance into reader’s brain and what the hell is going on with her. next chapter should be up sometime in the next couple weeks (but obviously with my track record, who knows).

series masterlist | next chapter ->

read on ao3

“Ellie! What’re you doin’? You’re gonna be late for school!”

It’s 7:58. She should already be at school, but she’s not. He can’t even remember the last time that she was on time for school.

He takes a sip of coffee from his green mug with a picture of a little mug in front of a striped wall holding a placard that reads “MUGSHOT”– a gift from Ellie for his last birthday. He loves coffee. October is perfect weather for it. The revitalizing liquid warms up his frozen fingers through the ceramic and slides down his throat like heaven. He loves coffee.

Footsteps pound down the hallway and all he sees of his teenager is a blur of green plaid as she rushes past the entryway to the kitchen and to the front door.

“Hi Joel! Bye Joel,” she yells, hand popping into his view with a wave and quickly disappearing.

“Hey! Get back in here right now,” he shouts.

“What,” she pants, coming back to the entryway with one shoe on and the other dangling by the laces from her mouth, her tawny hair in a floppy, loose ponytail. Good god, he has no idea how this child has no manners at all. He knows she was not raised like this. Sixteen-year-olds should know not to put shoelaces in their mouths.

But all he does is grumble like he always does because it’s too damn early in the morning and he doesn’t want to argue with her when he’s this damn tired. He can’t think when it’s this early. “Take a poptart please. I don’t want people thinkin’ I starve you.”

She throws her hands up in the air and snatches the silver package off the table. “Okay, Jesus!”

Ellie already has her other shoe on before Joel can even blink. He hears the telltale squeak of the front door opening.

“Have a good day at school!”

“Whatever, Joel!”

And then the door slams shut, the cold October wind rushing its way in behind her.

He takes another sip of his coffee. If he gets another call from the principal lecturing him about Ellie’s tardiness, he might lose his mind. He cannot stand the sound of that man’s voice in his ear– it’s like nails on a chalkboard or the sound of a fork scraping on someone’s teeth. He just wants a normal day with no emergencies or stupid antics from his teenager.

He finishes his coffee off, rinses his cup out, and places it in the sink. 

A normal fucking day.

When he walks into the sheriff’s office, he is greeted by Mary– the nice old lady who works the front desk. Her graying hair is pinned up into curls like she came right out of the 50s and she’s wearing a simple blue dress that compliments her maternal curves with a flair.

“Morning, Sheriff!”

He gives her a polite smile like he does every morning. “Mornin’, Mary. How’s the family?”

“Good! Earl is getting a promotion tomorrow! He’s gonna be the manager over at the hardware store.”

“Oh, that’s great! Tell Earl I said congrats.”

“I will, Sheriff.”

He makes his way to his office, which is all the way at the back of the department to avoid talking to people as much as possible. He passes multiple people along his way back, the woman who keeps track of their files, one of the three beat cops in town, who he greets mildly. He passes his brother’s desk, which is empty save for the steaming mug of tea sitting on his “World’s Best Dad” coaster. He’s somewhere around here.

And, of course, as Tommy often does, he has invaded Joel’s space.

Joel leans against the entryway to his office and clears his throat.

Tommy’s sitting at Joel’s desk with his feet propped up and a hand over his eyes. For a second, he’s almost convinced that he’s asleep, but after a second of impatiently waiting, Tommy speaks up.

“Bill called.”

Jackson, Wyoming is too small for its own good. You can walk from one end of town to the other in thirty minutes or less, and everyone knows everyone and every bit of each other’s business whether they like it or not. Being the sheriff in a small town is easy in most respects– nobody’s getting murdered and there’s hardly ever any robberies– but when it came to Bill Brown, there were times he wished he hadn’t rallied for this job so hard.

Joel sighs and walks into the room, “Why?” He picks his stetson up off his head and smacks it onto his desk beside Tommy’s feet which makes him jump and place a hand over his heart dramatically.

Tommy shrugs after he gives himself a moment to recover, wide eyes pointed at his brother, “Says a ‘dangerous’ woman broke into his property.”

That could mean any number of things with Bill: it could mean that there really is a dangerous woman on his property, it could mean that a woman was walking their dog too closely to his yard, it could mean that a saleswoman knocked on his door to sell him solar panels. Bill is beyond paranoid, but Tommy sitting on his ass, not responding to his call probably means it’s nothing. He’ll check anyway, because if he doesn’t, Bill will come to the station later to get on his ass about it.

“Which property?”

“Old Betty’s place.”

What would anyone want to do with Betty’s house? She didn’t leave anything important laying in that house. It was just a glorified grandmother-themed Ikea after her lawyer had distributed all the things she had left in her will.

“Okay. I guess I’ll go see what’s up.”

The drive over to Betty’s is familiar. The gravel road that knocks his truck around winds him through the dense forest that surrounds the land that Betty Loving called home her entire life. The trees are a mesmerizing mix of reds, oranges, yellows, and greens that come together to highlight the tiny, white cottage that sits on top of the wooded hill.

Without thinking, he knocks the secret rhythm that only a few know onto the tall, white door. He’s stood here on this porch more times than he can count, but in the last few years, he’s avoided even thinking about it. It’s just not the same.

He’s pulled into the house by the collar of his brown button-up with a quick force.

“Bill, what the hell is wrong with–”

“Shhh!” Bill puts a finger up to his lips, scraggly mustache parted by his pudgy finger. 

Said finger points towards Betty’s bedroom at the end of the hall, the one with the pink floral wreath on it that reads, “Elizabeth” in curly script.

Oh god, maybe something really is wrong. He didn’t notice the front door being jammed in any way, nor does he see any damage in his peripheral, but maybe the damage was contained to her room. He really hopes that she didn’t break any of Betty’s trinkets.

“She in there?”

Bill nods his head adamantly, eyes wide.

Joel sighs out his nerves and puts on a brave face. He has to be ready for whatever he’s about to see in there. All he knows is that there is a trespasser that could be dangerous, he’s not sure. He can’t hear anything, in fact it’s eerily quiet.

He pulls out his gun from its holster on his hip. He rarely does it– it’s mostly just a prop to scare drunks from acting too crazy at the bar or one of his fellow officers from being too violent with their own weapons. The metal of the gun lays familiar in his shaking hands.

He pads down the carpeted hall with a practiced patience, boots softly scraping the tops of the fibers. Even as he approaches the door, he still can’t hear anything. Maybe his knock scared them off?

Placing his hand on the cold doorknob, he can feel wind blowing through the bottom crack of the door. Weird, considering it was 50 degrees this morning. She must have gotten through the window. He opens the door.

Laying on Betty’s frilly bedding is a young woman, probably late twenties or early thirties. Your eye is swollen and a dark shade of purple, but it’s fading into yellow around the edges. You’re wearing a long tan coat and a gray sweater dress that shows off the obvious curve of your stomach, hair splayed out underneath you in a halo. What he can see of your fingers and legs are covered in bruises and small cuts of their own. You look like a renaissance painting, splayed out over the bed like a star with your high-heeled boots dangling off the side– it’s almost Biblical paired with how tormented you look, eyebrows pulled together and mouth downturned into a frown even in your sleep.

He holsters his gun and pinches his brow with a heavy sigh.

“Jesus Christ, Bill– that’s an injured, pregnant woman. She’s not a danger to anyone.”

Bill grumbles an unintelligible response.

Another sigh tumbles out of Joel’s mouth, “Did you try to talk to her?”

“No.” Bill crosses his arms and huffs like a child being told off for hitting their sibling.

The wind blows into the room and causes Joel to shiver, fingers weaving together in front of him in an effort to gain some warmth.

“So, you just assumed that she was a danger based on… what?”

“She broke into my house!” He punctuates his stage-whisper by throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Bill, you are ridiculous.”

All he does is huff, the bristles of his mustache fly up with the breeze his breath makes.

Joel mutters a curse under his breath and stalks his way to the end of the bed.

“Ma’am? Ma’am?”

Your eyes flash open and he watches your pupils dilate as the bright light offends them. He hates to think it or even put it out into the universe, but your eyes are beautiful. They compliment your features in a way that makes his heart stop in his chest. 

Before Joel even has a chance to react, you’re up and as far from him as you can be, huddled against the metal headboard. Your boots leave behind a muddy stain on the white sheets as you clamber away from him.

He can see you wince in pain with the effort. It’s then that he notices the circle of blood you’ve left on the bedding where you were laying. It’s soaked into the white, turning it a dark maroon that slowly fades to pink around the edges. He can tell it’s fresh from the way the stain expands itself.

Jesus Christ.

“Woah, woah now, darlin’. Ain’t nobody here to hurt ya.”

Eyebrows crease together, you raise a hand up to signal him to stop.

Your voice comes out in a husky whisper, upper lip snarled, “Get away from me.”

He takes a step back and puts his hands up in mock surrender. He can tell you’re not going to hurt him, nor would you be capable of it, probably, but he wants to keep you calm and if backing up is gonna keep you calm, he’s willing to do it.

“You’re hurt,” he points out with a finger pointed down to the blood.

You chance a quick glance down to where he points, like you’re afraid that if you don’t look at him for two seconds that he’ll get the jump on you. He supposes he could. 

As if you can read his mind, you look back up at him with a piercing scowl.

“I’m fine,” you reply, voice a little clearer now.

He scoffs with an eye roll to accompany the sarcastic action, “Clearly you’re not, don’t have to act all tough. I’m Jackson’s sheriff; I can get you to the town doctor in less than ten minutes.”

Joel watches you evaluate him. Your eyes dart from one of his to the other, run down his body, and then back up to his face. He’s never felt so vulnerable just from being looked at. You soften a little.

“Really?”

He nods patiently, “Yes, ma’am. Dr. Teddy’d get you fixed up in no time.”

Your chest expands with one breath, two breaths, and then you let out a pitiful sigh.

He takes a chance by putting a hand out for you to take– a sign of good faith– and you hesitate. Your fingers twitch by your side. Suddenly, your soft palm grips his calloused one with a quiet ferocity. 

Joel helps you up and to his truck, not without a little mumble in his direction about how he better get her on trespassing, which he quickly replies to with a directed glare. Bill retreats into the kitchen to sulk.

Your wool coat is soaked with blood around the back, turning the nice tan into a dark brown. He tries his best to ignore it as he guides you up into the passenger seat. He’s going to have to clean the damn leather after he figures out what to do with you.

Hopping into his own seat, he turns the key in the ignition and turns the heat on. Out of the corner of his eye he can see you sink down into the warmth.

You’re silent the whole ride there, which he’s fine with. He’s never been good at small talk and he doesn’t think he wants to know what the hell is going on with you, your trespassing, or your excess of injuries. 

Or maybe he does. He shakes the thought out of his head. He’s going to get you examined at Teddy’s and send you on your way– he doesn’t have time for this shit. Not today. Today is supposed to be a normal day.

He parks in the one parking spot in front of the small, blue house that is the home to the practice of the one and only qualified doctor in town. 

Teddy is kind. You need someone kind, which is definitely not Joel.

He points to the building and motions with his chin to follow him. You stumble out of the car and do just that, putting most of your weight on your left leg as you walk. He offers an arm out to you, but you ignore him and push ahead.

He stomps up the porch steps behind you, kicking snow out of the tread of his boots before he steps inside.

The bell jingles loudly to signal your arrival, but he yells anyway, “Teddy!? You in here?”

A soft, raspy voice calls from the back, “One second!”

He turns to you with a, hopefully, calming smile. It feels more like a grimace than anything else on his stiff face.

“This is Doctor Theodora Taylor’s office. She’s gonna take a look at ya.”

Without warning, Teddy is next to him. Her voice makes him jump, but he tries to hide it behind a scoff. Her red-covered lips turn up into a smirk as she regards you.

“You can call me Teddy.” She holds out a hand to you. You hesitate before you grab her hand in yours for a weak handshake. He watches your muscles tense when you make contact with her, but the spasm goes away just as quickly as it came on.

Theodora Taylor is one of Joel’s only friends– her husband Jan is also included in that small number. She has thick, jet black, curly hair and skin so pale it’s a surprise to know that she goes outside at all. Her features are soft, lips always a vibrant red that makes her bright blue eyes pop. Voice raspy from a youth of defiant smoking, she is a calming force and a bright light.

“Follow me– exam room’s right over here.”

He follows behind you, because he has to. He has questions he’s supposed to ask and technically he needs to know if you need to go to court because of the trespassing, but there’s a part of him (the large majority, if he’s honest with himself) that just wants to send you to wherever you belong and leave you be. Bill can be convinced to drop the charges some way or another.

Teddy gives him no attention after her initial questioning of the situation and neither do you, surprisingly, as he plops down in one of the squeaky, teal, pleather chairs usually reserved for parents or significant others. It’s uncomfortably cold under his blue jeans. He’s sat in this chair a couple times before– one time when Ellie broke her leg a few years ago when she first started living with him, and a few times before and after that to evaluate drunks from the bar after they got into slurred fights resulting in, usually, minor injuries.

He watches Teddy go through the motions of listening to your lungs and taking your blood pressure. Joel isn’t a doctor, never claimed to be, so he doesn’t fully understand what’s going on, but she doesn’t look overly concerned as she peels the coat off your back and pulls your shirt up in the back to examine whatever injury is back there.

But when she puts a little too much pressure on your right leg, your whole body tightens and you gasp.

“Woah, what’s going on? I hurt you?”

You pause, evaluate (which he has quickly identified as a habit of yours), and pull your dress up higher on your thigh to reveal a nasty bruise that he hadn’t seen before. Black mixed with purple and dark hues of red over the entirety of your upper thigh. He has to stop himself from letting out the gasp that’s constricting the back of his throat.

Teddy’s dark eyebrows furrow for a split second before she cools her expression and looks up at you with gentle eyes.

“I’m sorry, hon, but I have to ask– where did those bruises come from?”

He watches your eyes flicker up to him and back down to your lap. Teddy takes the obvious hint, and so does he.

Something is very wrong.

“Joel, could you step out, please?”

He nods and pushes up out of the chair, “Yeah, ‘course.”

A grateful expression flashes over your face that he only catches for a second as he shuts the door behind him.

He knows he should be in there technically, to continue his evaluation, but it feels wrong to listen to you be vulnerable. He’s never really had a problem with it before– the child growing in you is probably the reason he feels the need to hide. Pregnant women make him think of her.

A few minutes pass as he sits in the quiet lobby– no one around to bother him or quiet his rampant thoughts. Just him, the open air with a distinct smell of hand sanitizer, and the muffled sounds of cars driving past.

He can see Teddy talking to you through the glass window on the top half of the door, that’s usually covered by a curtain, but it needs to be open in case you really are a danger to yourself or Teddy and she needs help restraining you. You look ashamed, embarrassed. Teddy just looks back at you while you talk, no emotions flashing over her face– just simply taking the information in. He wonders if it’s to keep you calm.

The front door slams open. The little bell attached to it slaps into the wood aggressively.

Maria almost sprints into the building; she looks disheveled, braids pulled back into a makeshift ponytail with a rubber band, eyes wide in a panic, still wearing her pink, flannel pyjama pants.

When she spots Joel sitting in one of the many chairs strewn in random places around the room, she lets out a puff of air and hunches over with her hands on her knees.

“Hey, we just heard–”

He nods and points to the windowed door, “Yeah, Teddy’s in there talking to her now.”

Tommy follows behind her. He looks just as out-of-breath as his wife from running after her.

“Why the fuck did we run here? Jesus Christ,” Tommy mutters to himself, pulling a hand through his hair while the other holds his tan stetson to his chest.

She clears her throat, ignoring Tommy as he walks in and keeping her attention on Joel, “How injured is she?”

“Not sure. She was walking fine, but her legs, Maria– they were covered in cuts and bruises.”

“Oh god,” she sighs and rubs a hand down her face, “Okay, I’ll go in there and talk to her. You two stay out here.”

They nod their heads to her like the loyal guard dogs they are.

Tommy flops his ass down in the chair next to Joel’s, slaps him on the thigh, and spreads his legs like a cowboy. Joel’s posture is ramrod straight, fingers intertwined in his lap. He can’t stop himself from bouncing his knee– the nervous energy in his brain spreading throughout his body. He is Tommy’s opposite as always. 

They watch the three of you through the small window cut out of the door. He can visibly see you calm down as Maria speaks to you in her usual confident and calming tone.

Tommy crosses his arms with a scowl on his face, “I recognize her.”

“How?”

“I– I’m not sure.”

Joel examines you for a second. You look upper class based on your outfit alone– expensive wool coat, gold jewelry. But those sad eyes– he could spot those sad eyes anywhere. He feels like a fool for not noticing it earlier.

“Betty’s funeral.”

Tommy points a finger at him, a grin spreading across his stubbled cheeks. “Yes! Yes, that’s it. She gave that speech.”

“She’s Betty’s granddaughter.”

A chill runs down his spine and all the way down to his toes.

Tommy slaps his knee in some show of triumph, “Oh man, that explains why she was at the cottage.”

Joel looks over at you again. He thinks he can see your eyes starting to water, so he shifts his gaze back over to his brother. He can’t bear to see your vulnerability; not like this, not again.

“Yeah… it does.”

Maria steps back out of the room and shuts the door behind her soft and slowly.

“Joel. I need to talk to you really quickly.”

She’s got that look, pinched eyebrows and lips downturned: the guilty look she gets when she asks him to watch their son, Benny.

“What? Is it a secret?”

She turns to Tommy with a glare, “Shut up, Thomas.”

Tommy throws his hands up in the air and widens his eyes in exaggeration.

Maria turns back to Joel, a disgruntled scowl covering her face. She and Tommy love each other– have for more years than he’s even lived here– but Tommy is the King of Maria’s annoyance. He knows just how to push her buttons, the ones that Joel wouldn’t dare to go near.

Joel nods, and follows her out to the porch. It’s cold, too cold to be outside.

“What,” he deadpans. Get it over with, he wants to spit out.

“I need you to take her in.”

No.

“Excuse me,” Joel blurts out, his mouth five steps ahead of his brain in shock.

Maria places her hands on her hips and rolls her deep brown eyes. Even in pyjama pants, she’s intimidating. 

“Joel, I highly doubt she will be any trouble to you. You’re barely home anyway.”

He can’t picture you in his space with your sullen expression and hollow eyes. The idea of anyone besides him or his family in his home makes him want to cringe.

“I’ve already got my hands full with Ellie. I don’t think taking on a huge responsibility like this is really in my job description.”

And, boy, does that ruffle Maria’s feathers. Her face drops even further than before.

“This ‘responsibility’ is a pregnant woman with no family, no home, and no job who needs immediate bedrest. She is extremely fragile right now and it’s best for her and her baby if she can keep her in to term. She just needs a place to relax, read a book, do some light chores– she’s not a teenage girl, she’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.

“And I don’t want to mention this, but I feel that I have to: she’s Betty’s granddaughter. You’re really not gonna give her and Betty’s great-granddaughter the best chance they have of living? After all she did for you?”

She gives him a pointed look; they both know she’s right. Her brutal honesty makes him uncomfortable, makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention.

Joel sighs, “Maria…”

Suddenly, he watches guilt take over her features again. “I know; I’m sorry. I just need you to really think before you say no to that woman in there.”

“I’m not… ‘m not saying no, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

She shakes her head and puffs out a breath of frustration, “Why?”

He doesn’t really know why. Call it a gut feeling, call it intuition, call it whatever you want– he doesn’t know why it’s a bad idea. He just does.

“I don’t know.”

Maria’s shoulders sag. “Just do it. Please.”

He feels himself giving in before he can even say the words. He folds like a cheap suit.

Hands held in the air in surrender, he replies, “Fine. Fine, okay.”

“Thank you,” she sighs out exasperatedly.

“Couldn’t I just… couldn’t I go live in my grandma’s house? Then I wouldn’t have to be anybody’s problem.”

Teddy shakes her head, a strand of her curly hair falling into her face, “Betty’s place is way too far from here. You need to be as close as possible to the clinic with how high-risk your pregnancy is. Joel lives two houses down from here and he has an extra bedroom. You wouldn’t be any kind of problem for him anyway.”

He shakes his head, “You wouldn’t be.”

He can tell you’re conflicted. Your eyes flit from his face, to Tommy’s, to Teddy’s, Maria’s, and then back to his. There’s a hint of something there in your irises– something that makes his skin crawl with the memory of when his own eyes looked as dull as yours. Grief. For what exactly, he doesn’t know, but it’s there.

“Okay,” you mumble, eyes going to your lap where your fingers are picking at your cuticles.

What has he gotten himself into?

“Okay,” Maria exclaims, “Good. Let’s let Teddy finish her exam– Joel, you stay with her until she’s done?”

He nods.

“Alright, let’s go, deputy.”

She waves a hand for Tommy to follow her.

His brother turns to you with an overly-confident smile and chuckles, “She’s embarrassed that if she admits she likes me that people might find out she has emotions. We’re married, y’know? You’d think people would’ve found out she’s not a robot by now.”

A small smile takes over your lips, barely reaching your eyes. There’s Tommy doing what he’s always been naturally good at– talking to people, making them feel comfortable and relaxed.

“Tommy,” Maria shouts from the entryway.

“Coming, wife!”

Joel doesn’t even have to see her to know that she’s rolling her eyes into the back of her head. She loves him to death, and so does he, but he’s always been a bit of a handful.

Teddy shakes her head amusedly as she listens to the tell-tale sound of the front door closing behind them.

She turns back to the room, with you in tow.

It’s another 20 minutes before Teddy comes back, but she’s alone. You’ve been left in the exam room by yourself.

Teddy flops into the chair next to him and lets out a heaving breath.

“She’s got a pretty large cut on her back that’s going to need the bandage changed at least once every day. So, I’ll be there every day around noon to change it until it’s healed, but if she starts to bleed through it, I’m gonna need you to help her do it. I assume you can do that?”

“Yeah.”

“She can walk on her own, but she just needs to keep that leg elevated and iced as much as possible– give it a couple weeks to heal up. Just keep an eye on her for me.”

“Okay.”

There’s an awkward pause. She won’t look at him, just stares off towards the large bay window that overlooks the snow-covered trees in front of them.

“Did she tell you what happened?”

She nods. Her face is emotionless. “Yes.”

“Do I get to know?”

Teddy purses her lips and shakes her head, “Not unless she tells you.”

Licking his lips, he nods back, “Okay.”

He tastes blood when he bites down on his bottom lip to rip a piece of dead, dry skin off. His tongue runs over the wound left behind– smooth, raw. He relishes the taste of the aftermath of his pain.

She looks over at him. “And, Joel?”

“Yeah?”

Her cool expression is replaced by concern– heavy, devastated concern. 

She lets out a long breath and mutters back to him, “Please be patient with her.”

“Yup.”

Joel cannot handle this conversation anymore. He needs to get out of here before he explodes. In what? Anger? Remorse? Pity? He doesn’t care; getting out of here is what he needs and he needs it now.

Pushing himself up makes his knees crack with the effort. The oncoming winter always makes him feel his age more than anything. He masks his pain as he always does with a practiced cough and a slap to the side of his thigh.

“Whelp, gonna get outta your hair, Teddy. Tell Di I said ‘hey’.”

She looks equally relieved to be ending this conversation with him, even more so with the mention of her toddler.

“I will. She misses you; you should come visit soon.”

“I’ll try.”

He probably won’t.

WIth a quick side hug and a goodbye from Teddy, he walks out of the waiting area and to where you’re sitting in the exam room.

“Let’s go,” he states, pointing a finger towards the front door.

He doesn’t wait around for you to follow. You catch up.

Once you get to the porch, you begin talking to him quietly, “You know, you really don’t have to do this.”

You’re shivering aggressively, whether it’s the cold or the effort it takes you to talk to him, he doesn’t know. He’s just realized that you left your bloody coat behind in the exam room.

He shucks off his duck jacket and holds it out to you. You stare down at his hand like it’s going to bite you and shake your head reluctantly.

“Well, Mayor says I gotta, so seems like I don’t really have much of a choice, do I,” he replies with a huff, walking down to the bottom of the porch steps before your voice stops him.

“You could’ve said ‘no’.”

Your face is stoic, but he can see the apology in your eyes. They’re very expressive, like you can’t help that you wear your heart in them. He wonders if you even know.

He shakes his head, “She's my sister-in-law, I could not have said no.”

No response comes from you as you pick up your aching feet and creep your way down the steps. Joel offers to help, but you sigh and send a glare in his direction. He backs off.

When you’re at his side finally, he points at his house– two houses down and across the street. It’s a small thing– but it works for him and Ellie, who spends most of her time in the garage anyways. He’s always wanted to paint the light grey-blue siding something more neutral, but he just never has the time nor the energy and there’s no way in hell he’ll hire someone else to do it. Someday.

You fall into step beside him, heels of your boots clacking on the cracking concrete of the sidewalk.

The sweater dress you’re wearing looks comfortable, but the tights don’t look very warm and the large stain on the back of it must be freezing. His house is right there; he’ll let you borrow something of his while he goes to grab your bags from Betty’s.

You speak up again, arms crossed and hands shoved into your armpits.

“Tommy's your brother?”

“Yup.”

“Apple fell very far from the tree.”

He huffs, “Not really a talker.”

“No shit.”

You’re being brave. He can tell you’re nervous, but you’re trying your best to hold a conversation and that’s pretty fucking brave to him.

“Thank you,” you mutter through an exhale. Your breath is visible in the early morning air.

“Don’t gotta thank me. Just doin’ my job.”

“Thank you for doing your job, then.”

He doesn’t like being thanked. It makes him uncomfortable, rattles his bones. But he’s not going to ignore you when you’re being vulnerable– that would make him even more uncomfortable.

“No problem.”

A high-pitched voice screams across the road, “Joel!”

You both watch as Ellie runs down the street, her arms waving above her head like a lunatic, sneakers screeching because of the drag of her feet. The child has no decorum or manners. 

He drops his forehead into his hand.

When she gets to the two of you, she leans over with both hands on her bent knees, breathing heavily. She takes a moment to recover. Joel spares a glance in your direction, but you’re no longer beside him. He catches a sliver of your hair as it whips behind him.

Ellie’s gonna be the death of him, probably you too if you scare this easily.

“Can I go over to Dina’s?”

His hands settle on his hips in his most “I’m not fucking around” pose, “No, kid. I gotta talk to you about somethin’. Go home.”

“What? Dude!”

“Don’t ‘dude’ me. Go,” he points to the house and leaves it at that.

She turns and stomps her way to the house with her arms crossed and a sour look on her face, “Ugh! Whatever, asshole.”

He loves her and he would travel to the ends of the earth for her; but it’s moments like these where sometimes he wished he was a little harder on her. Maybe she wouldn’t scream swear words in the middle of the street. He doubts it.

“Who was that?”

Joel clears his throat, “Uh, that's my kid.”

Your eyebrows furrow, expressing the most you have the entire morning, “You have a kid?”

It’s accusatory– the emphasis on the ‘you’. He can feel himself bristle with something at the accusation that he wouldn’t be capable of caring for a child. What is it about him that makes you think he wouldn’t have a kid?

You’re right. She’s not his. But he had a child. A long time ago.

He huffs through a dry chuckle, “Well, she’s not technically mine— but she lives with me and I feed her, so she’s my problem.”

“Whose is she?” Your eyes flick across the street to Ellie and then back to him.

He can’t help the sigh that leaves his lips.

“A friend’s. She passed away a few years ago and she didn’t have any family, so…”

Your face shifts with pity, forehead wrinkled and eyes wide, “Oh, I'm so sorry.”

He’s used to the pity– the stares, the muttered sorrys. He doesn’t want it from anyone, but he especially doesn’t want it from complete strangers like you.

“It’s alright. She was my daughter’s friend more than mine, but when she got sick, I agreed to take care of her kid.”

“Oh, you have a daughter?”

He feels the grief rip through his chest like he always does when someone mentions her. But you don’t know what happened like everyone else in this town does, so he’s not going to get irritable with you like he would with other people. Besides, you don’t need Joel to be an asshole to you when you’re supposed to be on bed rest.

He hesitates, “Yeah.”

Your eyes search his face– for what, he doesn’t know. But whatever you’re looking for, he thinks you’ve found it as you move the conversation on from her and onto Ellie’s frame as she slams the front door shut so loudly that the entire street can probably hear it. He thanks his face for conveying how desperately he does not want to talk with you about Sarah.

“What’s her name?” You point in the direction that the teenager went.

“Ellie.” 

He shifts his stance, ready to restart your short walk to his house when you speak up.

“She seems like a good kid.”

He lets out a breath of amusement, “She's the best. Has a very colorful vocabulary though.”

You shrug, “Eh, she’s a teenager. I was a lot worse than her at that age.”

“Oh, really?” He’s not sure if this is surprising information or not. He’s having a hard time getting a read on you– and that’s a big part of his job, to read people. It feels wrong that he can’t figure you out.

“Yeah. I could’ve won some kind of award– ‘Worst Daughter In The World’. I would’ve deserved it too,” you huff.

He hums in acknowledgement. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s ignoring you; he just doesn’t know what the hell to say to that. That you did deserve it? He wouldn’t know.

“It’s why my parents used to ship me off to my grandmother’s. ‘Grandma knows how to handle you’, they’d say. Really, I just liked her a lot more than them.”

He gets that. He really gets that.

“Well, I ain’t got nowhere to ship Ellie to. She’s stuck with me whether she likes it or not.”

You hum, “I think she likes it.”

He chuckles, “And you can tell that from a thirty-second argument?”

You look up at him with a burgeoning smile on your face, “She wouldn’t have listened to you if she didn’t like you– trust me.”

Trust me.

“Whatever you say, ma’am.”

You nod resolutely.

It’s silent the thirty seconds it takes to walk the rest of the way to Joel’s. 

He shows you around the house and watches you as you map out his home in your head. You pay extra attention to the exits and the windows. Joel catches the way you stare longingly at the kitchen from the entryway.

When he walks up the stairs to show you the bedrooms, you lag behind. But he doesn’t notice until he’s already at the top of the stairs and he doesn’t hear your footsteps anymore. You’re staring at a picture on the wall. It’s of Sarah. 

You don’t say anything. Just stare. He can’t get himself to say anything either.

One breath, two breaths. And you look up at him with something in your eyes that he can’t quite identify; it’s soft, but not pity. Understanding, maybe.

You walk up the rest of the stairs, holding tight to the banister. There’s a slight twitch in your lip when you put weight on your bad leg. He offers to help you, but you just shake your head.

He points out the upstairs bathroom, his room, and then guides you to the guest bedroom that’s been gathering dust for a while now. It used to be Ellie’s, but ever since she’d moved into the garage, it’s been empty. He’d renovated it on the very off chance that one of his relatives came to visit, but it’s stood empty for almost two years, so he doesn’t find himself opening the door very often.

“This’ll be your room. It’s not much, but it’s enough to get you through until you get that baby out of you.”

It’s a small room, enough to comfortably hold a double-bed, a couple side tables, and a dresser. The closet door stands ajar in the corner, full of Christmas decorations. He’s going to have to take those out– find somewhere else for them. Maybe Tommy has room in his basement–

“Okay,” you mumble, “Thank you.”

Your heels click on the hardwood floor in even beats as you walk into the room. Your evaluating eye examines the bed when you approach it. You swipe at a spot on the blanket and the dust jumps and sails through the air, illuminated by the sunlight. Once you’ve decided it’s good enough, you sit down slowly, a hand planted on the mattress behind you as you lower yourself.

Maria had said you were six months pregnant. He remembers how miserable Sarah’s mom had been at this time in her pregnancy. The memory makes him want to puke.

“I know it’s none of my business—“

You glower at him, “Yup. I would say that too.”

“But, whatever brought you here— I hope we can help you. You just let me know if you need anything.”

You soften a little, but the glare remains. “Okay.”

“You ain’t a talker either?”

The both of you know he isn’t talking about “talking”. Emotional vulnerability isn’t a strong suit of his, and it is very clearly not one of yours either.

“Nope.”

He nods, turns, and walks out the door.

Ellie is strong. You don’t lose your mom at thirteen and not have massive amounts of strength afterwards. But she is an expert pouter.

When Joel creeks open the garage door, Ellie is face down on her bed, limbs spread out beneath her. A punk song plays over her speaker that makes Joel’s ear drums pop. Even with the hearing loss in his right ear, he can feel his teeth rattling.

He walks over to the blasting stereo and turns it off.

Her head whips up to pierce him with a death glare, “What the fuck?!”

“Can’t hear myself think with that shit on.”

She mumbles something in her pillow, probably some egregious swear word or some insult related to his age, but he lets her get away with it. Your words come back to him– she wouldn’t listen to him if she really didn’t like him. He’s not patient with most people, but he tries to be for her.

He lowers himself on her bed with a grunt.

“She’s gonna be living with us until her baby comes.”

She hums into her pillow and stuffs her face even further into it.

Joel sighs, “What are you thinking, kid? I’m sorry you didn’t get much of a choice.”

Her voice is muffled as she responds, “Well, what does it matter what I think? You would’ve done it anyway.”

His eyebrows furrow, “What makes you think that?”

“Dina heard she was Betty’s grandkid. Is that true?”

He has no doubt that Dina already knows; she loves to harass Maria when she thinks something is going on and he’s sure that Ellie has been texting Dina since she was forced to go home. 

He nods reluctantly. Joel is sure that as soon as he leaves the room, the stereo will be back on and her phone will be in her hands.

“Exactly. You would not have said ‘no’ to her.”

He sputters, “I’m very capable of sayin’ ‘no’.”

She shakes her head and flips over onto her back, “Not when Betty’s involved.”

He huffs, a small smile on his lips, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

He doesn’t hear the knock on the front door, but Ellie does.

“There’s someone at the door, old man.”

Joel sends a glare in her direction and hoists himself up and off her bed.

He walks to her door, but she interrupts him, “Hey, Joel?”

“Yeah, kid,” he huffs.

Her joking smirk has fallen off her face and a rare seriousness replaces it.

“I’m okay with it, by the way… with her staying. Don’t worry about it.”

All he does is nod. She mocks him with an equally gruff nod.

“We’re not done talkin’ about this; there’s gonna be some new rules around here,” he states.

Ellie throws her limbs up into the air and waves them around erratically, “Whatever! Get out of here so I can sulk!”

The door closes softly behind him and his quiet chuckle.

Opening the front door reveals Mrs. Cassini, his neighbor and the town gossip. 

Her grey hair is in tight, pink curlers and she has a half-done knitting project in her hands, like she’d gotten up in a hurry. There’s little footsteps in the snow in a path from her porch, through his yard, and up to his own porch; her purple slippers are so soaked that they look like a completely different color.

She leaves no time for pleasantries.

“I hear you’ve got a pregnant, homeless woman living in your house.”

It’s gotten to a point where he doesn’t even question how she hears things anymore. He heard a rumor a long time ago from one of their other neighbors that somehow her landline picked up other people’s phone calls. He stopped using his landline after that.

He can’t help the breath of frustration that puffs out of his mouth, “Mrs. Cassini, go home, please. She doesn’t need you spreadin’ rumors about her. She’s already stressed enough as it is.”

Her eyes widen. 

She gasps, “So, it’s true?”

Well, it was going to be confirmed at some point. Guess that point is right now.

“Mrs. Cassini, please go home.”

She huffs like a child, turns on her heel, and walks back to her little cottage next door. He needs to get some sort of security system in his house, specifically for this woman and her unexpected visits.

He hears footsteps scurry up the stairs when he turns around to go back into the house. 

Well, shit.

Joel hadn’t heard the bedroom door open nor had he heard your footsteps as you came out. Mrs. Cassini always knew the worst times to show up, didn’t she?

He approaches the bottom of the stairwell and calls out to you as calmly as he can, “I assume you heard that?”

A tiny gasp comes from the top of the stairs and your feet come into view. You step down a couple stairs and sit yourself down carefully on the plush carpet.

You nod.

“I’m sorry. She’s just kinda like that. Town gossip and all.”

You shrug, stiff and dejected.

“I get it. Weird pregnant girl shows up and everyone’s gotta know what’s wrong with her.”

“Well, it’s none of their business. I’ll just keep turnin’ ‘em away.”

You grab your knees like a kid who’s in timeout. Why do you always look like you’re about to be reprimanded– like you have to protect yourself from some unseen force? He suspects he might look that way too sometimes.

“Thank you. For telling her to go away.”

He hums, hands awkwardly stuffed in his pockets.

“Well, uh, I gotta go back to work, but don’t worry about Bill– I’ll get him to drop the charges on you.”

“Oh, okay.” You nod with a faraway look in your eye, hands coming up to your stomach almost instinctively.And he leaves, hops into his ancient, blue pickup truck, and puts it into drive. What happened to his normal fucking day?

series masterlist | joel masterlist | masterlist of all masterlists

[fluff-lover]

Healing Touch: Jealousy

A little drabble inside Healing Touch, but can be read as a stand alone.

A/N: This takes place after reader/Angel and Logan get together, around chapter 6 (it’s not posted yet)

Logan’s not the “flowers and chocolates” type of guy. He was too “tough” for those corny things, or at least that’s what he likes to think.

But you know he can be tender and thoughtful so when you had flowers delivered to you one morning, you didn’t question it. You giggled with excitement as you placed the flowers in a vase and set them on your desk. They really gave the school’s infirmary a pop of color.

You were supposed to help Hank with some paperwork but you were too distracted looking at the beautiful combination of flowers, your belly filled with butterflies as you thought about Logan and how special he made you feel.

The last bell of the day rang and you could hear the kids rushing through the halls. Finally the day was over. You opened the door and looked around the hall, expecting to see Logan making his way to the infirmary. And he didn’t disappoint.

Since the two of you got together you built a little routine: you saw each other in the infirmary after class to catch up, then you had dinner with the rest of the team, and then he would sneak to your bedroom for some alone time. Logan still chose to sleep by himself in his own room, although it was starting to get harder and harder to say goodnight, both of you just wanting to sleep in the same bed, holding each other. But his fear of hurting you in his sleep was bigger, so this routine was enough, for now at least.

As he made his way to the infirmary he saw you standing by the door with the biggest, most lovely smile on your face, and he felt himself floating to you.

“Hey, little angel.” He greeted you.

“Hi!” you giggled and pulled him inside by his arm.

After kicking the door shut you basically threw yourself at him, arms and legs wrapping around him as you kissed him. Logan was caught by surprise but still managed to catch you mid air without dropping you. The kiss was deep and passionate, the type of kiss you reserved for whenever you were alone in your bedroom. When you finally pulled back you two were breathless

“Someone is in a good mood.” Logan observed, panting. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Mhmmm.” You hummed, eyelids half closed, a smile on your face. “I just wanted to thank you for the flowers.”

Logan blinked.

“What flowers?”

You could swear you heard the sound of a record scratching.

“You didn’t send me flowers?” You asked, slowly “climbing” down Logan. He stared at you.

“No, I didn’t.” 

It’s hard to tell what was bigger: your disappointment or his confusion.

At that Logan spotted the flowers on your desk. He gently pulled aside before stomping to the desk to inspect it. You watched him as he looked around the flowers until he found a little card tucked between the stems. 

You facepalmed, how did you not think about checking first?

“To my little angel -your secret admirer.” Logan read out loud, rage building up in his chest.

“I thought they were from you.” You said shyly. “You’re the only one that calls me that.”

“Well, clearly I’m not!” He said. “And I’m not so much of a secret admirer, am I?”

“I’m sorry.” you looked down. 

With a huff, Logan picked up the flowers and walked out of the infirmary. You frowned in confusion and followed him.

“Where are you going?” You asked, but he didn’t reply, instead he kept walking.

Logan bursted into the teachers’ lounge room with an imposing stance, making the room go quiet very fast.

“Who the FUCK sent flowers to MY girl?” He growled before throwing the bouquet on a table. 

You could hear a pin drop. Everyone looked shocked, and some even a little bit scared. After a moment you heard someone cough.

“Um, that was me.” Alex Summers said. “I didn’t know you two had become a thing...”

You thought Logan would kill him. His breathing picked up, his nose flared and his fists clenched, eyes throwing daggers at him.

Alex didn’t wish for a fight, but if it was needed he was ready to defend himself.

“Logan…” You whispered before placing your hand on his arm. You were the only person that could calm him down. Your touch always seemed to ground him. “It’s okay, he didn’t know.”

Logan bared his teeth to Alex as a final warning before turning to you. His eyes softened instantly. He didn’t want to scare you and you looked upset already, he didn’t like that. He walked to Alex, and the young man squared up his shoulders, ready for a confrontation.

“Logan…” You insisted.

“You try something like this ever again and I will end you.” Logan threatened before turning and walking out the room.

Everyone stood in silence, too shaken up to do or say something.

You looked at the flowers on the table, all torn and ruined, and your heart broke.

… you really liked those flowers. 

-

No one knew where Logan was. After the altercation he took off, god knows where, and hadn’t come back yet. The sun was setting and you were worried. You considered calling him, but instead you chose to send him a text letting him know you’d wait for him at your usual bench.

Sitting there you took a moment to think. You were sad that the flowers weren’t from Logan. You couldn’t care less about Alex, or anyone else for that matter. But you wanted to believe Logan liked you enough to do sweet gestures like sending flowers. Maybe he really wasn’t that type of man, and as much as the idea of never getting flowers hurt you, you knew you’d have to get used to it. Logan expressed his affection in other ways, and that was enough for you.

You were also surprised by how possessive Logan seemed to be about you. Never in a million years you’d think he would fight another man over you. That was the last thing you wanted for him.

That being said, there was a tiny little part of you that was flattered. The way Logan called you HIS girl in a room filled with people made your heartbeat pick up. This was enough for you to know you were in his mind, and he didn’t need to send flowers for people to know you belonged to him.

Suddenly Logan appeared by your side and your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. 

He was holding a big bouquet of red roses, a teddy bear and a box of chocolates. You couldn’t decide whether this was the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen, or if he just looked ridiculous. This was so out of character for him.

“What the…?” You said getting up from the bench.

“Hear me out.” Logan said as he stepped closer. “I know I acted like an asshole and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” You reassured him.

“Yeah, well… Still, I shouldn’t have acted out like that. I think I was jealous.”

“You think?” you teased, making him roll his eyes.

“I don’t like the idea of Alex, or anyone else for that matter, to swoop in and take you away.”

You felt yourself melting.

“Oh Logan, that’s never gonna happen.” 

“It should happen if I don’t treat you right.” He said.

“What do you mean?” You asked, confused.

“I never sent you flowers.” Logan said with shame, as if it was an embarrassing thing to admit. “And then some random guy does and it makes me look bad.” He shook his head. “I’m an idiot.”

“No you’re not, don’t say that.” you shook your head.

“I don’t know how to do this whole… relationship thing.” He said, cringing at his own election of words. “But I’m trying, okay? I really want to do things right. So…” He looked down at the gifts. “I got my girl some flowers and… stuff.” Poor guy, he was really trying.

You smiled and reached out to take the flowers from him.

“Red roses… that’s very romantic.” You giggled before sniffing a flower and sighing happily. “Thank you Logan, I love them.” You stood on your toes and pecked his lips. He smiled widely, the type of smile that steals your breath away every. single. time. 

You took the rest of his gifts and walked back to his bedroom with him.

Later that night you looked at the flowers on your desk, lit only by your bedside table. The box of chocolates was open and half empty, and the teddy bear was on your dresser facing the wall because according to Logan, “he shouldn’t see what papa was about to do to mama”.

And what a show it was!

Logan laid between your legs, with his head on your chest after some intense love making. You ran your hands through his hair and he hummed happily.

“That was… something.” you said exhausted and giggled. Logan propped himself up and smiled down at you. The way he looked at you made you blush shyly, even after everything you just did. There was a softness in his eyes that was reserved only for you.

“Something good I hope.” He joked.

“Baby it’s a good thing I can heal fast, because otherwise I don’t think I would be able to walk tomorrow.” you laughed.

“Good, good.” Logan said proudly before caressing your cheek. “I know that now everyone is aware that you’re my girl, but just to be sure…” You watched him take his dog tags and place them in your hand.

“Lo…” You gasped.

“That way everyone will know.” He said. You quickly put them on and once they sat on your chest Logan leaned in and kissed you.

Not only were you his girl, but by giving you his tags he was also saying “I’m yours.”

Logan Howlett was your man.

-

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[loverboysturn]

✮⋆˙ newboy!matt has his after school daily debrief with his brothers at the dinner table

note: hehe i tried to add this into a blurb for newboy!matt but it just didn't work including it so i cut it but i thought it was kinda cute and still wanted to share this conversation between them so enjoy as a drabble / short blurb :)

find all writings for newboy!matt here and everything else for him here !

matt dropped his backpack by the door and slid into the usual seat at the dinner table, it was just the three of them tonight, their parents were working late again, but he was glad about that, he knew they were still angry with him for getting kicked out of his old school, and no matter how much he tried to brush it off, he could feel it whenever they looked at him, without them there, tonight he could breathe a little easier, not having to pretend like everything was fine.

"so, how was it today, new boy?" chris asks jokingly, leaning forward on his chair a little.

"same as every other day i've been there" matt mumbles back, pushing the pasta around on his plate.

nick glances up from opposite matt, looking up from his phone. "same as? come on, it's a new school, you have to be doing something different to the shit we're doing."

matt shrugs, trying to act uninterested. "nothing much to say, i'm just keeping my head down, trying to stay out of trouble this time."

chris raises an eyebrow at his brother. "out of trouble, huh? for someone who has just transferred, that's pretty fuckin’ boring kid. i spent years at our school keeping you out of trouble.”

matt sighs, wishing they’d drop it. “yeah and i spent years getting you into it, nothing exciting happens when you’re the new kid.”

he could feel his brothers still watching, waiting for them to say something else, anything else.

chris, sensing the silence as his que, his voice casual but matt knew from the tone that he had been dying to ask, “so, no girls at the new school, huh?”

matt’s fingers tightened around his fork, he didn’t feel like getting into it but he knew chris wouldn’t let this one go, he leaned in again, that annoying smirk plastered on his face. “you’re telling me in a whole school full of girls, there’s not one worth your time?”

matt’s eyes flicked up briefly, debating whether to shut it down now or not. “there’s one girl, she’s in my english class.”

the room went quiet for a second, chris raised an eyebrow, as if the mention of you was all the invitation he needed, but matt wasn’t going to feed into chris’s excitement over this, especially not tonight.

“she’s part of the popular crowd” matt adds, keeping his tone flat.

chris was looking at him now, that familiar grin smacked on his face. “oh, is she now? what’s the story?”

matt ignored him, he just shoved a mouthful of pasta in his mouth, keeping his eyes focused on his plate, because the truth was there was no story, there wasn’t supposed to be a story and there wasn’t going to be a story. matt didn’t want there to be a story.

nick chimed in, adding fuel to the fire. “is she pretty? have you got a thing for her?”

matt shot him a look, letting him know he was over this, “yes, she’s pretty, and no, i don’t have a thing for her.”

chris didn’t look convinced but matt didn’t care, whatever thoughts had crossed his mind, whatever little interactions with you had lingered in his thoughts, didn’t matter.

“look, i love you guys, but don’t get any ideas.” matt mutters, “there’s no romance with me and anyone at this new fuckin’ school, let’s drop it and move the conversation on now.”

with that, he shoved another bite of pasta in his mouth, shutting the conversation down for good.

[marsdql]

lovin’ me was never a sin — n.r﹙西村力﹚

snyopsis ៸ You are torn between falling in love with the enigmatic senior you were supposed to spy on and supporting your close friend from another school. ៸៸ -> masterlist

genre ៸ angst, romance┊ wordcount ៸ 3,5k content warning ៸ miscommunication, dishonesty, emotinal conflict, little toxic, immature┊ not proofread┊lowkey not happy with this one but wtv ៸ ៸

“You need to check him out for me, y/n!” screamed Giselle, your best friend— from the other line. “Okay, okay. So tell me more about this guy and I’ll see what I can do. But you better pay for tteokbokki next time!” you replied. “His name is Ni-ki, he’s only a year older than us, a hot senior.. anyway! I’ll send you a picture of him. He looks a little like you not gona’ lie…”

“Okay, I’ll update you when I see him. Unlike you, my class starts early so… I’ll see you later Giselle.” You hung up the line, placing your phone in your bag as you rushed to school.

You could barely walk in the snow, your shoes soaked because you refused to wear snow boots. ‘That’s it.. I accept my defeat, I’ll be late to my first class after winter break’ you thought to yourself, staring at the path ahead of you and letting out a dramatic sigh.

Before you could finish your dramatic act, you spot something that isn’t white like the snow that’s surrounding you—a tall slim guy struggling in the snow just like you. Though, there was something about him, He looked…. Familiar? That’s when you realized.

You quickly pulled your phone out of the side of your bag, putting your arms in an awkward position as you tried to open and close your bag. You reopened you and Giselle’s chats to check the photo she sent you of the guy she requested you to “keep an eye on”. Just as you figured, there he was, it was him, Nishimura Riki was right infront of you.

Lost in thought, your body shifted closer to him, making him side eye you weirdly. You kept getting closer and closer—until he finally said something. “Uh, do you need anything?” His voice low but deep—making you come back from lala land. “what? What! No.. hah no.. I was just approaching you because I noticed you’re also late to school! Why not walk together right?” You blocked your ears as you spoke, not wanting to let yourself even hear what nonsense came out of your own mouth.

“…Alright.” He said, both of you continuing your walk to school in silence—mostly because you didn’t known eachother but also because of how awkward your only conversation was.

“That’s it for class, make sure to study for the provincial math exam, you guys have 2 days to study everything we’ve learned this semester. Class dismissed” your teacher spoke before the bell rang for lunch.

You walked out of the classroom trying to hold your excitement—excited to see your friends since you couldn’t in the morning.

To your surprise, when you message them asking where they are, they reply saying that they already went to the bus station to go to the mall food court… cafeteria alone it is..

You knew school wasn’t going to be fun when you come back, but you didn’t think it’s be this boring. Just as you were saying that—Giselle messaged you.

Giselle: did you see him?!

You: Yaaah, we were both late to class so we walked to school together. We didn’t talk tho.

Giselle: omg(!(!;$$;!(!!!! How was it? Omg was he hotter close up??

You: it was so bad… I embarrassed myself that’s the reason we didn’t even talk. He’s alright I guess… he’s like emo?

Just as you said that, a guy sat next to you. You switched you gaze to him—Ni-ki? Again? Speaking of the devil… You were quick to speak, “hey, why’d you sit here?” You questioned him, a smirk across your face, thinking that he must want to become friends after what happend in the morning—oh but if only you knew how fast that smirk was going to be wiped off your face.

He removed his AirPods, looking back at you with one eyebrow raised and his lips slightly parted. “Were you talking to me?” Your eye lids quickly turning heavy at the embarrassment you just experienced.

“What? No! I mean, yes! Do you understand Uhm.. math?” You made up, “what kind of math?” he asked, to which you quickly answered. “All. Everything. 11th grade math.” “Do you need help?” “Yes, but I don’t know anyone who’s good in math and.. you look smart..?”

You dodged a bullet of more embarrassment. Ni-ki believed it and requested helping you with the math you couldn’t even understand when the teacher explained it. Surprisingly, he could explain pretty well and you understood a few things.

He offered to help you more before the huge exam—adding his number into your phone so that you could message him whenever you have a question you can’t complete.

It had been days since your first incounter with nishimura riki—he helped you pass your math exam which was unexpected since you both never talked. It’s like you guys were destined to become friends.

Everyday you guys became closer. It went from only studying—to walking eachother to class—to hanging out at each others house. Giselle was aware of everything aswell, getting herself excited so that she could use you as an excuse to talk to him.

But you couldn’t lie, feelings started to grow the more and more you both hung out. He was perfect in every way. Whenever you’d go to his apartment that he lived alone in—everything was organised, the Colors all matched. He always smelled good, his hair was never greasy either. He looked good in everything aswell.

When he’d help you with things, he never once made you feel stupid. Everyone knew him as the cold senior but he seemed so nice with you.

Dinnng!

giselle: Are you with ni-ki?

you: No, he just left. Why?

Giselle: oh. em. gee. He’s at the same store as me and this guy but I don’t want him to know I speak to boys…

You: LOL? Why??

Giselle: because when I’ll approach him, he’ll think I have a guy already!!!

You: you’re suchaaa boopppp 🙄🙄

Giselle: homie hopper til i Die 😫

A few minutes later, you heard a knock at your door. You rush to open it—wondering who it is.

It was ni-ki, again. “Hey, I noticed how you’ve been stressing over all the exams coming up next week. So I figured after you left I’d go to the store and get snacks so we can chill and watch movies.” He said, looking down at you, his eyes softer than usual when speaking.

“Come in, ki! You’ll catch a cold.” You giggled as you pushed him inside then dragging him to your room. He was a tease but still had a soft spot inside of him. “Whatcha’ wanna watch? Let me guess, tru-“ “true beauty!” “I knew it.”

Everyday was something new,

- hey y/n, I got you lunch

- Wanna’ hang out tonight?

- Let’s go to the movies

- Did you hear the latest rumor about-

- Do you know how many teeth sharks have?

His excuses became worse than yours—he just wanted to hang out. As much as you wanted to aswell, you knew your feelings for him would just grow bigger. You couldn’t like him though, he was one of giselle’s target—you were just her messenger.

There was only one thing to do, ignore him, no matter what.

“Y/n, wait up.” You heard from across the hallway behind you. You knew that voice—nishimura’s. It was unforgettable—almost making you turn back, but you had to control yourself. You brought this apon yourself, you were only supposed to watch from far, not get close and fall inlove.

You saw him from a reflection, the stupid look on his face. He seemed like he felt dumb, chasing like a dog after you, and for what? You were the one avoiding him, why is he the one who feels bad about himself.

After a week of nishimura trying to get a hold of you, he eventually gave up. He blew up your phone many times knowing you’d never be able to explain your horrible behaviour in person. That’s when you decided to write him one and only message to try and get him to stop;

You: I don’t like you, please stop

It wasn’t normal for you to act this harsh, ever. You never behaved like this but you know deep down that him trying to get your attention just makes you think about him more. You made it seem in your message that you didn’t want him to text back, but really—you hoped he’d make an argument so that you could act clueless, just so you have an excuse to yourself, to message him a little more.

read yesterday

Fast forward, 2 weeks before the end of the school year.

It was soon to be exam week, but it was different this time—you didn’t have a miracle pop up to help you like last semester.

You were at the library, waiting for Giselle and your other friends from school—including some that go to giselle’s. As you were waiting, your eye kept shifting to the couch infront of you—where ni-ki was at.

You and ni-ki used to always study at this library, that’s mostly why you came here. He always kept to himself and stayed with the unpopular people—people you didn’t know, so you never had the chance to ask anyone about him. You knew nothing about him anymore. Your friendship with him ended as fast as it started—reminder, all. because. of. you.

A few minutes later, you spot Giselle and her friends walk in. “Omg! Y/n!!! Long time no seee! When was the last time we hung out? March break? It’s been sooo long.” Said one of the girls as she ran to hug you. “Hii ellie, yah it’s been a while heh..” you replied. Giselle watching in amusement and joining in “okay get off her, I wana’ sit next to my cutie y/nnieee”.

“Hey, Giselle. Psst, Giselle” Whispered Ellie. “What is it?” “Who’s that guy from across us? Don’t make it obvious, just pretend you’re looking at the painting behind him..” You realized she was talking about Ni-ki—and without thinking, you talked back—“that’s Ni-ki!” You said in excitement, as if you were waiting to get a chance to talk about him.

Giselle looked a little shocked at your tone of voice who seemed to be said with a little more enthusiasm than intended. “Yeah, that’s Nishimura Riki” she told Ellie. “Wait, wasn’t that one of the guys you wanted to try and hook up with?” Hanni questioned, another girl who was at the table.

Your ears went from big to huge the second she asked that question, wanting to know her thoughts about ni-ki now. “Oh yah, but he’s too.. I don’t know he’s too mysterious. Need’ me a frat boy like Lee Heeseung or Sim Jaeyun. Plus, he’s leaving soon.” What? He’s leaving? “Where is he leaving to?” you asked, to which she replied “Japan, his homecountry.”

You stared at him from across the room, analysing his every move, hoping he’d look back at you.

You waited until all your girl friends left—obviously, ni-ki still there—studying to make sure he gets well. Unlike you, he got all the hard subjects second semester—and being a senior Doesn’t help it.

You stood up, feeling a little weird. You were the one disrespecting him, yet you’re the one going back to him. You had your reason for what you did, but it was never a valid reason.

You walked towards him, his gaze still focused in his books. As you got closer, he instinctively looked at you, following a long eye roll from him.

You thought he was going to speak, maybe ask what you want from him, but he didn’t say anything— he just, stared at you.

“I-im sorry, ni-ki.” You mumbled. His eyebrows furrowed, “don’t you think you’re a little late?” He said, chuckling to himself, all the memories coming back to both your minds. “I-I know I was wrong, I swear I had a reason! It seemed important to me back then but—I realized now how stupid it was and I’m just sorry, okay? You don’t need to forgive me but—“

“Y/n” he interrupted you, taking your wrist and sitting you down next to him. He let you adjust in place before he leaned in, his lips slightly brushing your ear, “if you’re so sorry, then explain everything.”

“No.. I can’t say it, it’s just—personal.” You couldn’t tell him that your friend liked him, that’s like … betraying Giselle! “Fine then, whatever.” He spoke, his voice turning cold.

You and him sat there in silence. He went back to his work as you just sat there. He didn’t order you to leave, he didn’t leave, you didn’t excuse yourself either. You figured to just open your books and pretend study again—just so you could sit a little longer with him.

You started drawing random doodles on a paper to make it seem like you were working, it’s not like ni-ki would take a glance at your papers anyway, right? He didn’t care.

You started thinking to yourself, ‘how could you I ever tell ni-ki why I acted like that? I miss him so much. Why did Giselle ever have to lay her eyes on him?’ Not realising that you were actually writing down your every thought onto the paper until ni-ki shifted a bit in his seat, making you come back into reality and quickly scribbling on everything you wrote.

the day of flight xxx

It’s finally summer. But it feels as if a rock has just landed on your head. You won’t see Nishimura anymore in the hallways, you won’t see him for a while actually. Deep down, the thought made your heart ache. Matter of fact, you don’t even know when he’ll be leavi-

Notifications — INSTAGRAM -> Choi Soobin posted a photo: Goodluck in Japan, Dude!

Now? He’s leaving.. now?! Before your brain could process anything that was happening, you jumped from your bed, took your keys and sprinted to the car.

As you walked into the airport, you realized what you just did. You just drove to the airport for ni-ki—the guy YOU ghosted—the guy that gave you a chance to speak after doing him so wrong, yet you still chose not to. There’s no going back anymore.

You were able to track his flight on this app you had, so you know he still hasn’t boarded his plane yet. Though, one thing you couldn’t track was—his gate number.

Luckily, the world was on your side today—spotting Soobin just as you were thinking of plans on how to find Ni-ki in the huge airport. You sprinted towards him. “Soo-SOO-SOOBIN!” You panted, attempting to catch your breath after running. “NI-KI..! GATE? WHERE” You questioned, your hands gripping his shoulders aggressively—unable to form a full sentence.

To which he respond with, “woah, ‘wonder what you’re doin’ here.. calm down, Gate B3” “THANK U”

you ran all over the airport, you asked 3 different workers, just to find his gate. It’s too late to make effort now, but you couldn’t imagine riki leaving without you seeing him again and giving a proper goodbye.

After running around like a lost dog, you finally did it—you found him. He was sitting in the corner of lined seats at the gate in the back, near the window, his eyes glued to his phone.

You ran to him, the sound of your heels against the floor making everyone stare at you—including ni-ki who raised his eyes from his phone, surprised to see you.

“Ni-ki..” you muttered, your voice cracking a little. You didn’t expect yourself to get emotional so fast. “Ni-ki, I’m so sorry—Im sorry for everything. I know what I did was wrong. I’m sorry. Someone else liked you and I know I couldn’t like you aswell , I’m sorry” You continued, “I didn’t want to stay with you because I felt as if I was just playing a game since I knew we could never get together but now I don’t care anymore.. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you spat out all at once. You didn’t even know if the words came out right from the amount of stuff you had in mind.

“Why are you saying sorry?” The black haired boy said as he chuckled, standing up and towering over you—slowly brushing off hair strands that sticked because of the tears that you ugly-sobbed out. You looked at him in confusion. “W-why—hic—why are you laughing?..”

he pulled you into a hug, his arms overlapping themselves on you. “Why are you apologising?” He pulled away slightly to look at you with a smile, “you can just say you like me.”

“By the way.. I saw what you wrote the other day in your notebook. You're so stupid..”

BONUS:

rikiwasntcatched: okay guys thanks she came to me and I think we’re inlove, it’s like some kdrama type shyt’

wonbinparkk: did it actually work?

partyneedssoobin: hell yah man. I’m telling you she was goin’ crazy when she saw me. She’s inlove with niki bro. Now all u gots to do is hide out for 2 days then say you’re comin back to Korea and boom problem solved

younghooney: hold up, kiki isn’t actually going to japan?

Rikiwasntcatched: she was so cute she was crying I was like gang chill I still love u or whateverrrrr I know I’m so handsome but no need to sob about it

partyneedssoobin: LOL we both won, I got Giselle and u got y/n from this incident.

wonbinparkk: who tf tells their bf about their old huzz? That’s like mad weird…

rikiwasntcatched: a win is a win what can I say. Movie night?

Younghooney: why am I being ignored

partyneedssoobin: chat my application to Harvard just got declined wtf

[thevampireladyambrosia]

The Professor's Pet

Request via anon.

Pairing: Male!Kitsune x Female!Reader.

Content Warning: Power dynamics (professor x student), manipulation, age gap, knots.

You have always been a good student. At least at this university. A school involving magic was the dream. As a human, however, you struggled a bit. Especially with charms. In fact, you frequently explode them by pouring too much energy in. You can't help it. You are just so excited. Thus, you fell behind in class.

The professor, an older kitsune with all nine tails, noticed this. He had been trying to help you as much as he could, but he could only do so much. So you quickly began to fail the class.

This caused you to panic. You could only go to this place because you got a full ride scholarship. A scholarship that requires a certain GPA to keep.

So you doubled down. You tried harder. You stayed up later. Only for things to become more of a disaster. Your anxious energy explodes charms more easily. Your sleep deprivation led to you making mistakes you normally wouldn't.

It was very late one night that you decided you'd approach the professor the next day. You knew his office hours from the beginning of the year; from when he had gone over the syllabus. Maybe you could ask for an extra credit essay? Something. Anything. You had to pass this class.

The next day goes slowly. It's like the universe knew you had something that needed done, so it slowed down time. You found yourself glancing at the clock every couple minutes. You were an anxious mess. The professor seemed nice enough. But would he help you?

When the time came for you to approach his office you somehow grew more anxious. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced your feet to move. You entered his office.

He looked up and smiled. He greeted you and gestured for you to take a seat.

“I'm assuming you're here about your grade?” He stated. He said it casually and in a nonchalant way. But it was anything but that to you. It determined the rest of your life. Failing would mean not being able to continue at this school. It would mean everything had been for nothing.

“Um… yeah.” You replied. You mentally kicked yourself. You wanted to say more, but it would come out. Like your mouth was too dry, and your lips were sewn shut.

“I went ahead and took a look at your assignments. It appears you weren't absent for much. Rather, it became apparent that you had a knack for exploding things throughout the year. As you likely know, I could have done something if you had excused absences. I could have let you make up the work for partial credit. Simply failing is different, though. If I let you redo it, you'd gain an unfair advantage over your classmates.”

You sucked in a breath. There it was. What you had feared all along. Your face fell. You were really going to fail the class.

“But…” You immediately snapped back into attention. There was a glimmer of hope in that simple word. “I do reward effort. And you, my dear student, have put in effort. Tell me, how far are you willing to go to secure your grade?”

You blinked. Did he want you to clean the classroom? Write a huge report? Do a presentation?

“I'd do anything. Anything at all.” You said confidently.

“That's a bold statement.” The kitsune said. But you didn't miss the glimmer in his eye. The same one people have when they get something they want. When they succeed at something. Satisfaction.

“It's the truth,” you replied. And it was. At this point in time, you'd do just about anything to secure your grade. Aside from doing something that harmed others.

“How about I give you a bonus assignment? One worth a good chunk of points. It would be distributed and added onto your other grades. But you'd have to keep it a secret. And I'd want something in return.”

You couldn't believe your ears. A chance to pass. You'd have to be positively insane to say no. But what did he want in return?

“I'll do it. Whatever it is, I'll do it. And I won't tell a soul.” You couldn't believe your own mouth. This was basically cheating. This would make you a fraud. The kitsune seemed to recognize where your mind was heading. And he acknowledged it in his next statement.

“It's not cheating. I'm a professor. I would know. The greatest minds weren't just people who were good at things. They were people who were passionate about things. You, my dear, have passion. You have drive. You have perseverance. Is it really cheating? Or are you just getting acknowledged for your work?”

You felt strange. He had praised you. Maybe he was right? I mean, you did work hard.

“But, even more amazing, is the fact you know how to work the system.” You looked at him. What was he talking about? “Wearing that short skirt you know would drive men crazy.”

Your eyes widen. You open your mouth to protest, to explain, but his hand slips under your skirt. It catches you so off guard that you don't even get a word out. Luckily, he only rubs your thigh before withdrawing his hand.

“I-” He cuts you off.

“You said anything, remember?” He's smiling at you. “What I want is simple. I want you to let me stuff your pretty little cunt with my cock. Just this once. After all, that's what you offered when you said anything, yes?”

He had a point. You did say anything. And maybe one time was worth it for a good grade?

“Okay. I consent. Just this once.” The professor didn't hesitate. You could barely process anything before you were bent over his desk. Your underwear were pushed aside as he roughly shoved a finger in. It stung slightly but quickly faded as your cunt lubricated itself.

It would help if you didn't enjoy it. If your cunt wasn't sending waves of pleasure into your brain, making it short circuit. When his thumb found your clit and a second finger joined, you moaned. It was loud and filthy. It made you feel disgusted with yourself.

He fingered you until you came around onto his hand hard. It was the most intense orgasm of your life. And it was given to you by your professor. Your way older professor. But you didn't care anymore.

He made you beg for his cock. Made you plead. And you did. He didn't even bother to undress you nor himself. He just pulled his growing erection out and kept your underwear pushed aside. He shoved into you in one swift motion that made you cry out and see stars.

He fucked you rough and hard, his pace unforgiving. And when you came, you gushed around his cock. If you thought the orgasm earlier was intense, this one was unreal. You became practically boneless. Your vision went white. You could have sworn you passed out for a brief moment.

And then he came. Buried deep in your cunt. You felt the warmth of his seed fill you. And something strange happened too. It was like he got bigger. Like his penis expanded, locking him in. You had expected him to pull out. You had assumed incorrectly.

It wasn't even a minute after his penis went back to normal that he fixed your clothes and ushered you out. Something about office hours being over.

You walked back to your dorm on wobbly legs, your professor's cum dripping down your thighs. You pressed them together to hide it as much as possible.

When you arrived back, you showered and went to bed. A few days later you had a B in his class.

[ghoularaki]

baby's breath | 15

↠  summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 2,694

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, bondage, emotional manipulation, humiliation/degrading, slight mindbreak

After the incident in your cage, you don’t know how much longer you could handle this torment. Levi had been rough with cleaning you last night. His tone was mean and scathing as he scrubbed your skin raw. The same lecture dripped off his tongue. Why don’t you just obey?

He didn’t care for your babbling tears and weak apologies. He knew you would just repeat this again until they or you break. You could never do it the easy way. It just wasn’t in your nature.

So Levi decided to give you the push—he told himself it’s for your sake, but he knew his selfish reasons.

All day while Erwin had left for work, Levi had upped the ante. You could tell he had something planned. He didn’t let you forget your shame that you wet yourself for the second time you were trapped in this house.

“You’re going to make yourself useful today,” He said as he dressed you for the day.

You tilted your head in confusion and grumbled. How exactly could you help in this state?

Turning towards the hamper in the corner of the bathroom, he grabbed it and commanded you to follow. Perplexed, you shuffled behind him out the bathroom and down the hall. Turning left, he went into the corridor you didn’t explore besides to flash the light. You stared at the window, it looked so different with sunlight fluttering through it.

Going to the door to the far left beside the window, Levi hitched the basket on his hip and opened the door. Leaving it open for you, you walked inside the foreign room.

Inside, in front of you in the small room was a washer and dryer. Levi placed the basket on the counter to the right of you, cabinets hung above it. In the corner was a door, you could only assume it was a closet. By the machines was a radiator.

“Sort these by lights and darks,” He commanded.

Not really understanding what he was trying to pull, you awkwardly shuffle over to the wooden counter. With limited mobility, you scooped up the clothes and sorted them as he demanded. Across the small room he went about his business, though his eyes didn’t leave you. His gaze burned against your back.

In no time, you finished the task you were given. Pivoting on your foot, you grunted at him. He was already waiting.

He nodded his head to the cabinet above you, “Grab the laundry detergent.”

Quirking a brow, you went back to the counter. Above you the cabinets had a handle thankfully. Reaching up, you cupped the handle between your curled hands. The detergent was on the bottom most shelf. Most likely to be easily accessible to Levi. On your tippy-toes you were able to reach the gallon, but you couldn’t get a good grip.

You knew Levi wanted you to ask—well, gesture—for help. Fuck that. You weren’t going to roll over for him. Glaring at the obnoxious yellow gallon, you squeezed both hands around it the best you can and pulled.

It immediately slipped out of your hands and you clenched your eyes, ready for impact. The warmth of Levi’s chest against your back prodded your skin as he swiftly caught the detergent.

Opening your lids, you tilted your head to him. His face was blank, but you could tell the annoyance in his posture.

“That’s my bad. I forgot how idiotic you are.”

One hand clutched on the gallon, he pulled from you. His warmth left with him.

You looked down, humiliated. Levi knew exactly what to say to make you feel thoroughly degraded.

He didn’t acknowledge you while he finished the laundry. You stood there aimlessly, feeling like a stupid child. Your nose itched at wanting to cry. Not many things got to you like this, but both him and Erwin knew exactly how to dig into old, festering wounds. The silent treatment after being ripped a new one wasn’t anything unfamiliar.

Burying the spiraling thoughts and unpleasant memories, you simply waited for Levi to be done.

Finally glancing at you, he crossed his arms. “Are you competent enough to bring the basket back to the bathroom while I make lunch or is that too difficult for you, too?”

A snarl left before you could help it. He purposely made you try to get the detergent knowing full well you couldn’t properly grab it. And now he continuously rubbed in that you needed help.

Huffing, you spun around, grabbed the basket and stomped past him. His hand easily hooked above your elbow and tugged you back.

“Watch your tone.”

He jostled you when you glared. Shifting your gaze off to the side, you sighed and nodded. Getting what you were trying to convey, he let you go. Scurrying away from him, Levi popped you on the ass.

Your shoulders shot to your ears as you walked faster. The slap was light and your bum didn’t even sting, but you do not like him being so touchy especially in that way.

Rushing to the bathroom, you dropped the basket down. You sat on the toilet lid for a moment to gather your thoughts. Levi was trying his hardest to get you to break, you knew this well. As much as you didn’t want it to affect you, it did. Your resolve had already been flimsy, like a dilapidated building, from the incident in the crate.

Putting your head between your knees, you exhaled. How much longer could you handle this? Not just this particular punishment, but being confined here. Were you doomed to be broken in like a bad dog. How much longer until you became another one of Erwin’s failed strays? Trying to strategize the possibilities only made you dizzy.

Pushing yourself up, you switched your brain off and walked in the kitchen to where Levi stood.

“Took you long enough.”

You shrugged at his jab. Levi’s cheek twitched at your monotone response.

The table had already been set with sandwiches. You stared at the food blankly. There was no way you could eat without help or else you would make a mess. Levi hated messes.

“You should be grateful I’m letting you eat at the table.”

Pulling your chair out, Levi tilted the chair to face him. Sitting in your chair, you didn’t look at him as he unbuckled the belts in the muzzle and removed it from your throbbing jaw. Rolling the bone around, you tried to relieve as much pain as you could.

The gag clattered against the table top. Levi grabbed his own food and ate. You merely stared at your food, working it around in your brain on how to grab it without embarrassing yourself.

“If you need help, use your words,” He snarked, not looking at you.

Glaring up from under your brow, you didn’t comment. Going back to your sandwich, you reached out. Just as the leather almost touched it, you stopped. You didn’t want to dirty it. Levi would only call you filthy and you don’t know if you could handle it.

You weren’t filthy, you weren’t dirty, you weren’t a slob, and you most certainly weren’t incompetent.

Sliding the plate away, you sagged against the chair.

“Stop being stubborn and eat.” Levi had finished his own food.

Giving the silent treatment right back to him, you shook your head. Slipping the plate to him, he grabbed a slice, ready to feed you as he intended.

Your skin crawled at the thought of Levi hand-feeding you. That was something Erwin relished in, not him. Levi didn’t like treating you like a child, he gave you more leeway to be the adult you are.

Rapidly, you shook your head again.

“No? Then pick it up.”

The helplessness swallowed you whole. The support beam holding the last of your sanity snapped.

An earth shattering sob hiccuped from the depth of your diaphragm. The mitts covered your face as you cried and cried.

Levi blinked in surprise and instantly his hands cradled your shoulders. His palms engulfed the bones, igniting you.

“I can’t take it! I didn’t mean to, I swear. I’m sorry, I was scared! Please stop this, please,” The words tumbled out in a wicked stream. At this point, you don’t even know if you’re apologizing for trying to escape, or something else.

Pulling your hands from your face, he considered you for a moment. “What are you willing to do to be forgiven?”

“Anything! Just please stop with the muzzle and mittens. I won’t even complain about the shock collar,” You babbled, staring into his unwavering gaze.

“Prove it.”

“How?”

Levi didn’t say anything as his hand went to brush against your wet, puffy cheek. “I will think of something as we wait for Erwin to come home.”

Letting your head hang, you didn’t reply as you continued to sniffle. How weak could you be?

You winced at the slamming of the front door. Erwin was home. This did not soothe you as you curled in yourself. You were sat on the couch, waiting for him to arrive.

Levi continued to finish cleaning the house, leaving you to mope.

“Hello princess- why aren’t you wearing your gag?” Erwin cut himself off, puzzled at your lack of restraints.

You didn’t respond. Levi walked in and spoke for you, “The brat has something to say.”

“Oh?” Erwin raised a thick brow.

“I’m sorry,” You paused to gulp, “I will- um, I will do anything to earn your forgiveness.” Your own patheticness made you gag.

A smile graced Erwin as he stepped further inside. Kneeling before you, he clutched onto your hands. “Anything?”

“Anything,” You breathed.

Levi came to stand by Erwin and grabbed your jaw. Stretching your neck and turning you to him, his fingers dug into the hollows of your cheeks.

“I decided what I want. Bark for me.”

Cornered by the two men, you couldn’t process his request. His fingers pinched further in.

Swallowing your pride, you parted your lips and barked. The sound was small and unsure, you honestly sounded like a pathetic puppy begging for attention.

Levi swiped his thumb across your lip. He gave a small shutter, obviously pleased with your broken disposition.

“Got any requests, Erwin?” Levi asked and honed in on the man next to him.

“I do.”

Sliding his hand away from your face, Levi didn’t leave.

Erwin grabbed your attention, his fingers fiddled with the belts. Those deep blues bore you. “I want you to address me properly. I’m your daddy. I know how hard it is for you, so I will allow three reminders. If I need to remind you more than that, then everything goes back with no fuss. Understood?”

Biting the inside of your cheek to subdue the gag, you retreat in your head. “Understood, d-daddy.”

Shockingly a blush spread on Erwin’s cheeks as he let his head hang for a moment. A soft fuck muttered under his breath.

“That enough to get you going, you old pervert?” Levi jabbed at Erwin, amusement present on his face.

Erwin only chuckled, he wasn’t wrong.

Composing himself, Erwin flicked open the belts and one by one freed your hands. You instantly flexed your fingers, returning proper circulation to them. Free once more, you were ready to abuse it.

“Can I go to the bathroom, daddy?” The word tasted foul on your tongue, but you weren’t going to immediately land yourself gagged and bound again.

Erwin smiled, “Go ahead, pretty girl.”

Crawling away from them, you jumped off the other side of the couch and raced to the bathroom. Shutting the door, you leaned your back against it and slid down until your butt ungracefully hit the cold floor.

Staring into the room, you look into the open compartments under the sink. Curious, you crawled to the bins you haven’t seen before. Rummaging through them you didn’t find anything useful, but you did come across a pink bin filled with feminine products. Unused feminine products. A cold rock dropped to the bottom of your stomach.

You haven’t had your period in months.

Forgetting you indeed needed to go, you swung the door open and fumbled out to look out the window down the hall. You knew the weather had gotten slightly colder, but the green leaves being swallowed by orange only cemented what you thought.

You haven’t bled since being kidnapped. Your period was pretty regular, every once and a while skipping a month or two if you were stressed enough, but never this long.

Racking your hands into your hair, you gripped the strands and tugged. You were going to be sick. You needed out of here now.

The rest of the night you were on edge, deep in your head. Nothing processed in front of you. Both men noticed the spontaneous change in your demeanor. They didn’t matter as you were actively losing your mind and your cool.

You refused to believe there was a possibility you were pregnant. It would have to be Levi’s. You never wanted children, especially not his. Before you were homeless you were trying to get your tubes tied, but you ultimately couldn’t afford it.

You could tell them about this, they must have also noticed, but you were scared of the reaction. Would they force you to keep it, continue this fucked up game of house?

Shaking your head, you weren’t going to risk it. So you stayed silent, spoke only when addressed and picked at the scabs on your palms to distract yourself.

“Ready for bed?” Erwin asked softly.

“Yes, daddy.” You hated this, you hated them with every fiber of your being.

Guiding you to your room, you bared with his palm at the small of your back. Opening the crate, he didn’t need to help as you went inside yourself.

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

Laying away from him, you stared out into the room, “You too, daddy.”

Erwin lingered for a moment as if to question you, but decided against it and walked out the room.

For hours you did not move. You slowed your breathing to listen out for the men. Even when both footsteps retreated up the stairs to retire, you waited.

You counted to a thousand to ease your mind. Reaching said number, your hand grabbed your teddy and pulled the screwdriver from betwixt the cotton.

Getting up on your knees, you picked the lock with ease. You were getting good at this. Maybe when you get out of here, you can become a locksmith. You saw somewhere they made decent money.

Placing the tool down, you clambered out your cage and crept to the door. Carefully, you leaned your head out and stared down the hall for any noise. The house was bare of any sound. Satisfied, you tip-toed out.

You continued your descent down the corridor. At the arch to the kitchen and living room, you peaked your head to see no Levi having his midnight tea. You had been awake the whole time so Levi was bound to come down soon, so you had to be quick.

Shuffling to the mudroom, you crouched at the drawer and grabbed the flashlight. Leaving it slightly ajar, you went to the familiar hallway. Tonight must have been a full moon from how brightly it streamed through the window.

Sitting down, you clicked on the flashlight. The old couple must be suspicious at this point. When you came home from the hospital the elderly man had lingered, he must know something is up. Though you have no clue how long it would take before he or his wife noticed.

Absentmindedly, you signaled S.O.S. over and over. You worked it over in your head, did you have the time to waste relying on the possibility they could save you? Despite being free of the restraints, there was no way they would be careless enough again to give you an easy way back into the public.

From behind you, you heard the floorboard creak. Before you could whip around, a hand clamped on your nape.

“Care to explain what you’re doing, princess.”

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

One… or a few more dates.

warnings: none, just Jake being a sweetheart.

summary: the first three dates

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

First Date:

I was sitting in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck. We had just left the Italian restaurant where he took me for dinner. I couldn’t deny I was having a great time; the blonde was a total gentleman and incredibly handsome—and hot. We were listening to his country music playlist while he told me about his life before Top Gun.

“See? Letting me take you to dinner wasn’t such a bad idea,” he said, glancing over at me with a smile.

“I have to admit, you’re not the fool I thought you were,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I’m a lot more than what Chicken ‘Silly Mustache’ Bradshaw can tell you,” he added with a laugh. “Totally worth promising to cover his tab for the week in exchange for your number.”

We both laughed, and I shook my head.

“Oh, he’ll pay for it, trust me,” I said, grinning. “Bradley’s like the brother I never had. I’m glad he’s back. When we were kids, we’d spend summers together. His mom used to take us to the bay to teach us how to swim.”

“Good thing you like the beach because that’s where I’m planning to take you next time,” Jake said, adjusting his grip on the wheel.

“Who says there’ll be a next time?” I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms.

“You didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, sweetheart. I’ve already got several plans for us.”

“Let me guess, taking me to the beach is part of your perfect plan to get into my pants?”

“Come on, I think I’ve already proven I’m more than that,” he said, faking offense. “Though, if it happens, I wouldn’t complain.”

I burst out laughing and playfully hit his chest.

“And what exactly are we going to do at the beach?” I asked.

“We could have a nice picnic, get some sun, and watch the sunset.”

“Who would’ve thought Hangman was a romantic?”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me, darlin’. And I’d love to know everything about you,” he said, flashing that damn gorgeous smile.

Second Date:

A few days after our dinner, Jake picked me up, fully prepared for our beach picnic. The day was perfect, and who would’ve thought the pilot could plan such a flawless picnic? He brought an umbrella, a blanket, burgers, fries, beers, and sodas.

We talked while we ate. Jake told me about his high school football games, and I shared stories about constantly changing schools because of my dad’s reassignments. Every time his hand brushed against mine, it felt like a jolt of electricity. It even seemed like he was hesitant to touch me, but through his sunglasses, I could catch him sneaking glances at my chest more than once.

After swimming for a while and competing to see who could find the most seashells, the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of purple and orange. It was breathtaking.

“So, what’s next?” I asked, taking a sip of my beer.

“Next what?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows. His abs were even more defined, and I had to try hard not to stare.

“You said you had several plans for me,” I said, crossing my legs. “What’s next?”

“So, you do enjoy spending time with me,” he laughed, opening his beer. “Tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take you.”

“Even if I want you to take me up in your plane?” I teased.

“I think your dad would kill me,” he said, laughing and sitting up straight. “But I could take you somewhere similar.”

“Similar? Now I’m curious.”

The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully. We kept talking and getting to know each other. I could see him glancing at my lips, as if he wanted to kiss me—which, for the record, wouldn’t have been a bad idea.

“Thanks for everything, Jake. I really had a great time,” I said when we arrived at my house.

“The pleasure’s all mine, darlin’,” he replied, smiling. God, this man was charming. “Is it too soon to ask for a goodnight kiss?”

I smiled playfully, leaned in—he was standing a step below me—and kissed the corner of his lips, teasing him.

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

Third Date:

“So, this is your idea of something similar to flying?” I asked as he opened the door of his truck. We were at the pier fair, surrounded by the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, mixed with the music and the screams of people on the rides.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like amusement rides. The adrenaline, the screams, the laughs—it’s the best,” Jake said, gently placing a hand on my back as he guided me to the ticket booth. He bought two tickets before I could even pull out some cash.

“Seriously? You’re not going to let me pay for anything?” I asked as he handed the cashier his money.

“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me,” he said, grinning.

The day at the fair was a blast. We went on almost every ride, played bumper cars, marbles, and paintball, and stuffed ourselves with popcorn, hot dogs, and cotton candy.

“Hold still, you’ve got…” Jake said, leaning in to wipe something off the corner of my lips with his thumb. “There. All set.”

God, this man was starting to get to me. I felt butterflies in my stomach every time he touched me.

“Thanks again for everything, Jake,” I said as we walked toward the exit, my shoulder brushing against his arm. He even had the perfect height. “I’ve had so much fun with you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replied, opening the truck door and helping me climb in.

The drive home was quiet but comforting. We listened to his country playlist until a Taylor Swift song came on.

“No way,” I said, laughing. “You like Taylor Swift?”

“I don’t know how that got in there,” he said, shaking his head and reaching for the console to change it.

“Don’t. Leave it,” I said, stopping his hand. “I like that song.”

Instead of pulling away, he took my hand and kissed my knuckles. And there were the butterflies again…

I could feel my cheeks heating up, and Jake seemed to notice too.

“Well, would you look at that? You’re blushing,” he teased.

“Stop,” I whispered, rolling my eyes and looking out the window.

“You’re really something, Y/N,” Jake added, placing his hand gently on my thigh and rubbing it affectionately before turning his eyes back to the road. Without thinking, I placed my hand over his, mirroring his gesture.

When we arrived at my house, he asked for a goodnight kiss again, and I repeated the same thing as the last time—kissing the corner of his lips.

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight, darlin’.”

[starrihan]

Higher Than Heaven (Yeonjun Fic)

→ Pairing: Yeonjun x afab! Reader

→ Plot: a group project is the last thing you want for your midterm, but working with the student who smokes makes it 10x worse

→ Genre: smut, tiny tiny bit of angst, protection (yes!!), kissing, hickeys, piv sex, reader is judgmental + hates smoking, swearing (Imk if i missed any!!)

→ Warnings: smoking, mentions of food, joke about dead grandparents

→ Word Count: 7,746

→ Notes: hey guys! This is the first fic of my Sanctuary Series! For more information about the series I would recommend going to this post here!I just want to clarify that I do not share the same views as the reader does in this fic, it was purely for plot purposes! Hope you enjoy pt 1 of the series 😚

༄ ༄ ༄

You were always a goodie two-shoes. Perfect attendance, good grades, class president, the story writes itself. You grew up playing different instruments and were always enrolled in a sport or after-school club to keep yourself busy and your portfolio reflecting nothing less than perfection. So how did you go from valedictorian and class president of your high school to a college student who is on the verge or dropping out? 

The amount of work you’d allowed to accumulate over the past few weeks was enough to scare even the professors, making them question whether they actually assigned that much work. You could feel your grays coming in at the sight of all your work, exhaling as you decide to tackle the easy assignments first. 

It’s the middle of the day on a Thursday. You had a couple of assignments due tomorrow night that you absolutely could not afford to push off any longer. You had already asked for extensions on most of your assignments so far and you didn’t know how many more dead grandparents you could have before your professors questioned the validity of your failed punctuality when it came to turning in your assignments on time. You had class at 3 p.m, giving you a good two and half hours to get some work done. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You pack up your belongings as the clock strikes 2:30 p.m. You had gotten a couple of your easy assignments done, though it was very taxing to say the least. You make your way to your class, bundling up as the cold was brutal enough to warrant a cancelation, though, your university would never do that (speaking from experience because wdym its 2℉ out and i have to walk to class when theres black ice on the ground??).

You make it to your class about 15 minutes later, shivering from being cold yet sweating due to the many layers you had on. You take a seat next to your best friend, who had gotten there before you and saved your seat. 

“Can we go get food after class? I’ve had back to back classes and meetings all day and I’m starving.”

She drones on. You nod as you take out your laptop, waiting for the professor to start class. You’re prepared to mindlessly take notes for the next hour and half during lecture, but are pleasantly surprised when the professor doesn’t pull up the lecture slides. 

“Good afternoon class. I can all tell you guys are doing great so far.”

Her joke lands for some people, getting little chuckles and giggles from different corners of the lecture hall.

“Your midterms are a month away. I would normally give an exam for this class, but this year I have decided to switch it up. I have you all in pairs and you will be submitting a group assignment as your midterm. You will not be required to present but I will give you free reign on the design, layout and mode of presentation on the project meaning you can use any platform or software you would like to get the information across. I have sent you all emails with the name of the person you will be paired up with.”

You and friend look at each other and groan, knowing that the chance of you two being in a group is slim to none. Surely enough, you check your emails for your project partners.

“Who is Choi Yeonjun?” 

You ask, looking to your friend to see if she has any answers. She scans the room, presumably to see if he’s in class to point him out to you. 

“You see that kid in the middle row to the left? The one with the red hair? That’s him.

You look at the back of his head, sighing as you realize you don’t know this person and that this project is going to take a lot more time out of your busy schedule. 

“At least you’re not working with Choi Beomgyu. I heard he can be a handful.” 

Your friend rolls her eyes, burning holes in the back of the blonde boy's head, who happens to be sitting next to Yeonjun. You follow your eyes to see the boy, laughing at the irony of your partners sitting next to each other, just like their partners were. 

The rest of the class is drag, the growling of your stomach making it seem longer than it was as hunger consumes you. 

“Let’s go to the dining hall. I can’t afford to spend any more money on that overpriced cafe.”

Your friend says as you follow her out. It’s gotten pretty dark outside and there weren’t many students walking around in the cold. There were a couple of people here and there, probably walking back to their dorms after class. You two find yourself walking behind a person with their hood up, paying no mind to him until a cloud of smoke hits your face. Your audible groan at the smell of weed alerts his attention as he turns around and apologizes for smoking right in front of you. As he pulls his hood down, you recognize the tuft of bright red hair sitting on the top of his head. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you guys were behind me. I didn’t mean for the smoke to hit you.” 

‘Great,’ you thought. Not only did you have to work with a random stranger, but he also smokes publically on campus. You didn’t like smoking or people who smoked. You couldn’t understand why people do it or what joy butchering your throat and lungs could bring you. Your friend knew that about you and sensing your irritation, she speaks up for you, dismissing the incident on your behalf while you both walk ahead of him. 

As soon as you know that you’re far enough away from Yeonjun, you ask,

“Can we switch partners?”

Your friend snickers.

“If he smokes, I can almost assure you that his friend does too, so switching partners wouldn’t help.” 

You finally enter the dining hall, taking in the heated building before putting your stuff down in search of mediocre food. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You spend the next few days catching up on any missing work, putting the project aside since you still have a month left to do it. You decide to use Sunday as your rest day, drained from the assignments you were able to get done. You still had many assignments left to do, but you could only do so much work and you were already feeling burnt out. Doing more work wouldn’t be eventful in any way. 

You prepare for your day as normal, showering and throwing on a cute, weather appropriate, outfit as you make your way to the cafe on campus. You needed something better than the dining hall coffee for a change. You went there quite often, as you were high school friends with one of the baristas there. You smile as you spot him, walking up to the counter. 

“Taehyun! How’ve you been?”

The boy beams brightly at you, loving your cheerful spirit upon seeing him.

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you for a couple days! I’m good, how are you? And, do you want your usual?”

“I know, I’ve been busy and broke. But I’m doing alright, just catching up on all of my assignments. And yes please.”

“Oh, that’s good at least! Also we have a new employee that I’m training so it might take a minute to get your order. Is that okay?”

“Yeah of course! Take your time. Thank you!” 

You say, paying the balance of your meal and waiting at the end of the counter to get your food. You see a tall boy with red hair come out from the kitchen. You scoff to yourself as you recognize Yeonjun. ‘Of course he works here,’ you think. It takes him a couple of minutes to make your drink, still new to all the syrups and flavors that are available. As he finishes he calls out your name. 

“Y/N!” 

You walk up to him, remaining polite as you thank him for your order.

“Thank you.”

“Sorry if it took a while, it’s only my third day here.” 

“It’s okay, thank you for the food!” 

He stares at you and you’re about to grab your stuff and walk out, but he stops you.

“Wait, Y/N? Are you taking history 2204? With Professor X?” 

“Yeah?”

You feign ignorance, pretending not to know who he is. 

“Ah, I see. I’m Yeonjun. I think we’re partners for this project. It was nice to meet you.” 

He says as he smiles. You felt a little guilty about your prejudiced dislike towards him. He seemed nice enough, so what if he smokes? And you couldn’t lie to yourself, finding his smile and crinkled eyes cute.

“Oh yeah! It’s nice to meet you too!” 

“Can I give you my number? So we can discuss what days work for us to meet up and work on the project?” 

You nod as you hand him your phone. You watch as he types away his number, smiling as he hands it back to you.

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I’ll text you my schedule and we can figure out what works then.” 

He wished you a good day and you smile, finding his manners charming. 

༄ ༄ ༄

A week had passed since you met Yeonjun at the cafe. You were officially back on track as you submitted the last of your missing assignments the night before, finally being able to focus your time and energy on this project. You had yet to message Yeonjun and you didn’t know why you were nervous to text him. You didn’t want to start off the messages awkwardly so you went with a simple yet forward message to start the conversation.

“Hey! This is Y/N from history class. You gave me your number last week at the cafe.”

You release the breath you were subconsciously holding, hitting ‘send’ and waiting for a response. You didn’t want it to seem like you were glued to your phone, waiting for him to message you back so you bide your time by doing other things around your space. Cleaning up your desk, putting away your clothes, etc. 

You hear your phone go off, waiting a couple minutes to check who the message is from. You groan when it’s just one of your friends asking if you wanted to hang out later. You replied ‘sure,’ and went back to doing anything you could occupy yourself. 

It had been a couple of hours since you messaged him and still no response. Now pissed that he hadn’t yet gotten back to you, you decided to get ready to go out with your friends. There was a party at a bar on campus and you allowed yourself to go out as a reward for completing all your assignments. Putting on some light makeup, you chose a rather revealing outfit despite the winter weather, assuming that it was probably going to be hot in the bar. 

You met your friends there and all started with some drinks. You were talking about your days, just checking up on them. You had all been so busy with midterms coming up that you barely had time to hang out. After having about two more drinks, your friends dragged you onto the floor, dancing to whatever music the band was playing. 

“Y/N!!” 

You hear your name being called and turned around to find the source of the noise. You spot Taehyun and instantly your mood brightens up. 

“Taehyun! I didn’t know you’d be here!” 

“I wasn’t planning on coming but my friend asked me to come with him. I think you’ve met him before, Yeonjun? He’s the one that made your order a week ago.” 

You grimace upon hearing his name. At first, you cut him some slack because he seemed nice enough. You felt guilty about judging him because he smoked. But after not messaging you all day and then hearing that he was at this party, you went back on your word, the idea of disliking him appealing to you again. 

“Oh yeah, I know him. I remember meeting him last week.” 

You say, emotionless. 

“I want you to meet him again. And my other friends too, they’re all cool so I think you’ll like them.” 

You trusted Taehyun so maybe you had to hold off on your hatred a little longer. Though you were good at using your words, your expression and body language always failed you, never being able to hide your negative emotions. 

“These are my friends, Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu and Kai.” 

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Y/N!” 

“Ah yes, we’ve heard a lot about you. Taehyun told us how you guys were best friends in high school.” 

Soobin said, his tall frame and black hair are easy on the eyes. 

“Yeah, me and Terry go way back! It feels like we met just a year ago but it’s already been 7 years”

You say, laughing. Yeonjun chuckles at your comment, sipping at his beer. 

“It’s nice to formally meet you Y/N. And I like your outfit, it suits you.” 

You stare towards him is cold but your cheeks betray you, heating up at his compliment towards your outfit. 

“Thank you…” 

Your night goes on, hopping between your friend group and Taehyun and his friends. One by one, they all start to leave as you’re left with one of your friends, Taehyun and Yeonjun. You introduce them all to each other and stay at the party for a little longer before deciding to leave. 

“I think I’m going to head back, Y/N. I’m tired and I have classes back to back tomorrow,” 

Your friend says, gathering her things.

“Alright but you can’t walk back by yourself? It’s too dark and you know how dangerous it can be.” 

You look around, trying to find a solution so that your friend doesn’t go back by herself. 

“Taehyun! You live on this side of campus right? Can you walk back with her?”

Taehyun looks to your friend, who’s blushing a little as you try to help her out. 

“Yeah sure but, what about you? You live on the opposite side so what are you gonna do?” 

“I can walk her back. I live around there anyways. It would be no trouble, really.” 

Yeonjun says, smiling as his eyes disappear. You mentally curse yourself for being left with Yeonjun, even though there was nothing else you can do about it. You all nod and go your separate ways, Taehyun with your friend and you with Yeonjun. 

On your walk back to your dorm, Yeonjun fishes a lighter out of his pocket, using it to light the joint that was in his other hand. Taking a drag, you immediately smell the inebriating plant and walk faster. He can sense something off between the two of you, the tension weighing down the atmosphere. 

“Did I do something to upset you? It just… seems like you don’t like me or don’t want me around?” 

You stop in your tracks, having been walking in front of him this entire time and turn around to face him. You exhale loudly before starting:

“First of all, I was not in the best state when the professor announced we were working in random pairs for this project. Not really your fault but then I’m walking behind you as we leave class and you’re smoking! Let alone, the smoke blows into my face and I hate smoking, let alone people who smoke. Then I met you at the cafe and you seemed really nice so I gave you the benefit of the doubt and thought that maybe I judged you too quickly and then I felt guilty. But then this morning, I text you and you left me on delivered all day and then I find you here, at this party and now you’re walking me back to my dorm. So yeah, you can say I’m not really fond of you.” 

You huff, the feeling of letting all of that off your chest almost euphoric. He puts his hand with the joint down next to him, taking his phone and checking his messages, and found that you did in fact text him and he didn’t read it. 

“I’m sorry for not reading your message, I was busy all day and I’m not allowed to use my phone during work. And I do apologize for smoking in front of you, even though it blowing in your face isn’t my fault. But that’s it? I didn’t actually do anything to you, so what’s the judgment for? Why do you hate people who smoke?” 

You didn’t want to stand in the cold any longer, and you didn’t want to have this conversation either. Really, you were avoiding his gaze because you really did have no valid reason to hate him. He never actually did anything to you. But you couldn’t back down now, otherwise you’d be embarrassed. You just huff as you turn on your heel, walking in the direction of your door, the rest of the walk back remaining silent. 

He walks you up to your building. You feel your phone ding, grabbing it from your pocket to check the notification. 

“I sent you my schedule. Let’s get this project done as quickly as we can so we don’t have to see each other again.” 

You hang your head low, guilt hitting you like a truck at the sight of an upset and hurt Yeonjun waiting for you to walk in. Even though you told him that you didn’t like him straight to his face, he still had the courtesy of waiting for you to enter your building so he can say he waited until you were safe to leave. You look back at him one last time, feeling worse than before as you run in and take the stairs up to your room. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You stare at Yeonjun’s schedule that sits in your messages, debating on whether or not you should ask your professor if you could work alone. You’re seriously contemplating it but ultimately decide that you should at least fix whatever you started, as it would be unfair to Yeonjun to leave him to do the project alone, though after your encounter last night, you’re sure he would appreciate not being your partner anymore. 

“Hey. I’m free this weekend if you are to work on the project.”

His reply is almost immediate, like he had been waiting for you to text him back. 

“Yeah, I’m free this weekend as well. Time and place?”

“Would you be comfortable coming over to my dorm at like 12 o’clock tomorrow? I want to apologize for the things I said and the way I acted…”

You bite your lip as you send the message, waiting for the rejection message to pop up.

“Sounds cool. I’ll see you at 12 tmr.”

No rejection? You were utterly surprised at this chance of redemption though, a little taken aback at how nonchalant he sounded. You lived in a single dorm so cleaning up wasn't that bad. You made sure to have plenty of snacks and drinks stocked in your mini fridge and made a little cozy corner for him to work in, while you would sit at your desk. You even made sure to text Taehyun and to ask what Yeonjun’s favorite drink was so you could have it ready for him when he arrived. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You woke up early in the morning, getting ready for the day as you make your way to the cafe to pick up the drinks you had ordered for both yourself and Yeonjun. 

“Hey Taehyun! Do you have those drinks ready for me?”

“Hey! Yeah I do. I have your usual and an iced americano for Yeonjun!”

The boy says, big eyes gleaming as he hands you the drinks. 

“Thank you! I’ll see you later!”

You didn’t tell him about the events that transpired after the party, and from the looks of it Yeonjun hadn't told him anything either. You say your goodbyes and make your way to a little pop-up event on your campus. They were selling cookies and cupcakes to support their club, so you thought it would be a nice gesture to buy you and Yeonjun both a cookie and a cupcake each. 

Struggling to open your door with all the treats in your hands, you manage to get inside of your room and put all your stuff down. You check the time to see that it’s only 11:30 a.m, relieved to see that you still had some time to yourself. 

You hear a knock on your door a little bit later. You had sent Yeonjun the details of your dorm room before he got there but were still startled by the knock. You compose yourself, nervously opening the door to see a blank-faced Yeonjun staring back at you, this time wearing a loose sweater that hangs off his shoulder on one side, gray sweats and black, thick framed glasses. 

“Hey Yeonjun. Come in, I have some things prepared.” 

He nods as he walks in, slipping off his shoes at the little welcome mat you have placed in front of the door. The dorm itself is pretty small, enough for one person but it could still comfortably afford a guest. 

“First of all, I want to start with a verbal apology. I’m sorry for being prejudiced against you based on your smoking habits. And I’m sorry for lashing out on you last night when you asked a valid question. I know it wasn’t your fault that the smoke blew into my face and I guess I was just anxious about this project and texting you that I didn’t even stop to think and consider the fact that you could’ve been busy and didn’t have time to check your phone. Secondly, I asked Taehyun what your favorite drink at the cafe was so I got you an iced americano, and a cookie and cupcake from the fundraiser one of the clubs on campus is having.” 

You shyly hand over the cup with his drink and the snacks that were packed into a little plastic box. He takes the snacks out of your hand and for the first time all week, you relax your shoulders as Yeonjun smiles, accepting your apology and finding it cute in the process. 

“Thank you Y/N. I know you don’t know me and I don’t know what your deal with hating smoking is, but I accept and appreciate the apology nonetheless. Shall we get started?” 

You nod as you instruct him to put his stuff down in the little workspace you created for him, a small throw pillow and fox blanket resting on the inflatable chair you had blown up for him to make use of. He chuckles at the cute setup, settling his stuff down and getting comfy to start working.

༄ ༄ ༄

Throughout your working session, you had some conversation here and there when things got boring or you ran into a particularly difficult part of the project. A couple hours into working you both decide to tap out, noticing the time and finding that you had been working for 6 hours straight. 

“Oh my god, it’s been 6 hours!” 

You say, surprised that you were able to focus on the same assignment for so long though, to your credit, it felt like many different assignments bundled into one. 

“Damn, I didn’t even notice how late it was. That wasn’t so bad actually.” 

Yeonjun says, getting up to stretch his legs, americano and snack box empty as you both refused to leave the room to eat lunch. He picked up his trash, throwing it in the garbage before returning to his corner, looking at you before asking you a question you didn’t think he’d ask:

“Would you ever try it? Smoking I mean?

You stare at him blankly. Your immediate answer was no. Smoking is bad for you, it can cause illness or death. But when you opened your mouth to answer, you didn’t expect this to come out: 

“Maybe one day?” 

You’re speechless yourself at your answer. You were so adamant on hating smoking and never wanting to try it. What about Yeonjun asking you made you change your answer? Was it the way he so confidently stood up to you last night? Or the way he walked you to your dorm despite learning about your true feelings for him at the time? Or the way you wanted him to find you different from the character you first gave off, the one that judged him for smoking in the first place? As if he could see the inner struggle etched onto your face he remarks,

“I thought you hated smoking? What makes you want to try it?” 

Your face heats up at your own silence, but you respond anyway.

“I do hate it. And I actually don’t want to try it. I don't know why I said that. But why do you smoke in the first place?” 

You ask, trying to change the subject to be towards him. Catching onto your little trick, he humors you. 

“It’s a relaxing way to unwind after a stressful day. Sit back, throw on a movie and take a couple hits and you’re there. Relaxed as can be with no other care in the world. You should try it, maybe then you won’t be as tightly wound.” 

You scoff at his little jab at you towards the end of his explanation. You couldn’t lie, with the way he was explaining it to you, the idea of smoking did sound very enticing. But nonetheless, you were willing to stand your ground on this topic, after all, this whole situation you were in with Yeonjun stemmed from your hatred towards smoking and you weren’t going to back down now. 

“As if. And I am not tightly wound, thank you very much. Maybe you can’t tell because you’re brain fried from all the weed you smoke.” 

Thinking your remark has granted you victory in this argument, Yeonjun smirks, offering you a challenge. 

“Try it. Prove me wrong that you won’t feel relaxed. That it won’t make you feel like a weight has been temporarily lifted off of you.” 

He reached down into his bag, pulling out a metal box and setting it on your desk. Upon clicking it open, the smell of weed immediately wafts through the room, filling your nose and causing you to cough slightly. 

“Do you mind not opening that up in my room? We’re not supposed to smoke in the dorms anyways!” 

You said, grabbing air freshener to dilute the smell of the weed. 

“Relax, it's fine. Plus the hall directors on this floor all do it too, so they won’t care.” 

You scoff as he takes a seat, carefully grinding the bud so as not to get any on your desk. He then fiddles with the contraption used to pack the weed into the paper, sealing it off after having packed it fully. 

“I’ll demonstrate how to do it and then you take a hit, okay?” 

You gulp nervously, teetering between the idea of kicking him out or waiting to see how this all plays out. Were you really going to get high because a cute boy challenged you? You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts as you see him flick open the lighter, the smell of burning paper replacing the smell of weed in your nose. He lets it burn for a while, opening your window in the process. 

“When you take a hit, blow out of the window otherwise you’ll set off the fire alarm.” 

You mock a smile as he laughs, bringing the joint up to his lips as he takes a small inhale. You watch as the fibers of the paper burn, the weed contents turning gray. You analyze the way he takes the hit and hold it in his throat for a second before slowly blowing the cloud of smoke out of the window. 

“Your turn.” 

He passes you the joint, as your clammy hands impatiently reach for it. You look at him one more time nervously, bringing the joint up to your mouth and inhaling. You don’t know how fast you ripped it, throat burning and violently coughing as Yeonjun scrambles in your fridge to bring you a bottle of water. You chug the water to stop your coughs, handing the joint back to him as you catch your breath. 

“Nothing about that was relaxing in any way.” 

“That’s because you did it too fast. Look, watch me. You slowly inhale, don’t let the feeling of it in your throat bother you otherwise you’ll start to cough.” 

You hold a little grudge in your stare, cursing at the fact that you were so easily convinced to try the one thing you spited and how your resolve crumbles so easily before your very eyes. You watch him bring the joint up to his lips again, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat before taking another hit. This time you watch how he holds it in his mouth, counting the seconds before he blows it out. 

“Think you got it this time?”

You take the joint from his hand, silently reassuring him that you’d be fine. You try again, this time slowly inhaling. Remember his words from just a few moments ago, you let the particles settle in your throat for a moment, slightly inhaling before releasing the breath, successfully blowing the smoke out of the window. You look up at Yeonjun with big eyes and a proud smile. 

“I still don’t feel relaxed.” 

“You will in about 3 more hits and 15 minutes.” 

You continue to pass the joint to each other, careful not to rip it too fast or inhale too much. You can feel your eyes start to get a little droopy, a constant smile appearing on your face as you feel your body loosen. You feel slower but not heavy as you turn to Yeonjun and start giggling. 

“I can tell that you’re starting to feel it now. Gonna tell me you don’t feel relaxed?” 

You nod, giggling at his smile. The longer you stare at him, the cuter you think he is. Even in your high state, you couldn’t blame the weed for the attraction you felt for the red-haired man. Maybe you were starting to form a little crush. You think about the sweater he’s wearing, how his neck and collarbone are so perfectly on display, longing to be nipped at. Or the way the glasses make him look more sophisticated and smart, you did like nerdy looking boys. And the way his thick lips wrapped around the joint, eyes following his every move as he takes another drag. You couldn’t help the way you were rubbing your thighs together, the idea of his lips on yours creating a need to form within you. He looks at you, dumbfounded as he himself is now high as well. 

“How are you feeling Y/N? Do you feel good? Do you feel relaxed?” 

This time, you could blame the weed for what you say next:

“I feel great. I would feel even better if you kissed me.”

You laugh at your own comment, finding Yeonjun’s shocked expression priceless and thus further causing you to laugh. You allowed yourself to be bold, not knowing when again you’d have this opportunity. 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Y/N. You’re high right now and so am I. Neither of our judgments can be trusted right now.” 

He tries to play the mature, responsible role. He was the one that got you high so he felt responsible for any and all actions made by you or towards you by himself. But the slight, ever-growing tent in his pants was giving him away, revealing that he was not as grounded in his resolve as he wanted to be.

“What? You don’t believe me? Should I prove it to you?”

You take his previous words of challenge and use it against him, playing him at his own game. You walk up to him slowly, eyes red and droopy as you stare into his. You place your hand on his chest, tippy toeing to try to reach up to his lips. 

“Help me out a little?” 

As if all rhyme and reason was thrown out the window, Yeonjun doesn’t hesitate to lean down, capturing your lips with his own. He throws one arm around your waist, the other carefully holding the joint so as not to get any ash over your floor. Your hands remain on his chest as your lips move slowly in sync, breaths heavy from the temporarily shortened capacity of your lungs. You still feel a burn every time you inhale, but it’s worth it for the way Yeonjun has you feeling right now; completely relaxed and carefree. 

He pulls away for a second, grabbing your hand with his free one and placing the joint in between your lips, guiding you to take a hit before he puts it in the metal box with his other weed essentials. His eyes watch you in awe as you close your eyes to take the hit. He pulls you onto his lap as he takes a seat on your desk chair and you happily follow, hands around the nape of his neck as you play with the hairs there. You take your time holding the smoke in and he kisses you again, running his hands along your sides, squeezing as you gasp, letting the smoke out from your mouth into his. He takes the opportunity to gently slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan at the contact, grinding down a bit into his thigh. Your mouth is dry, partly due to the cotton mouth you're experiencing, and partly due to the nerves that had worked their way into your body when you decided to be bold and admit to wanting to kiss him. 

He licks the inside of your mouth before pulling away a little to suck on your tongue, teeth grazing it as he pulls away to trails kisses down your jaw and neck. You’re panting out of breath at his actions, the wetness between your legs only growing as you feel his hard-on press against the side of your thigh. You giggle as he nips a particularly ticklish spot on your neck, the effects of the weed present and causing him to giggle as well. 

“Can I kiss your neck?” 

“Well when you ask so nicely…”

He laughs, pulling away from your neck and tilting his head to the side, granting you permission to mark him up. You lean down, lightly nipping at his milky skin, biting around the area of his collarbones and he rests his hands on your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thigh. Your little whimpers at the contact only turn him on more, hard cock throbbing against his sweats as you eye the clear outline of them. Pulling back to look at your little marks, you’re satisfied as you pull him into your lips once again, this time more hungry. His hands that were settled on your hips move to grab your ass, squeezing as he presses you down harder on his thigh. Your moans are drowned out by his lips as the makeout becomes heavier and messier, saliva escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping down your chin. He pulls away first, admiring your red and puffy lips with a dazed smile. He stands you up, grabbing the joint and taking a big hit, holding it as his hands sweetly caress your face and he gives you another kiss, letting the smoke cascade into your mouth as you try your best to inhale and not choke. He smirks watching the excess smoke slip between your mouths, putting down the remainder of the joint and feeling you up underneath your shirt. 

“No bra?”

“I was in here all day. There was no need for it.”

You respond simply, taking a step back to fully take your shirt off, giggling as you watch his eyes open dramatically at the sight of your bare tits, nipples hardened as a result of the cold air. He pushes you against your desk, leaning you back over it as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, not even bothering to get you both on the bed. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud. You moan at the contact, harshly gripping his hair as he grazed his teeth against them. He takes the chance to slide his hands down the waistband of your pants, settling just above your pussy. 

“Yeonjun…” 

Your whimpers turn him on further as he begins rubbing circles on your clit through your panties and you throw your head back at the sheer amount of pleasure you’re feeling at the moment. He switches his attention from one nipple to the other, trading his fingers up and down your slit, feeling the wetness collect on the fabric separating his fingers from your heat. You don’t realize your grip has gotten impossibly tighter, accidentally pushing his head further into your chest, not that he minded. 

“You’re rough, I like it.” 

He pulls his head away from your chest and you whine at the loss of contact, the warmth his hold brought you being replaced by the cooling of his saliva all over your boobs. He pulls you close enough to him to help you take off your pants and underwear, sitting you back down on your desk as he admires your glistening lips, sliding down both his sweats and his boxers. 

He goes over to his bag and pulls out a condom before rolling it on to his painfully hard erection. 

“You just carry condoms on you at all times?”

“It came in handy, didn’t it?” 

He smirks at your failed attempt at being snarky, grabbing your waist as he slides the head between your folds. Your arms rest on his shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as the other twiddles with the necklace he has on.  

“You tease too much…” 

Yeonjun guides you back and forth on his dick, relishing in the little yet satisfying pleasure he’s giving himself right now. One hand rests on your pelvis, thumb reaching down to circle your clit as you hiss, biting your lip to suppress the moan you desperately want to let out. 

“Please Yeonjun…” 

Your begging only made it harder for him to resist you, slowly bringing the head down to your sopping entrance, groaning as he pushes it past your walls.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Gotta stretch you out on my cock.”

You wince as he pushes himself in deeper, releasing a sigh of content as he fully sheathes himself inside you. He keeps his thumb on your clit, the speed of his actions constant. 

“Y-you can move now…” 

He moves slowly, still letting you adjust before moving at a more constant pace. You’re mindful of the moans pushing past your open lips, finding it hard to contain them as he sets a firm rhythm. You look down beside you and pick up what’s left of the joint. Yeonjun takes note of your actions, holding you steady with both of his hands as you grab the lighter to reignite the substance. You bring it to your lips once again, letting the effect of the weed wash over you, reveling in the heightened effect of the drug. 

You hold the joint up to Yeonjun’s mouth, smiling lazily as he takes a hit, his hips never stopping their relentless pounding into your pussy. He attaches his lips to your neck once again allowing the smoke to escape and you to stabilize yourself while his thumb goes back to circling your clit, this time much faster than before. He also speeds up thrusts, the volume of your moans increasing as his harsh thrusts knock the desk back into the wall over and over again. You’re afraid of the amount of noise you’re making, worried about whether or not your neighbors can hear the scandalous sounds coming from your room, but all worry flies out the window when Yeonjun leans you back, bringing your hips up to a whole new angle for him. 

“Yeonjun!!” 

You scream as his tip hits your spot so deliciously, legs wrapping around him, pulling him that much closer. He chuckles as your face scrunches up, indicative of your close release. He can’t help but to move faster, pistoning his hips at an incredible speed, one that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as a gush of liquid comes rushing out of you. 

“Yeah that’s it, squirt all over my cock for me. Let it all out…” 

You’re so high that you barely even register the fact that you just squirted all over him, creating a mess on your floor. Your feelings only seem to intensify as the overstimulation kicks in, sensitive walls clenching down on him as your second orgasm approaches you quickly, his fingers still working your clit. 

“I’m… I’m gonna cum again… Y-yeonjun please…” 

Your whines come out broken and sporadic, not sure how much more you can take. 

“Hold on for me a little longer baby, I’m almost there.” 

You nod as you pull his head back down to you, kissing him one last time as he nails his final thrust, hips stilling in you as he feels himself fill the condom. Your pants and sighs fill the now smokey room. 

“I didn’t know you could squirt like that baby girl. You’re so fucking hot”

He carefully pulls out of you, making sure not to let any cum seep out of the condom. You wince as he pulls out, legs feeling like jelly as you release him from your hold. After discarding the condom, he quickly reaches for the napkins you have sitting on top of the fridge, cleaning you up before kneeling on the cold floor to wipe up any remnants of your release. 

“You look good when you’re on your knees,”

You say playfully, biting your lip as you watch him clean your floor. 

“I was right.” 

Your head feels empty and you’re slightly tingly. The high you were having definitely intensified the feeling you were having during sex but it did nothing to help jog your memory. 

“What are you talking about” 

“Have you already forgotten”

You shrug as you jump off the desk, using his shoulder to help ground yourself as your legs recover from their jelly-like state and proceed to put your clothes back on. 

“I told you that smoking would help you feel more relaxed. I guess in your case it also helped you be more bold.” 

Your usual eye roll was replaced by a giggle. 

“Did I really say that? I guess I had no idea what I was talking about?” 

He laughs with you as he finishes cleaning the floor, pulling his pants back on before putting his weed materials away, shirtless. 

You keep staring at him, realizing that you were too high and too needy to notice his toned abs before. 

“I can send you a picture of them if you want? You don’t have to keep staring at me like that.” 

He pulls his sweater over his head to which you pout, upset that your view was now covered. 

“Relax, you’ll see them again the next time we do this.” 

“Next time?” 

You couldn’t say that you hated the feeling of being high, but maybe you weren’t in the right mind to be making decisions like that. 

“Yeah? Next time we work on the project we can get high and do this again. It was fun.” 

He puts his stuff away in his bag, leaving it on your inflatable chair. He wasn’t just gonna leave you after fucking you whilst you were still high. 

“We got a pretty good portion of the project done today. We don’t even have to meet up to finish out individual parts.” 

You say, reminding him about your 6 hour grind to finish as much of the project as you could. 

“What are you trying to say?” 

He says while fixing his glasses and hair in your mirror.

“I’m saying the next time we meet we don’t have to do work.”

He makes eye contact with you through the mirror, his smirk hard to hide at your insinuation.

“You dirty girl. So bold when you’re high, only want me over to have sex.” 

“Well… to have sex and get high! I do enjoy your presence but I’ve never felt so good before. That was like heaven.” 

Even though he didn’t know you that well, he could tell the effects of the weed were still strong on you, watching you yap away, knowing you probably won’t remember this conversation in the morning. He just laughs at your comment as you put your stuff away. 

You watch as he goes back to his seat, moving his bag back to the floor. You walk up to him, sitting down on his lap. You tangle your fingers in his hair, staring at his lips again, which are also swollen. His eyes follow your gaze and he throws his head back in laughter, scaring you a little as you flinch at unexpected sound. 

“You’re still horny?” 

“What makes you say that?”

You play dumb as if you weren’t just drooling over his lips. 

“But we just put our clothes back on!” 

He whines, fixing your position so that you’re properly straddling him. 

“Yeah but, you aren’t gonna reject me right? Not when I’m high and needy because of you?” 

You feign your best soft voice and puppy eyes, trying your best to hold back from laughing in his face at your own antics. Yeonjun takes your face in his hand, giving you a sweet smile.

“No of course not, that would make me a monster.”

He says, pulling you back in for another kiss as you settle in. Maybe smoking a little bit of weed wasn’t so bad after all.