#it's slowly becoming one of my all time favourite series

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Be My Favourite ep 9

This was another fantastic ep, and the only thing preventing me from saying it topped last week’s again is that there was NO MAX! 😮

BUT there was so much more character development.

First, Pearmai, because I wrote last week that I was curious about her backstory, especially her relationship with her mother. And we got to know this week already.

We got confirmation that Pear holds things in, hides them, and masks her true thoughts and feelings. She’s carried the hurt of her mother’s abandonment for so long, whilst her mother doesn’t see the harm she’s done and her father expects her to be ok with it all.

And now I understand why Pear desires marriage and a ‘future’ with someone so much – she wants to build the life for her own children that she never got herself. She wants to have the relationship her parents didn’t have, and wants to have the mother/daughter relationship she never got. (This is something I identify with so if the show doesn’t explicitly tell us this, I can’t help but to read it this way because it’s all too familiar for me).

I loved the way that her mother’s obliviousness to the way Pear feels is reflected in their clothes and art – with them both in black and white, opposites devoid of colour and life, whilst her artwork is FULL of colour, so much so that’s it’s pushing out from the canvas. It’s no surprise Pear feels the way she does in the face of her mother’s freedom and creativity and life – a life chosen at the expense of being a mother to her own daughter. Maybe Pear needs to either find reconciliation with her or to close the door to her in order to have happiness in the future?

I thought Pear’s reaction to Kawi, after learning from Not and then Pisaeng that he and Pisaeng were together, was a little disproportionate – she and Kawi weren’t dating, they were just friends. She may have been developing affection for him (or latching onto the next guy who showed her affection) and thought that he liked her and that they were on their way to dating, BUT they still weren’t together for this to be like Kawi went behind her back or cheated on her.

My interpretation is that this reaction could be a front to her real (maybe subconscious) feelings – disappointment that her future prospects at having the family she wants has disappeared again. I think that unless she can learn and grow from this and her relationship with her mother, she will just latch on to the next person who shows interest in her. I admit, I was afraid that she would do this with Not – we had seen in ep 7 that she eventually did do this in another timeline – but I’m so glad she walked away from him, deciding that if her future isn’t Pisaeng, or Kawi, it definitely wouldn’t be Not. Not in this timeline. And I think this does indicate that something has changed for Pear now. Maybe wanting to talk to Pisaeng about him and Kawi and therefore confiding in him about her mother as well has helped her shift her motivations behind her choices.

Some other smaller thoughts before I get onto Kawi:

At first, I was worried the show was transferring the drinking problem to Pisaeng…but I don’t think it is, because it seems that this occasion was him trying to protect Kawi. I don’t really like all this peer pressure to drink alcohol…but I’m also aware that it could be a cultural politeness thing, but it needs doing away with.

I ADORED the “Kawi, Kawi, Kawi” moment – has anyone gif'd the parallel to “Lao Wen, Lao Wen, Lao Wen” yet?! Paging @forcebook

Also, Pisaeng has a brown phone case?! Kawi’s colour! How have I not noticed this before?! @respectthepetty did you already know? If not, PSA: more colour-coded phone cases!

I’m not sure I like Kawi holding back or pushing Pisaeng’s affections away. He declared he liked Pisaeng and couldn’t bear to be wthout him but it feels like he’s not showing enough affection to reflect that. (It’s bordering on the blushing maiden trope which I detest). Maybe this is Krist’s own discomfort…? Or just that he’s been directed like that (because the directing so far has been brilliant), which is disappointing because I’d hoped the story wouldn’t do this to these characters. It’s good, at least, that Kawi tells us that he’s simping over Pisaeng and how attractive he is but I wish they would show us in Kawi’s body language and reactions to Pisaeng’s advances. Smh.

Right on to Kawi. And what a lot to unpack.

Speaking of the morning in bed scene and Kawi questioning if him and Pisaeng being together is “the right thing” – I’m glad it’s not about them being a gay couple (which the show emphasises a few times during the ep) but it’s not really any better that it’s in relation to theirs and everyone else’s future.

Kawi is still thinking about ‘fixing’ one moment in time, and for multiple people, rather than living in the moment and listening to his present desires (emphasis on both ‘his present desires’ and ‘his present desires’). At the end he worries about how many mistakes he will make in life (mistakes that affect others negatively) but he still needs to learn that he has no control over how other people are affected by his choices for himself. And that he can’t let that dictate the choices he does make, he has to let other people live their lives and he has to live his own. (@dimplesandfierceeyes wrote a great post related to this).

And as much as I’m shook about Kwan liking Not (as we all are), their situation perfectly highlights why Kawi needs to focus on himself and not others. Because as much as Kwan and Pearmai (and Not to some extent but we don’t care about him, right?) are hurting and unhappy now it’s SO GOOD that all of this has happened for these characters.

First we have Kwan. As much as this is hurting Kwan, she is being set free now instead of in 12 years' time. She is being saved from 12 years of hurt and pain and unrequited love. (Oh Kwan, beautiful Kwan. You’ll meet someone better. I PROMISE!) (Check out this fantastic reblog thread about Kwan by @lurkingshan, @jjsanguine and @twig-tea)

Then Pearmai. She’s hurting from her parents’ situation, and from the revelation about Kawi and Pisaeng, but she chooses to not just turn to Not. She turns him down and sets herself on a completely different path. She now has the time and opportunity to find love in another place (hopefully a happier one) and still get the family she wants.

(And Not, if I have to… This is good for Not too, because he gets to declare now [to himself as well as Kwan] that he likes Pearmai more than Kwan [and maybe other people he’s sleeping with], he’s being honest with himself and others [is that a bit of growth I see there? *she squints*]. And it’s fucking fantastic that Pearmai turns him down [not only because she deserves better] but because he can move on and maybe use this experience to change [the jury’s out on that for a while. As an aside, this ep made me retract slightly the thinking there might be a possibility that Not is also gay/bi and will also have his own realisation arc…but the show’s not over yet!]). Anyway, THIS IS GOOD. This is good for all of them.

Kawi thinks they’re all unhappy and it’s because of him, but he’s not able to see the full picture. There’s so much nuance in what they do want and what will make them happy that he can’t even begin to know or understand how his actions play a part in that. And the reality of it is, there are so many positives resulting from his actions as well. We already saw this in ep 8, where Max tells him he’s made a huge difference in his life. I love that Pisaeng gives Kawi hope and optimism for the future but I don’t think hope is enough, Kawi also needs to trust that the results of his actions are not always bad – it might take time but there are positives.

Last thing (because I know this is long!), I want to talk about this: “I will feel more comfortable if we are more equal”. I understand Kawi’s motivations here, he doesn’t want their relationship to be influenced too much by differences that could negatively affect them and their regard for each other – and financial disparity can be a sticking point for a lot of people - but accepting and leaning into the ways they aren’t equal is also healthy for a relationship. Each side can’t always bring the exact same things into a relationship. Balance can be found in other ways. I'm interested to know if this ‘theme’ comes back or gets built on in future eps.

And speaking of…it looks like next week’s will be fluffy and domestic where they settle into their couple dynamic. I can’t wait!

(also tagging @grapejuicegay @waitmyturtles @rocketturtle4 @ginnymoonbeam @chickenstrangers @wen-kexing-apologist @bengiyo @plantsarepeopletoo and @williamrikers in case you're interested! And sorry if I missed anyone.)

[princekirijo]

DMC 3 is such a good game I can see why it's a lot of people's favourite

[moonchild1]

 kim taehyung fic rec list (Ⅴ)

hello everyone i know it's been a while since i posted, work has been hectic, but i got some time and managed to finish a list so please enjoy i have a few lists ready to post so i'll que them up... here's my all time favourite taehyung fics, please show lots of love and support to these wonderful authors and their blogs, leave a heart, reblog or even leave a message or feedback under their posts i know they would appreciate hearing from you, some of these fics contain smut so no minors allowed you will be blocked ♡ feel free to recommend me some fics or just share what your reading right now i'd love hearing from you 🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

only here to sin by @gimmethatagustd s a ft. namjoon

When your genius of a boyfriend returns to Harvard for his sophomore year of college, you never would have expected to have his worst enemy keeping you entertained in his absence.

our gray winter by @vyduan s a ft. jjk

“Were you looking for this?” Taehyung asked as he handed you the box of tampons you always bought. He remembered. You wanted to sink into the floor and die. Instead, you recalled your manners and said, “Thanks.” You put the box in your basket. “I can’t believe you remembered.” He beamed at you. It was patently unfair how he could look all glowy and soft while you looked… not like that. “Of course, Y/N.” If possible, Taehyung’s voice dropped even lower. “I remember everything about you.”

schemes and tricks to win her heart by @crystaljins ft. ksj

Rich company heir Kim Seokjin has a plan to win the heart of the girl of his dreams, and you, his little brother’s best friend, are dragged along for the ride. His younger brother objects, of course.

camboy!tae by @hisunshiine f s a

Give me all of your love, gimme something to dream about. KTH is your favorite camboy, and as a loyal subscriber, you are chosen to test out some new features on the platform he uses to go live. He’s really good at selling his viewers a dream, and as a thanks to a new milemark he’s hit on the platform, he’s choosing one winner to get their fantasy scene. 

tolerate it by @archivedkookie s a

Taehyung is your husband, and you love him. If only he loved you back; if only he cherished your love and not tolerated it.

what was hidden by @daechwitatamic s a ft. myg

This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You're assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg's The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there's a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one's "true self" versus one's "shown self", darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

complete faith by @daechwitatamic

It’s Taehyung himself who admits that it’s usually around the one-month mark that he starts to lose interest in his relationships. So even though you’re so drawn to him you can barely stand it, even though he’s attentive and funny, even though you’re helplessly crazy about him… when you start dating, you feel like you’ve got an expiration date from day one. But will it be Taehyung’s issues that get in the way, or your own?

and they were roommates by @hoseok666 f s a ft. jjk

it all started with a rejection from your longtime crush, jeon jungkook. you decided to confess to him on your last day of high school. after a harsh rejection and a rough summer dealing with the heartbreak, you were starting anew once your freshman year of college came. you were going to be sharing an apartment with two other roommates that you don’t even know. what a surprise you’re going to be in for once you find out it’s the one and only: jeon jungkook and kim taehyung. 

with a brush of fate by @yoongiofmine f s a

Your roommate was sure she found you the perfect man. Her boyfriend believed he found Taehyung’s soulmate. The only problem was that you never wanted to date an idol and he never wanted to drag you into this life. Taehyung didn’t even know what he wanted anymore and was tired of being criticized for simply growing up. You just wanted to finish university and do something for yourself. What started out with the meddling of your friends became something neither of you expected. Could the two of you be what the other is missing? Or would things just fall apart?

groovy by @kinktae f s a

Even in the 70s, it goes without saying that you shouldn’t have feelings for your best friend’s little sister. 

tempting by @/kinktae s a

Y/N is an angel. She steers clear of the seven deadly sins, especially lust. She runs into a demon but, luckily for her, that demon doesn’t seem to buy into that whole “Angels and Demons are sworn enemies” idea. But unluckily for her, he just so happens to be the very embodiment of sin. Especially lust.

talk by @gukslut f s a

Finals week is kicking your ass, thank goodness you have a friend to help you relieve some stress. It’s a great arrangement, as long as no one finds out... as long as you don’t catch feelings. What could go wrong?

somebody to love by @cutechim

kim taehyung wins the heart of everyone he meets, and you—his self-proclaimed work “nemesis”—are not an exception.

tear you apart by @bratkook s

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear, ‘I wanna fucking tear you apart.’ demon au

clairevont by @/bratkook f s a ft. jjk

The second year of college starts off with a bang until you find yourself tangled in between your fuck buddy Kim Taehyung and his innocent room mate Jeon Jungkook.

free use by @littlemisskookie f s a

You tell your crush you want him to have full control of you in every way always. He obliges.

lost myth of truelove by @sugalaritae f s a

for six months you wait for him, a weekend spent together, finally able to reach the man your soul is tethered to.

because of you, blue by @ugh-yoongi f s a

nearly a year out from your breakup with taehyung, jin begs you for help saving his failing restaurant. the two of you aren’t exactly friends, but you feel some stupid sense of obligation and, really, what’s the worst that could happen?

true love by @jjkeverlast f s a

in which you're face to face with your ex again after 5 years, because both of your friends start dating each other.

obsidian by @kpopfanfictrash s a

The world of magic is divided into dark and light, witches and warlocks, choice and fate. You’re a prodigy of light, a witch who works within the police force. You’ve heard of Taehyung in passing, spoken in whispers as the warlock of dark who has the world holding it’s breath.  All this changes on the night you’re assigned as security for a mysterious singer named V and you come face to face with Taehyung himself. What happens after that might be fate.

baby, baby by @hobiwonder ft. pjm f s a

When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

entangled by @caelesjjk ft. jjk s a

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well. Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

buzzed by @junqkook f s a

maybe ordering a vibrator and letting your best friend open your mail wasn’t such a great idea.

queen cobra by @fantasybangtan f s a

when your boss offers the chance to take down the nation’s most lucrative gang from the inside out, you know you’ll do it no matter what the cost… even if that means entering an arranged marriage with the kingpin himself.

pulse by @rohobi f s a

You fell in love with Kim Taehyung during Medical School. Now living totally different lives in completely different hospitals, you're pulled together again as if by fate during a code black when someone plants a bomb in your hospital. 

things we don't say by @wintaerbaer f s a

Three years after graduating college, everything seems to be falling into place for you: stable job, cozy apartment, and a long-term boyfriend with a ring box hidden in his desk drawer. But when a mutual friend makes a remark that your best friend of nearly two decades is clearly in love with you, you realize that life may not be as simple as it seems.

mars by @to-star-lake s a

ahistorical au, military au, yandere!taehyung

satisy by @suga-kookiemonster f s a

 “listen,” taehyung says, eyes wide and eager as he smiles at you. “i figure we can just help each other out. i scratch your back, you scratch mine.” but when you find yourself suddenly in need of a massive favor, exactly how much scratching are you willing to do?

no kisses by @icedmatchatae f s a

It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.

beyond desire by @strwberrytae s a

it’s never easy falling for your best friend when you have so much history. it’s especially difficult when you both share the same sexual desires and lifestyle. taehyung is a dominant CEO of a well known company in Seoul and you are an up and coming editor. while both of you come from a troubled and dark past, you lean on each other for support and comfort. what happens as your feelings blossom and grow over the years? what happens when you fear taehyung may be falling in love with someone else? will you confess your feelings or remain in the shadows?

one-shot

crazy for you by @oddinary4bts f s a

 you’ve known Kim Taehyung your whole life. When you meet again at a party hosted by your best friend, alcohol looses your lips and you spill your secrets to your childhood crush. Will Taehyung give in to your desire, or will you be struck by remorse?

seventeen times 17 by @cutaepatootie f s a

You loved him Seventeen Times 17.

ten out of ten by @shadowkoo f s a

For the past three years, Kim Taehyung has made it his mission to annoy you relentlessly on campus, finding every possible way to drive you up the wall during your shared classes. However, as you both enter your senior year, something strange happens. Taehyung begins to sense a shift in his energy, realizing he might just have some secret feelings for you. What unfolds when you make this earth-shattering discovery too?

under wraps by @jungkxook f s

there’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

always the bridesmaid by @kookingtae f s a

When you first meet Kim Taehyung, you’re determined to find every reason you can to hate him—or maybe he’s just looking for ways to get on your last nerve. But when a turn of events has the two of you working the wedding of the man you’re hopelessly in love with, you’re too late to realize the real reason to hate Kim Taehyung is because of the latest column he’s secretly writing: “Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride”, and it’s all about you.

any way you want it by @noteguk s

in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

sharing is caring by @jjkpls f s ft. pjm

Taehyung is taken aback when his soulmate, Jimin, introduces his new girlfriend to him. Jimin tries to help them break the ice.

the end of all things (and the beginning of us) by @/kidguk f s a

the end of the world has come and passed, but there is still much to live for. there’s hope, there’s tomorrow, and there’s that guy you met while scavenging for supplies in an abandoned cinema. turns out he hates being alone, and the feeling is mutual.

aberrant by @kth1 f s

Meeting a handsome and rare fox hybrid was the last thing you had expected in a world of coexisting hybrids. What you also hadn’t expected was how this fox found a liking to you, showed up randomly at places where you were and next thing you knew - you were falling, hard, for the man.

lost in you by @/jjkeverlast f s a

the infamous kim taehyung, campus fuckboy and heartthrob is much more than you thought after an unexpected night.

the dinner date by @diortae f (ao3)

pretending to be on a date with your best friend to get a free meal at the fancy restaurant jeongguk works weekends at doesn’t sound so terrible, all things considered. there’s just one small problem: you’re pretty sure you’re in love with the aforementioned best friend.

until yesterday by @jimlingss f s a

You and Taehyung are hopeless as you are hopeless romantics. But five months after tying the knot and saying "I do", you're hospitalized after a car accident with him. But upon waking up, the doctors tell you that you don't have a husband.

the forsaken by @yoonia s a ft. knj

In order to save your people from the danger of drought and hunger, your father had sent you out on a mission across the ocean to find the heart of nature that could bring back the prosperity which your land had long lost. As the Chief’s daughter, you took the mission as your responsibility, even if you had to let the man that vexes you the most join you in your journey, even if you had to ignore the Elders’ warnings about the dangers and all the vicious monsters lying in wait.

blacklist by @httpjeon f s a ft. jjk

after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

1-800-music-street by @/httpjeon f s

↬you’re enchanted by a street performer and then he saves you, resulting in multiple meetings one can only describe as fate.

farner boy i love you by @strawberrynamjoon f s a

↬Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

waterloo by @/kinktae f s a

↬Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn't believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story. Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love."

get you the moon by @bymoonchild f s a

↬Life has its ways of fucking with you, but you know you’ve hit 50 feet below rock bottom after being tasked to do a profile feature on Kim Taehyung, the varsity football captain, for your school newspaper. Pure torment awaits you, but this is alongside glassy eyes, pink cheeks and conflicted feelings that you’ve never dared to imagine with the likes of the devil incarnate.

fate of the fast & furious by @prolixitae f s

↬you’re a first-generation college student and taehyung is the hot guy with a love for motorbikes who lands the job babysitting for your family while you’re away.

fast & fearless: what comes first by @/prolixitae

↬taehyung is used to earning his keep through illegal street races, and he’s got every reason to win that upcoming promise of prize money for an old friend. but when the odds don’t fall in his favor, he turns to babysitting. enter, you: a first-generation college student with too much to lose to be spending all your time with a troublemaking biker. who also happens to babysit for your kid brother.

cobalt blue by @hobivore s ft. jjk

↬you ask Jungkook to draw you like one of his French girls. 

let it snow by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬it all started by accident, but it continues by choice—even before you began sleeping together, things with your friend taehyung have always been comfortable and easy. simple, and this new arrangement between you is certainly no exception to that rule. well...that's definitely what you thought before a major snowstorm traps the two of you in his apartment over the holidays. now? now, it is quickly becoming apparent that things are a bit more complicated than you realized.

muse by @/suga-kookiemonster f s

↬this could finally be tae’s big break, but he’s nervous and struggling to find inspiration. luckily, you’re willing to support him in all ways necessary.

falling, falling gone by @johobi f

↬Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection. So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

new tricks by @geniuslab f s

↬When your newly adopted puppy turns out to be a lot more work than you expected, a cute dog trainer comes to the rescue. You soon become friends, but you begin to realize friendship might not be all you want.

guns & roses by @chateautae f s

↬he was cold-blooded, stone-faced and ruthless; a formidable force anyone in the criminal underworld sought to destroy. and he didn’t care, so long as it was never you.. anything but you.

saudade by @chateautae f s a

↬a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it's time to find out why.

strands by @xjoonchildx s a

↬taehyung can't figure out how he got separated from his men, or how he ended up stranded in these woods -- hurt. the only thing he knows is that he has no choice but to rely on the beautiful, secretive stranger who's found him.

cheap skate by @/gukslut f s

↬Who doesn’t know Taehyung and his lady? Cutest couple in town, I’d say, and have been since they started dating in their college days. Oh, that was a while ago, though. And still, they’re happy as can be in that place they have together. Almost hate seeing one without the other, y’know, it’s like seeing just one testi- oh, right, I’m not supposed to talk like that. Anyhoo, I only say that because I saw Taehyung at a jewelry store the other day while I was buying my sweet Jiminie his presents. Maybe that boy’s finally gonna pop the question, but I do hope he’s got a good plan for it. Something sweet and romantic. Maybe I’ll find out after Jiminie gets back from that cabin he’s visiting. 

definition of love by @taegularities f s a

↬When the gorgeous student from your literature class starts showing interest in you, you discover that there's much more to him than his know-it-all facade. But is this realization enough to get through your insecurities and secrets?

↬looking for other kth fics or the other members check out my library for more

[hier--soir]

a lover's pinch | two

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: will a complicated realisation drive you and joel apart, or drag you closer together? warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, some mildly gratuitous Classics chatter, some very gratuitous descriptions of joel's office, trope of being enamoured by your favourite teacher lol [and her fav isn't even joel, sorry guys], angst, a little manhandling, semi-public sex acts with a not-so-stranger, dirty talk, brief impact play, fingering, orgasm denial, oral [m!receiving], face fucking, facial, cum eating, sheeesh i think that's it okay i need a glass of cold water word count: 10.3k i'm not sorry series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: folks, this series has taken over my entire brain. i'm having the best time writing+outlining it, and i have been so delighted by how many people liked the first part. giving you all the biggest kiss through the screen right now. lmk what you think of part two! this is part two of ALP. you can read the previous part here: one.

Tuesday.

It’s as though a mirage resides in the periphery of your vision.

A wobbling, shimmering thing that offsets the centre of a picture and makes your eyes hurt until you want to close them. The type where you’re squinting and trying to see, trying to make out what’s happening, and people are turning to look at you and pointing and you realise that you aren’t wearing any pants, and it’s a dream, a dream, a nightmare, it’s not fucking real. Illusory. Fantasy.

It's a childish thought that you can’t help but be consumed by. The idea that this is all some cruel, fucked up delusion you’re about to wake up from. That it couldn’t be possible for the charming Texan you’d met four nights prior to be stood only a few metres in front of you, discussing your fucking syllabus. Reality becomes this twisting, writhing thing that is painful and awkward to comprehend, and everything slows to a liquid, dreamlike pace. His voice, his movement, the shifting of other students around you, all drifting by slowly, as if a year has passed in the span of ten seconds.

And yet when you pinch your arm—nails scraping across skin until raw red marks raise in jagged lines—and you don’t wake up, the mirage remains, your stomach rolls.

Joel looks so different here. What had been casual at the bar, a lob of messy hair above a cotton t-shirt, is now professional. Buttoned shirt tucked into pressed brown pants. Beard trimmed, and hair pushed back into soft, tidy waves that roll down to his neck. A set of glasses rest on the bridge of his nose. Square, with black frames that compliment his skin tone, and have your fingers gripping the edge of the desk, wondering why the hell he hadn’t been wearing them on Friday night when he sunk his mouth against your cunt. Dirty little thing.

You can still feel his hands on you, days later. Feel the rough scrape of calloused fingers on your thighs, between your legs. Remember how soft his hair was when you buried your fingers in it and held him against your aching core, whining his name. It had been like this all weekend; holding an image of his tan, handsome face in your mind, trying to emulate the feeling of his hand between your thighs with your own, only to fail over and over again.

And he’s talking. That low, honeyed drawl that tickles across your skin and drips into your ears, warming your insides. It’s a marvellous thing; the way he shifts easily from topic to topic, disarming the room with short, sharp—surprising—jokes sifted in between soft-spoken sentiments about classical academia and the university, and what he hopes you as individuals will gain from a postgraduate in this course, and it feels like it’s been both hours and seconds as you watch him breathlessly, waiting. Waiting for his eyes to skirt to your side of the room, to dance across your face and recognise you, remember you, just as he said he would. 

Joel is talking about The Aeneid when he finally notices you.  

“I want you to be thinking about language,” he’s saying. “And tone. Virgil and Homer’s writing differs in a lotta ways, but it does share that same character of irony. Don’t forget that Virgil wrote during the Golden Age of the Roman Empire – and he’s presenting us with a story about destiny, about fate. Our focus here isn’t so much about love, or reverence, as it is about tragedy – no one in The Aeneid is safe from what their own fate lays out for them. All of these calamities and heartbreaks are necessary for the empire to thrive.”

He pauses. “Take Dido in book four as a prime example. In the openin’ lines of her story, if we’re looking to the West translation; she is suffering from love’s deadly wound, feeding it with her blood and being consumed by its hidden fire. We know from the beginnin’, that her love for Aeneas will be her downfall; that her death is essential for him to leave Carthage. And on that same page, talkin’ about Aeneas, we get, oh how cruelly he has been hounded by the Fates. This is what you need to think about if you’re gonna get to the bottom of Virgil’s bigger plan with these books. Why is he using this language? These words? I want—” 

Joel inhales sharply, dark eyes frozen on your face, which grows steadily warmer beneath his scrutiny. His body doesn’t move, hands hovering in the air mid-gesticulation, lips parted as his next words rest there, caught on his tongue. You swallow thickly. Feel sweat form on your hairline. The silence stretches, dead air giving rise to confused murmurs across the room, and your eyes widen, willing him to look away and continue; to do anything except stand there and keep looking at you like that. But it’s like he’s in a trance. Tan face dimming to a sickly, pallid colour, shoulders shifting as he breaths deeply. Staring.

A few heads turn in your direction, but you can’t bring yourself to look back at them; to snatch yourself away from the feeling of being held in his gaze again. It’s intoxicating—almost euphoric—to have those dark eyes on your skin.

And then it’s over, the moment severed as Joel’s eyes snap away and he clears his throat, offering a pained smile to the rest of the room. And he’s apologising, Lost my train of thought for a moment there, using a playful tone of voice as he says, first day of the semester jitters, y’know?

He ignores you after that.

For the entirety of the two-hour lecture, he makes sure not to spare a single glance in your direction. And it stings, but you suppose you understand. Can see the tension held in his shoulders now; the strain in his voice as he works to talk with that same measured ease he’d had at the beginning.

You take notes carefully, and don’t bother raising your hand when he inspires participation from the other students. But by the end of the class, you can’t bring yourself to walk out – not without saying something, without finding some kind of understanding over what the fuck is happening. You’re practically glued to your seat as students rise, filing out of the theatre hall.

Joel stands by the desk, back hunched as he collects his things, fielding kind comments of thanks and that was great from people as they pass him on their way toward the exit.  Eventually you join the stream, wandering down the stairs on shaky legs until you find yourself at the edge of his desk, fiddling with the strap of your bag and watching his back. His shoulders hunch tighter when you pause there, shadow splaying across the desk. Though his face isn’t visible to you, his hands are almost a blur, scrambling to drag his things into a messy pile so that he can pack up faster. He slaps his laptop closed and you flinch at the sound.

After a few moments, you find the courage to speak.

“That was, uhh, that was really interesting,” you clear your throat awkwardly, watching other students shuffle past in your periphery. His hands move faster, stuffing loose notes into a leather satchel with little disregard for the paper creasing.

You lower your voice to a hoarse, careful whisper. “We need to talk about this.”  

Joel finally looks up, nostrils flaring as he meets your stare. He nods once, looping the bag over his shoulder. “Not here,” he says gruffly, tight eyes darting around the room. “Room’s booked for another lecture in five.”

He tilts his head towards the door, encouraging you to follow him as he paces out towards the hall. You shadow him quickly, clutching your bag and watching the muscles in his back shift beneath his shirt as he walks three paces ahead of you. You fight the urge to place your hand in the dip between his shoulder blades; to feel the heat of his skin, the rolling tension beneath it, and dig your fingernails into him. Joel doesn’t look back to check if you’re following – he knows you are.

He leads you up a flight of stairs and down another hall, makes a left, and then another left, until finally he’s pausing and dragging a key from his pocket, pressing it into the lock of a heavy wooden door and nudging it open. There’s a plaque on the wood that reads J MILLER, PhD. You swallow. And then follow him inside and let the door fall shut behind you.

Joel stalks into the room, feet heavy against the dark carpet. He tosses his satchel to the floor and then stands by the desk, wild eyes trained on where you hover silently by the door. He looks on edge, to say the least. Frazzled fingers race through his hair, mussing the curls until they look reminiscent of the past Friday. Foot tapping against the ground in a quick, jerky rhythm.

And you know that you need to talk, need to clear the air, need to say anything, but you can’t help it when your eyes wander around the room because—

His office is sort of beautiful.

A larger space than you expected it to be, with a north-facing window that allows a natural yellowed morning light to fill the space, and a vast bookshelf stretching across the wall behind a large desk. You can’t make out the titles from where you stand by the door, but texts fill every crack and crevice of the shelfing unit, not organised by any noticeable colour scheme or structure. The space is messy – personal. In fact, everywhere you look seems to expose something private, something intimate.

A jacket hangs from a hook on the back of the door, made of a worn duck brown waxed material that looks soft to the touch. In the corner opposite the desk, a velvet green armchair sits beside a low table that houses a record player and a potted plant. Sleeves of records are tucked beneath the table, stacked upon each other haphazardly, without a hint of dust on them. Clearly touched and rifled through more often than not.

The wide window is cracked just an inch, allowing a warm early-Fall breeze to slip in and rustle the starched curtains. A coffee mug is beside the record player. Two more sit abandoned on the outskirts of his desk. All empty and forgotten about, too busy to be refilled or moved or cleaned. And there are books everywhere; strewn across his desk, forgotten beneath the cushion of his armchair, piled against the wall beneath the window. Worn, well-read books, with frayed covers and broken spines. You almost drool, tempted to ignore him completely and venture towards them; to run your fingers over the covers and find out exactly what kind of writing this enigma of a man spends so much time devouring.

After what feels like an hour of simply looking—but could only have been a minute—Joel breaks the silence.

“Did you know?”

His voice is quiet. Detached. The backs of his thighs perch on the edge of the desk, hands tangled in his lap. Large fingers pluck at each other as he stares at you from across the room, in an almost anxious fiddling movement.

“What?” you ask.

“Did you know who I was?” he clarifies, voice hardening. Those dark eyebrows tighten in the middle of his forehead, features pinching together into a sharp frown. “When you saw me.”

“Joel,” you scoff, taken aback. “How the hell would I know who you were?”

“Your classes were organised,” his voice raises slightly—just a little. “You knew the names of your profess—”

“J Miller,” you interrupt. “Everything says J Miller, that’s it. I didn’t fucking know, Joel.”

His frown softens at that, eyes dropping to the carpet as he nods once, clearly still unsure. You shuffle awkwardly on your feet, shoulders tense. There’s only a metre or so between the pair of you, and yet you can feel it. That static, burning energy, the same as four nights before. Something inside of you that rages and claws at your skin from the inside, begging to get closer to him. You ignore it.

“Why didn’t I meet you when I interviewed for the program?” you ask. You remember the day you came in, six months ago. Sitting with an older man—the Classics department head—and a soft, round woman with light hair. No Joel. You would’ve remembered him. 

His eyes flash, hands tightening in his lap. “I was on vacation,” he grinds out. It’s like it physically pains him to talk to you—to even look at you. One of his hands drops, palm flexing by his side. He’s taking deep breaths, clearly trying to calm the quell of panic that has been swirling inside him for the past two hours. You keep your distance.

After a moment, he speaks again.

“Greece, huh?” It comes out in a low scoff. His eyebrows are raised expectantly, frustration laced through the lines in his face. “Said you were there for a month.”

“Mhm,” you hum. “I was involved in a text translation study based in Athens.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales, digging the palms of his hands over his eyes. “This can’t be happenin’.”

“Joel—”

“Y’need to transfer out of my class,” he interrupts, eyes blazing. “They run it online, you can—”

“What?” you blink. You feel your blood pressure rise, anger spiking as you comprehend what he is suggesting. “Be serious – I am not doing the class online because of this. It’ll jeopardise my entire semester.”

“I don’t care,” he glowers, rising from the desk.

“Jesus, stop acting like this was all my doing,” you snap. “If memory serves, you’re just as to blame as I am—you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.”

“Stop,” he growls. It’s a rough, unforgettable sound that fills your stomach with heat. An oddly familiar thing that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Silly little slut. The memory licks at your throat, the skin of your chest, leaving a hot heady feeling in its wake. You wonder if he’s noticed the hickey on your neck that hasn’t entirely faded yet. A persistent, lingering reminder of his mouth on your skin. Of the sharp scrape of his teeth.

You take a step forward and Joel’s entire body goes rigid, right hand jutting out in front of him, fingers splayed open.

“Stay over there,” he says quickly, voice a low warning.

You scowl but don’t move, feet planted in the soft carpet. The breeze rushes in through the window and causes a paper on his desk to flap upward, and your eyes drift toward the movement. Gaze shifting over the items on his desk, the mess of papers, the half-full mugs, and then… a picture frame. You squint, unable to make it out from where you are. Take a step forward, and then another, and realise it’s Joel’s shape in the image, standing with a tall woman tucked against his side. It’s too far for you to see clearly, but you can tell his arm is wrapped around her shoulder, holding her against his chest, and you know he’s grinning from the splash of white across his face.

“What’re you—” Joel’s words turn to silence as he tilts his head and realises what you’re looking at. A broad hand darts out, gripping the frame and knocking it face down on his desk.  You flinch, eyes widening in incredulity as you turn to him.

“What?” A sardonic laugh escapes your mouth. “Are you fucking married or something? Jesus, Joel.”

You reach for the frame, fingers skirting across it with every intention of seeing, of understanding, of knowing just what it is that he’s so desperate to hide. But then he’s there, strong fingers looping around your wrist, halting your movement. The speed of it sends you stumbling toward the desk, and Joel’s body follows you forward, chest flush against your back as your lower stomach collides with the dark wood. Caught between a rock and a hard place, quite literally. You stiffen, sorely aware of how close he is. How much of his body is touching yours, and how similar it is to before.

“I’m not married,” he bites, and you can feel his breath against your ear. Hot, harsh exhales that send whisps of your hair fluttering forward. A shiver runs down your spine. His grip is firm around your wrist; not hard enough to hurt, but enough to hold you in place with your hand frozen in the air, fingers still outstretched towards the frame.

“Then who’s in the picture?” you grunt.

“None of your fuckin’ business,” he snaps quickly. You can feel his stubble graze the edge of your jaw, and something fizzes in your stomach. Your resolve softens at the frustration in his voice; the truth that bleeds out through his words. It is none of your business. Your body relaxes a little, arm going limp in his hold, and yet he doesn’t let go. It takes a moment for you to realise why.  

Joel’s hips are pressed tightly into you, trapping you against the desk, and he’s hard. You can practically feel him throb against the small of your back, the full length of his cock only separated from you by two layers of clothing. Saliva pools in your mouth, eyes pinching closed as you remember the feeling of him; the delicious burn of his heavy cock dragging through you. Using your free hand, you twist your arm behind you and slide it down his front. A whispered oh fuck escapes your lips as your fingers drag across the front of his pants, and he grunts in your ear, grasp tightening around your wrist. Painful this time, but only for a second, until he’s tearing his hand off you and placing it on your lower back, pushing you down so that your chest is flush with his desk.

You gasp, lips parting to speak, but no words are coming out and Joel’s hands are on the waistband of your jeans, on the button. He’s undoing it, fingers steadfast in their movement, and then he yanks the material down roughly over your ass.

“Joel,” you whimper urgently as he grips your panties, dragging them to your knees as well. He keeps you bent against the desk, so you twist your neck to stare at him over your shoulder, legs tensing when you see the expression on his face. His eyes are dark, pupils blown behind his glasses as he looks down to where his covered cock grinds against the swell of your ass.

“God dammit,” he exhales, and you clench around nothing, warmth pooling between your thighs. This is so different from at the bar. There the door was locked, place full of people who didn’t know either of you. Here, in his office, anyone could walk in. A member of faculty, a student, anyone. And the thought has you fucking aching for him.

Thick fingers streak between your thighs from behind, spreading your slick folds apart. You gasp as cool air hits your throbbing clit, but the sound cuts into a low moan as his fingers expertly roll over the sizzling nerve endings there. He ousts a low grunt of surprise at how wet you are, hips still grinding against you as his fingers drift to your entrance, rubbing and collecting your slick on his fingers until you’re whimpering into your own palm, pressing your hips back and begging him for more. All at once, one of his palms slaps across your ass while two thick fingers press inside you. The sting has your eyes rolling back. Your teeth sink into the palm of your hand to muffle the noise you make, and he’s curling his fingers inside you, rubbing against your g-spot, and your legs are trembling with the effort of staying standing. Your mind is a blur. You feel almost lightheaded at how suddenly this is all happening – and at how relieved you are to feel his hands on you again.

“S’this what you wanted?” Joel pants, scissoring his fingers inside you, stretching you out. “Knew if you followed me in here, I’d end up fuckin’ this pretty pussy again? Huh?”

“Fuck,” you choke out, eyelids fluttering as he adds a third finger. Heat sizzles beneath the tightening muscles in your stomach, and you can feel yourself clenching around him over and over again, your high already approaching. It’s almost pitiful, the affect he has on you; how easily your body yields to the simplest of touches from his hands.

“Huh?” he prompts for a response. You can feel the cool zipper of his pants cutting across the bare skin of your ass, scratching you as his hips rut forward.

“Please,” you say, voice quiet as you can muster. “I’m so close, Joel, please.”

He grunts, increasing the speed of his fingers. Soft squelching sounds are audible now, slick smearing against your inner thighs, his wrist, and your face goes warm at the sound of it. Your fingers claw at his desk, nails catching on paper as your hand lands against a book and grips it tight. Your abdomen burns, that soft thrumming heat licking at your skin, the muscles of your thighs, scorching in its might as your orgasm builds and builds, hanging dangerously close to the precipice.  

“Gonna come all over my fingers?” Joel asks, voice haggard and breathless. “C’mon, give it t’me.”

You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking, forehead knocking roughly against wood, eyebrows pinching together. So close, so close, so fucking clo—

A light knock sounds against his office door.

Joel freezes. Your eyes widen, hips shifting against his hand as you murmur no, no, no, please Joel. But he ignores you, gripping your hip to keep you still and dragging his fingers from your dripping cunt to press them over your mouth. Your pulse thunders in your ears, heart trashing wildly in your chest as you catch your breath, devasted.

“Joel?” a soft voice calls from the hall. A woman. “You in there?”

“Just on the phone,” he says loudly, voice surprisingly steady. You can taste yourself on his fingers. Feel it smear across your lips. “What d’ya need?”

“I’m headed to the café,” the woman calls. “You want anything?”

Joel responds with a sharp, resounding no.  

There’s a beat of silence where you can almost feel him holding his breath, waiting for her to inevitably open the unlocked door and discover the scene in his office. But the silence stretches on, and then you can hear soft footfalls fade down the corridor, and you know that you’re alone again.

Joel rips his hand from your mouth. Grips your underwear and drags it up over your hips, then your jeans, before he’s stumbling away and dropping into the armchair across the room. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, eyes wide as he gazes at the floor. When you push off the desk and turn to stare at him, a firm tent is visible in his pants. You button your jeans slowly, watching him. He doesn’t look at you.

“Joel—” you start softly.

“Don’t,” he interrupts. “Just… just get out.”

You open your mouth to speak—to argue—but once again, nothing comes out. No words to defend yourself, or what the two of you just did. You stare at him for almost a minute, but Joel’s eyes stay trained on the carpet, fists clenched against his thighs.

You leave his office silently and try not to look back. Make two rights and head down the stairs, outside and across the green to where your car is parked. The whole thing feels so dirty, so debauched, and yet you want so much more from him. Want it so badly that you drive home in silence, mind too busy with thoughts of Joel Joel Joel to remember to turn on the radio. 

And behind it all, is a low, itching thought at the base of your skull, something that makes you smile as you drive – the knowledge that he wants you just as badly as you want him.

Wednesday.

You decide very quickly that you like Rachel.

Maybe it was because you were having a good day. The sun had been shining when you woke up; strong beams that teased their way through the window in your bedroom and rested warm upon the bare skin of your back. By the time you rose, the coffee was already done brewing, and Trin met you in the hall with a large mug of it and a soft hey, man, how’d you sleep? And when you went to get dressed for the day you remembered you did the washing two nights before, and found your favourite pair of jeans—the ones that squeezed your ass just right—were neatly folded in a drawer, waiting for you. Yes; maybe all of that had something to do with it. Or maybe, it because Rachel was just great.  

You like her tenacity, her words; the idolatry with which she discusses her work. And she is charming; an intellectual through and through. The soft roundness of her face and the kind slant to her eyes offset by a razor-sharp wit. And there’s this peculiar quirkiness to her that catches your attention in seconds – a rough snort whenever she laughs, the bright orange shade of the toenails sticking out of her sandals.

Her teaching is direct, no-bullshit, and yet she has this smile. This soft, thin-lipped genuine smile that says, I know something you don’t know, and I can’t wait to share it with you.

During her first lecture, you feel rooted to the spot, unable to draw your eyes away from her for two-hours as she waxes poetic about heroines and tragic love stories, about the importance of myth, of gore.

Listening to her reminds you of what you’d always loved about classics – the filth of it, the horror. It feels like reaching your hands into a puddle of mud, flexing your fingers and letting the dirt and grime slide beneath your nails, coating every inch of your skin. The squeamishness of it, the rot, the tragedy – you love it all, and Rachel does too.

“When we talk about the juxtaposition between heroines across different texts,” she says. “We want to look at the values being portrayed; the meaning behind what’s happening to these women. Let’s appreciate the context here, guys! To understand the rage of Medea, or, say, the sacrifice of Iphigenia, we have to get to the root of their roles in society. Priestess, mistress, virgin, mother – we want to understand the perspectives being shown to us. What drives these women? What fire lives within them, pushing them to make their decisions—or to have their decisions made for them?”

She points to a student and nods, “Go on.”

“Do you think Medea holds much bearing here?” someone to your left asks. A man. “If we’re focusing on heroines, I mean.”

“Do you?” she challenges. A hint of a smile—that smile—drifts across her lips, hands clasped to her stomach as she awaits his response.

“Not particularly,” he says, voice less sure now. “I know you can view any text through most perspectives, but I’d never thought of her so much as a heroine in a feminist text.”  

“I see,” Rachel nods. “Well, the short answer is that I’d encourage you to read it again.” She laughs, a soft tinkering sound. “The long answer is that her character is complex. Let’s not beat around the bush; Medea is a woman scorned. Banished by Creon, forgotten by Jason. As the reader, we are able to comprehend the most brutal pain through her – a woman trapped in a world where men have decided everything for her, and she is furious. Even describes herself as a woman born to sorrow. Now, as the reader, it is your right to believe that she is bad, or an anti-heroine, but you cannot deny that she is made bad by circumstances out of her own control.” She pauses, thick eyebrows jutting upward as she looks around the quiet theatre. “I’d say that’s pretty feminist of Euripides.”

You approach her afterwards, fingers an awkward tangle in front of your chest.

“I just have to say,” you smile bashfully. “That was wonderful. You’re so engaging, I was… god, I don’t even know what to say, but thank you. I’m really looking forward to learning from you this semester.”

Rachel’s eyes light up at your words.

Up close you notice a pair of thick, ceramic earrings dangling from her lobes. They look hand painted; thick brushstrokes of dandelion yellow smeared across crimson red ovals.

“Oh, how lovely,” her eyes assess you quickly, mouth splitting into a crooked, fond smile. “I’m very glad to have you here…?”

You tell your name in a mumbled rush, and she nods once, eyes scanning the list of students on her sheet.

“Oh of course,” she says knowingly. “You emailed yesterday, no? Some trouble with accessing the readings online?”

You stiffen. Blink at her, smile dimming somewhat. “Yeah,” you exhale. “Yes, that’s actually—I was having trouble with the link for another class, and I hoped you might be able to help.”

“I see,” she frowns then. “Well, unfortunately if it’s not for this class I won’t be of much help; my access code only gets me so far in that damn portal. Which professor assigned the reading?”

“It’s, uhh,” you speak slowly, the words stiff as they stumble out of your mouth. “It’s Joel Miller.”

“Oh, Joel?” she smiles. “Well, he’ll be happy to help, I’m sure. He’s usually in his office around this time – do you need me to show you the way?”

Your mouth is dry. Yeah, you think. I’m sure he’ll be over the moon to see me.

“That’s okay,” you reply with a tight smile. “I’ll find it.”

She nods, bids you a warm goodbye, and her eyes have already drifted back to the papers in front of her when you turn to leave the room.

Your bag weighs heavy on your shoulder, straps of canvas material digging into the muscle there as you retrace your footsteps from yesterday. Up the creaking set of stairs, taking a left, and then another left, and your mind is a blur, static wobbling in your veins as you rehearse what you’re going to say, how you’re going to say it.

It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you’d last seen him, and from the second you left, an image of what happened in his office played on a loop in your brain. Like the spool on a VHS has been stuck together, wound into a circle, and the tape repeats over and over again, the same images, sounds, smells, soaking your mind until all else is white noise. And it’s twisted, and wrong, and you’re vaguely aware of that, somewhere in the part of your brain where you stash knowledge that you’d prefer to forget. Because it’s easier to forget the hard part, the ugly part, and far nicer to remember the scrape of his stubble against your skin. The smell of him filling your nostrils as he crowds you against his desk. The scratch on your ass from his zipper. Remember how your name sounds when he moans it, and forget the feeling that comes when he refuses to look at you after the fact.  

And you wonder if this is what the entire semester will be like; spending each day reminiscing on your last interaction with Joel, hoping for another touch, taste, another chance, another something, anything, from him. The weight of it sits heavy on your chest, like a wall of freshly cemented bricks left to solidify in the sun. And beneath that, beneath the clay and sand and limestone, excitement buzzes. Indisputable, persistent, anticipation. A vibrating that hums in your bones and has you shivering from the tips of your toes to the top of your skull as you knock on his office door. 

J MILLER PhD. The words glare at you from the bronze plaque for the second time in two days.

You hear his voice call pleasantly from behind the door. Light, relaxed. You swallow down the lump in your throat and step inside.

The window is wide open today, pale curtains drawn back to allow the bright midday sun to shine through and warm the carpet. Joel’s head tilts upward and within seconds the soft, easy smile on his face dissolves into something unreadable. He’s perched behind his desk, broad frame bent over a mess of papers, pen tucked neatly between coiled fingers. A clear tension simmers in the lines on his forehead; a tangible rigidity that clouds his expression when he sees that it’s you. He clicks the top of his pen once, twice, three times, and says your name in a clipped greeting.

“Hi,” you say, hand raising in a quick wave. “Sorry to barge in like this, I, uhh, I was wondering if you could help me with something.” 

“My office hours are between one and four,” he says tersely, eyes lowering back to his book. “Schedule an appointment over email.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, face warming as embarrassment swells in your chest. All of the excitement—the longing—that had churned inside you since yesterday seems to dissipate, replaced by a looming sense of dread as you register how distant and apathetic he seems. How hard he tries to not even look in your direction. Those words from yesterday ring in your ears. Just get out.

“Seriously?” you mutter, nonetheless, trying to contain the hurt that threatens to spill across your face. “It’ll take five seco—”

“Seriously,” he repeats firmly.

Your jaw clenches, annoyance tightening the already stiff muscles in your shoulders as you march over to his desk, dropping your bag onto the edge of it. The exact same spot from yesterday, where’d pressed you down against the wood and— Joel’s shoulders hunch. The sleeves of his shirt are pushed up to just below his elbows, thin white material stressing around cords of muscle. You gaze at the bare skin for a moment, tongue heavy in your mouth, before looking to what he was doing before you came in. A book in front of him is filled with scribbles and annotations, harsh black marks scrawled beneath thin lines of text. You only get a second to look at it before his hands are snapping it shut, revealing the cover. Robert Fagles’ translation of The Odyssey. The picture frame from yesterday is nowhere to be seen.

“Working on something for a lecture?” you try. If it’s about class, he can’t be mad. If it’s about class, he can’t push you away.

“What do you need?” he asks impatiently, ignoring your words entirely.

A hand lifts to rub the skin above his eyebrow. The tip of his middle finger massages the tan skin there in soft circles, and you watch the movement for a second, transfixed. No ring. I’m not married. His other hand reaches for the mug on his desk, and he takes a long, drawn-out sip of black coffee. Steam billows from the dark liquid, fogging the lenses of his glasses. The sight makes you want to laugh, but you swallow it down, acutely aware that Joel would be less than impressed by the reaction.

“I can’t access one of the readings for next week,” you explain distractedly, dragging the laptop from your bag.

You round his desk in a few short steps and Joel sighs, cringing as you place it down in front of him, opening the screen for him to see. He shifts his chair just slightly to the right, away from you. That persistent feeling of doubt coils in your gut, sharp teeth that twist and nip at your insides, taunting you, telling you that he doesn’t want you. And it’s not why you’re here—not at all—but you can’t bring yourself believe it. Don’t want to believe it. So you bite back – turn your back to his desk and pitch your thighs atop the edge of it, feet dangling an inch off the ground. You jeans are tight, and the fabric cuts into the skin of your hips where they bend.

“Get down,” he warns sharply, dismissing you with a taut shake of his head. “You can ask IT for help with that.”

“I’m asking you,” you persist stubbornly. “You’re my professor, Joel—"

“Yes, I am your professor,” Joel bites in agreement, glowering up at you. You stiffen warily at the heat in his gaze. At the anger you can see stirring in those dark brown orbs, brimming and ready to boil over. “And I don’t think we should be alone together,” he adds. “It’s not… this is bad for us, okay? I can’t… fuck, you can’t just come in here. I don’t want you comin’ in here anymore.”

And the memory plays once more. That thing, that something twisted, something wrong, something familiar, curls in your stomach. Snaps and bares its teeth at your uncertainty, sends it scattering into the distance, and replaces it with want.

“I didn’t even plan to come here,” your voice hardens, hackles rising as the feeling rises within you. “You’re not the first person I asked, alright? I just need some fucking help—”

“Don’t swear at me,” he interrupts through gritted teeth.

A beat of stunned silence hangs between you. A shocked laugh tumbles from your mouth, eyes widening as you take in the grave expression on his face.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you stare at him incredulously. “Joel, you had your fingers inside of me against this desk yesterday. I think swearing is the least of our worries.”

“Jesus,” he spits, pushing his chair further from the desk. His elbows fall against his knees, head resting in his palms as he breaths, not looking at you. “You’re fuckin’ filthy, y’know that? Can you not just behave?”

Don’t swear, you want to tease, but think better of it.

Instead, you nod slowly, drop your hand onto the desk, fingers hovering over his book. “Joel,” you implore, tone pleading. “I don’t… I don’t know how to act around you right now, okay? It’s not easy for me to just pretend nothing has happened between us. To just forget.”

“And you think it’s easy for me?” he gripes. His eyes are focused on your hand; on the way your fingers tense and untense over the bound cover, stroking the frayed paper his own fingers have clearly touched countless times. He doesn’t move a muscle. “To try and act like things are normal, act like I didn’t—” he cuts himself off, lips clamping shut. An anguished look crosses his features.

“We’re both adults,” you frown. “It’s not a crime that we fucked, Joel.”

A harsh laugh falls from his mouth, stern eyes blazing. “Ain’t about that and you know it. It’s against professional ethics,” Joel snaps, tone firm. “Against university policy – if anybody finds out it could put us both in jeopardy.”

You’re silent for a moment, watching him. His glasses have slid down a little, and they rest precariously on the tip of this nose. Dark eyes stare from over the top of black frames, and then his legs are crossing, one tucking tightly over the other, a thick forearm dropping to rest across his lap, and want burns in your throat. You struggle to remember why you came to his office in the first place.

“Nobody is going to find out,” you whisper.

A rasp of your name catches in his throat. Joel looks bemused, face as flat as he rolls his eyes. “Quit fuckin’ playin’ around. You know how serious this is.”

You contain the urge to scowl, lips tight as you say, “Yeah, I know. Just—look, you don’t have to worry. We can cut it off right now – I won’t say a word of it to anyone. Nothing else is going to happen.”

But you can see the way his eyes flicker down your body whenever you move. How his gaze rests heavily at the pinch of your waist, the spread of your thighs against his desk, your bare arms, before darting away. You wonder if he’s touched himself thinking about you, and a jagged heat tears through the top of your thighs as you picture what that would look like.

“But that's not what you want, is it?” you ask softly. Joel doesn’t speak. He’s so still you almost think he didn’t hear you. But his eyes glance to your thighs again, you know that he did.

“You want me,” you say then, voice low and sure.

The muscle in his jaw ticks. Lips purse around clenched teeth and a harsh breath escapes his nose before he’s saying your name again, a strained whisper. And God, you love the way he says it. Like the word was created just to spite him.

“You are walkin’ on some mighty thin ice right now,” he grits out, heated gaze scorching your skin.

You glance down to his lap, where a forearm still balances over his crotch, and arch an eyebrow.

“Show me,” you murmur.

You can hear him breathing. Slow, exaggerated puffs of breath, chest rising and falling at an increasing pace as he maintains eye contact. Large hands tighten into fists, fingers curling against palms, and he’s dragging his arm back from his lap, spreading his legs as far as they’ll go within the arms of his chair. You wet your lips, face heating as you stare. The firm line of his cock is evident beneath his pants, a solid ridge against his left thigh. When you look back to his face there’s a faint red hue colouring the skin of his neck, steadily rising toward the edge of his facial hair. He’s blushing.

“How long?” you ask, voice awed.

“Since you got on the desk,” Joel grumbles, tone almost begrudging.  

You hum softly, a low vibration in your throat, and then you’re slipping off his desk and taking a step towards him. And he doesn’t flinch away. He watches you close the distance between the pair of you and hover between his thighs, your legs almost brushing his.   

“Let me help,” you whisper, lowering onto the ground in front of him. The carpet is warm and rough against your jean-clad knees. Your eyes drift from his face to between his thighs, and then back up, slowly.

“We shouldn’t,” he croaks, lips chapped and dry. You want to kiss him senseless. Want to drag your tongue across his mouth until it’s soaking wet and then push your way inside.

“But do you want me to?”

An agonising beat of silence follows. But there’s no doubt there anymore. No more wondering, or uncertainty, because you can see it in his eyes. The same all-consuming, devastating desire that crawls its way up to rest at the base of your throat whenever you’re with him. 

And then thick fingers are at the waist of his pants, undoing his leather belt, his button, pushing the material open to reveal a pair of black briefs. He doesn’t take his pants off, just adjusts slightly in the chair before pressing his hand beneath the band of his underwear. Joel grips himself, the sight still obscured from your vision, and you find yourself mesmerised nonetheless, unable to drag your eyes away from the dark material. A low grunt escapes him, and then he shifts the band of his underwear down and pulls his cock out.

The head of him is swollen and leaking, tight skin so red that it’s almost a purple hue against the stark white of his shirt. Joel’s fingers tighten around his base, stroking himself once. Impatient, you lick you hand and let it drift forward to replace his, fingers slipping over the silky wet skin of his head and wrapping around him. Your hand is so much smaller in comparison, and your fingertips almost don’t meet as you flex your grip around girth.

Your underwear clings to the skin between your thighs, material warm and damp against you, a result of the simmering heat that rests in the base of your belly and flares every time Joel sighs. When you glance up to see his face, he’s already staring at you, pupils blown wide, lips sealed in a tight line. His length twitches in your palm, and you salivate.

You lean in and place a gentle kiss again his tip, smearing the pearl of precome there against your lips. You stroke the length of him in slow, firm pumps, guiding his head against your puckered lips, but not quite taking it inside yet. Joel’s fists are tight against his thighs, and you wish he would put them in your hair, on the back of your head, grip you, pull you down against him. But he doesn’t, not yet.

He’s got a salty, heady taste, and you swipe your tongue out to clean the hint of it from your mouth, swallowing with a satisfied purr. A harsh exhale shoots from his nose, eyebrows dragging further down as he watches you tease him.

A quick flick of your tongue against his slit has a sharp gasp rising from him, and in response you lathe wet, messy kisses to his head, puckering your lips around it and swirling your tongue, not caring what you look like, not caring that he probably wants you to go faster. It’s purely for your own enjoyment, and you’re moaning and sighing around the taste of him. You want to take Joel Miller a part, piece by piece, and feel him come undone beneath your mouth.

Unable to wait any longer, you let his head slip passed your open lips and sink into the wet heat of your mouth. And he’s so quiet, so composed, so you glide your tongue over his slit again before pressing forward, lips meeting the movement of your own hand as you take him deeper.

Your jaw strains, muscles smarting as you attempt to take the entirety of him. He’s so long, so thick, and the tip of him is nudging against the back of your throat in seconds, making your eyes water. And god it’s better than you could’ve imagined.

Tears cling to your eyelashes as you look up and find Joel with his bottom lip snagged between his teeth, pink skin turning white from pressure. The heavy weight of him crowds your senses, his taste on your tongue and scent in your nostrils, everywhere, and you can feel how hot your face is getting but you can’t look away from him. You don’t stop until his hand is landing on the nape of your neck, collecting your hair in his fist and dragging your mouth off him. You part with a wet gasp, a string of saliva dangling between his tip and your shiny lips.

“Breathe, goddammit,” Joel says, holding you still when you attempt to press forward and take him back into your mouth.

“You’re so big,” you say earnestly, head tilting backward to rest heavy in his hold. You blink through bleary eyes, smiling lazily. Drunk on him after only a little taste. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this, you know. How you’d taste… how it would feel to have you in my mouth.”

“Fuck, stop,” Joel says quickly, voice pained. “Y’can’t say shit like that.” His grip tightens at the base of your neck, and then he’s guiding your face forward so the head of his cock slips back into your mouth, effectively shutting you up.

You hum appreciatively and relax your jaw, taking him until he’s nudging at your throat again, and he’s still so fucking silent. Determined to get some kind of reaction from him, you pull off and lick a broad stripe from tip to base, hand stroking his length in unhurried, firm pulls as your mouth finds his heavy balls. Your tongue glides along the sensitive skin in slow, overwhelming movements, leaving no inch of him untouched. Wet sounds fill the air as the movement of your fist increases in pace, and your lips drag over him, sucking one of his balls into your mouth and then—finally—a long, drawn-out groan spills into the air, and he’s saying, “Shit, that’s it.”

Never pausing the movement of your hand, you pull back just a smidge and grin.

Joel’s hands are on you then, another deep sound sputtering from his lips. He’s brushing your hair off your face, mussing it as he rakes his fingers through it, short nails scraping against your scalp. He swears softly when you take him back into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mutters breathlessly. “Is that what you want? Needy little thing wants a little praise, huh? Want me to tell you how good you are, how good your pretty mouth feels on my cock?”

You whimper, eyelids fluttering as you begin to move on him desperately. Your mouth tightens around him, and a tear squeezes from your eyes as his hips jolt forward, cock nudging suddenly into the back of your throat. Joel’s hand cups the back of your head, strokes the damp skin at the base of your neck as you gag around him.

“Jesus,” Joel groans at the sound. “There you go, s’perfect, s’fuckin’ perfect.”

The muscles in your thighs tighten, legs pressing together to try and soothe the pulsing ache there. Your head is moving up and down along his length and it’s wet and messy and depraved, saliva gliding down your chin to your neck, and you fucking love it. Joel’s gruff sounds of encouragement only serve to spur you on.

And then, as if by some stroke of divine intervention, it happens again.

A firm rap against the door of his office.

Joel goes silent. Your shoulders tense, and you pull back until his tip rests heavy on your bottom lip. Wide eyed, you gaze up at him, panic swelling in your chest. And then comes that voice; the same voice as yesterday.

“You in there Joel?”

You can feel your lungs squeezing inside your chest, grasping violently for air and finding zero reprieve as the reality of the moment begins to overwhelm you, because you know that voice.

“Fuck,” you whisper dazedly, slumping back to rest on your heels. “Fuck, fuck, fu—”

Joel shakes his head, strong hands gripping your shoulders to soothe you. “Shh,” he hushes quietly. “Stop, hey, stop. It’s fine.”

Another knock at the door. Nowhere for you to go, nowhere to hide.

“Just a sec, Rachel,” Joel calls, voice laced with frustration.

And then those hands are guiding you backwards. You move blindly, allowing him to encourage your body back, back, back, broad palm protecting your head as he nudges you underneath the desk. Further and further until you’re completely hidden, tucked away where only he can see you. And as you settle into the warm, sweaty space, watch Joel drag his chair forward and squeeze his long legs around your body, you feel the panic quell. Your pulse slows, the tremor in your hands settles, and cool relief comes in the form of a chill down your spine.

“Come in,” Joel calls. You can hear the door click open a second later, soft footsteps entering the room. You hold your breath as they begin to talk, heart stuttering, eyes trained on his where his spit-soaked cock rests against the underside of his desk.

“Sorry to be a bother,” Rachel’s soft voice chimes. “I was hoping to grab my copy of The Annals, I need it for the undergrad lecture I’m covering this afternoon.”

“Course,” he says sharply, and you can hear a drawer to your right open and close. A moment of silence. “All yours.”  

Your abdomen tenses at the sound of his haggard voice, and something tight pulls in your chest. A flare of jealousy, of possessiveness, at the fact that someone else is seeing him right now. That the flush on his cheeks, the sweat on his neck, is no longer yours alone. And it’s absurd, because she has no idea. But the desire to reclaim the moment for yourself, to assert that his sweat, his blush—his body—is yours is overwhelming, and you find your hand gripping his heavy cock, tongue gliding out of your mouth to swipe against his weeping tip. The dread from before flares in the back of your mind but you push it away, shove it down until it’s hazy, a faint ringing that fades into the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

Joel’s thighs stiffen. He coughs, a sharp, surprised noise.

“Thanks for that,” Rachel says, voice slow. “Hey… are you doing okay? Looking pretty faint over there, Miller.”

You smile around him and rub your tongue in teasing strokes along the underside of his sensitive head. He clears his throat roughly, and then his hand is slipping underneath the desk to tangle in your hair. It’s rough and it stings, and you find yourself humming ever so slightly around him, indicating that you love it.

“Feelin’ a little under the weather,” he agrees faintly.

“Should try some of that tea I always tell you about,” she says, ever so friendly. “Works a treat when you’re sick.”

“Maybe I will,” Joel says, and his fingers are twisting in your messy locks, pulling your mouth away from his cock.

Although he can’t see you, you pout. Not wanting to push it, you settle for looping three fingers around him, index middle and thumb, gripping just beneath his head, and begin to rub him in slow, soundless movements. With every forward motion of your hand, the tip of his cock brushes against your lower lip, and his grip on your hair tightens.

“I could bring you some,” Rachel offers then. You can practically hear the smile in her voice, picture the kind slant to her eyes. “Maybe tomorrow, if you think you’ll be coming into wor—”

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” Joel snaps suddenly, voice almost harsh as he interrupts her. “Was that all you needed?”

“Oh,” she replies awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry.”

“No,” he says, audibly flustered. His cock is drooling over your lips, and the salty taste has your pussy aching, clenching painfully tight, begging to be filled. “m’sorry, got a fuckin’ headache, is all. Tea tomorrow?”  

“Tea tomorrow, sure,” Rachel confirms. “Sorry again, I… yeah, sorry, I hope you feel better, Joel.”

Whem the door closes a moment later Joel is shoving his chair backward again, hands wrenching you out from underneath his desk. You fall forward, flushed and breathless. His expression is thunderous, pitch-black eyes glaring down at you. On all fours, you crawl forward and splay your palms across his thighs, feel them twitch and tremble beneath your nimble fingers.

“You couldn’t fuckin’ wait?” he snaps, hand finding a home in your hair once more. He drags it into a ponytail and wraps it around his fist.

“Sorry,” you lie, teeth nipping at your swollen bottom lip. Joel’s eyes follow the movement and he grunts, unimpressed with the apology.

“She could’ve caught us,” he admonishes you.

“Better start locking the door then,” you clip, winking lazily. A short huff passes through his lips, and then his left hand is dropping to land on your chin, thumb rubbing against your lower lip, prying it from between your teeth.

“Open,” he orders.

His jaw is set with concentration, eyebrows drawn low as he cradles your jaw, holding it still while he pushes his cock back into your eager mouth. The salt of him rushes your senses again and you’re moaning around him, cheeks hollowed and eyes wet as he begins to rut into your mouth, the tip of his cock caressing the back of your throat with every thrust. It’s fast and hard, and the noises coming out of you are scandalous, but you can’t drag your eyes away from his face. Lips parted, eyes ablaze as he watches his cock push in and out of your mouth, over and over again. A tear streaks down your cheek and Joel groans, swiping at it with his fingers. Shallow curses and murmurs of your name spill from his lips in a tortured stream of consciousness.

“Always so fuckin’—impatient,” he mutters. His grip on your jaw is near bruising, cock throbbing against your tongue. You can sense how close he is. Feel it in the way his hips start to stutter, snapping thrusts losing their rhythm.  

The stretch has a dull ache searing through your jaw, but Joel is breathless, eyes dark and focused on yours, saying, “Look at you. So pretty takin’ my cock like this.” and you can’t bring yourself to care. Your eyelids flutter closed, and his fingers are tapping your cheek quickly—softly?

“Let me see you,” he says urgently. “Want those eyes on me, don’t close them.” You cast your eyes up to meet his gaze, and Joel hisses under his breath, expression taut.

His hips drag backward, and he’s replacing your mouth with his hand, fucking himself in quick, brutal strokes, and your mouth is open, slick tongue peaking between your lips before he can even say open your mouth.

“Fuck,” he exhales at the sight, tip bumping against your tongue with every wet pump of his fist. His thighs are trembling beneath your hands, and you dig your nails into the muscles there, encouraging him. “Fuck me.”

And then he’s coming, face going slack as hot ropes of his come paint your lips, your tongue, your chin. Unashamed rasps of your name fall from pink lips, washing over you in glorious waves as you sit there and take all of it. And for a moment, you think it’s over. But then Joel’s hand is still moving over his length, calloused thumb gliding against the ridge of his rounded tip, and there’s more.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck—yes.”

Salty strings of his spend gloss over your cheeks and slide down to paint your neck. And it’s like he’s coming a second time, torso jolting in short, jerky movements, and you wish you could see his body while he came; the way the muscles in his stomach would flex and pull taut, entire frame straining as he gives you his all.  

His shoulders slump forward as he stares down at you, hand falling away from his sensitive cock, and his face is ruined. Eyes blown wide, cheeks a dark red, looking at you like he’d enjoy nothing more than to devour you whole. Maintaining eye contact, you swallow down his spend, practically purring at the taste of him.

Joel’s thumb smears his come off your cheeks and into your swollen mouth, making sure you don’t miss a single drop.

“Good girl,” his voice is broken. “That’s it, yeah—yes, s’perfect.”

Perfect, perfect, perfect. The word rings in your ears. Your skin is on fire, and you can’t believe that you are both still fully clothed. You feel naked, bared to him in the truest sense of the word, despite being completely covered up.

He groans heartily when you suck his fingers between your lips, tongue swirling around them greedily, and swallow down the last of his spend. 

For a moment after, the two of you simply sit there, your knees chafed and aching against the carpet, his fingers hooked against your tongue, staring at each other. And you know. You both know – there’s no going back from this.

Joel drags his hand away and snatches a box of tissues from the top drawer of his desk. You stand, knees popping in relief, and lean against the desk to stabilise yourself. He takes a moment to clean himself, and when you’re sure he’s not looking you swipe a pen from his desk, scribble a set of numbers on a post it and press the sticky paper down against the cover of The Odyssey.

He offers you the box of tissues and you wipe your face carefully, make sure no trace of him is left on your skin. Joel watches your movements like a hawk, eyes fading from black to brown as he fixes his belt and tucks his shirt back into his pants.

“You good?” he asks after a moment. And it’s the same. The same thing he asked you that night in the bar after fucking your brains out. After calling you a slut, a dirty little thing. Maybe it’s his thing—you good? And it’s more than anyone else has ever said after you’ve had their cock in your mouth, so you smile at him. Nod. The duality of man, you think.

“Perfect,” you use his word, and cringe at how wrecked your voice is. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches upward, something sly and conspiratorial in his gaze as he watches you tuck your computer into your bag, IT issue long forgotten.

Even as you wander toward the door of his office, tossing a casual see you tomorrow over your shoulder, you can see it in his face. In the lines by his eyes, the furrow of his brow; never satiated, never finished, never satisfied. More, more, more. This wasn’t enough for either of you. And this will not be the last time.

Hours later, when you’re tucked into bed with a glass of wine and a book perched in your lap, you get a text from an unknown number.

You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.

And then another, twenty minutes later.

That can’t happen again.

You grin. Save his number under J MILLER, PhD, and don’t reply.

tags: @lovely-ateez @nana90azevedo @stevie75 @evyiione @dameron-grant-spector @brittmb115 @ashhlsstuff @casa-boiardi @sinfulrock @bbyanarchist @murc0cks4eva @hopplessilse @joeldjarin @anoverwhelmingdin @bluevxnus @kelp-dreaming @prettyinpunk85 @spacelatinos4life @iluvurfather @daisies-yellow @mrsquill @sarap-77 @sunnywithachanceofjavi @alleyy-katt @zeida

thank you for reading! x

[mediumgayitalian]

“Piper?”

“Here.”

“Damien?”

“Here.”

“Clovis?”

No answer. Nico reaches over and pokes him, hard, and the son of Hypnos startles awake long enough to manage a garbled, “Present!” before nodding off again. At Chiron’s nodded permission, Connor procures an airhorn from what appears to be thin air, grins, and blares it right next to Clovis’ face. He shrieks, flailing off the chair, and would have slammed his face in the ground if Nico hadn’t caught him by the back of the shirt.

“Thanks, man,” he says, yawning.

Nico hauls him back upright, patting him on the shoulder. “No problem. I’m gonna let you fall next time.”

Clovis eyes him warily, shifting at Nico’s too-wide, sharklike grin.

“Noted,” he mutters, sitting straight to try and stay awake. “Jerk.”

Nico pats him on the shoulder again. “There, there.”

Chiron continues with the attendance.

“Butch?”

“Here.”

“Miranda?”

“Yep.”

“And…” Chiron sighs, peering through his reading glasses. “Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one…” He glances down at his clipboard, slowly tapping his pen on the edge of it. “Where is Will?”

A groan ripples through the gathered campers.

“Just start without him!” someone shouts, sinking into their chair.

“He always takes forever!” another person agrees.

“Almost like he’s busy running the infirmary that keeps us all alive,” Lou Ellen says drily, but her one vote of confidence is drowned out by several dozen other voices, all complaining.

Before Chiron has to deal with too much of a coup d’état, the rec room door creaks open, and Will comes strolling in after it, ignoring the heaps of boos and launched ping-pong balls at his tardiness. The beam of sunlight from the one dusty window seems, suddenly, to become a great deal stronger, highlighting the blonde of Will’s hair and strengthening the gleam of his easy grin.

“Perforated artery,” he explains cheerfully, settling down in the one empty chair. “Rogue Ares cabin mine went off. Had to do emergency surgery.”

No sooner are the words out of his mouth does he kick off his flip-flops, curl up in the rickety wooden chair, place his head on the nearest shoulder — Pollux, this time, who rolls his eyes affectionately and shifts to be more comfortable — and immediately starts snoring.

“Well,” says Chiron after a moment. “Let’s begin.”

“Wait,” Clovis complains, “how come he gets to sleep?”

Instead of answering, because there is no delicate way to say because he’s my favourite and I am a giant hypocrite, the centaur moves on. He gracefully avoids the various mutterings and calls for mutiny, instead running through the usual cabin check-ins at the speed of light to delve into the more interesting — and therefore distracting — things, such as Personal Grievances. This portion of monthly head counsellor meetings is Nico’s favourite, because he gets to sit back, be silent, and watch a bunch of teenagers yell at each other for his own personal amusement. On especially great days, he communicates with Connor through a series of complicated hand gestures to coordinate betting pools. Today, he is up seventy-two dollars. (Did he throw the pool by betting against himself and then inventing a fight with Chiara? Yeah. Did he cut her a deal for halfsies beforehand, making this technically fraud on two counts? Yeah. Can anyone prove it? Absolutely not. Suck on that, Stoll. You wanna be beat at your own game any day of the week? Nico’ll beat you at your own game any day of the week.)

As he’s accepting three dollars from a huffy Nysa (obviously the physical altercation count was going to reach six, c’mon, doesn’t she pay attention to these things), a hoof stamping the ground makes Nico jump.

“Boys,” Chiron says tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “that’s quite enough.”

Both campers immediately burst into louder arguments, continuing to flail and smack at each other as their voices get more and more raised and illegible.

“Boys!” Chiron stamps his hoof again. This time, they fall silent, staring at the old centaur with flushed, guilty faces. “Sherman, get Malcom out of that headlock. Malcolm, we are not building a pig pen in the dining pavilion so the Ares cabin can ‘eat in an environment more suited to their mannerisms’.” He pauses, nodding in acknowledgement. “As funny as that was, it was entirely inappropriate to say. Apologise at once.”

“My throat is too bruised to do so,” Malcom grumbles.

“My throat is too bruised to do so,” Sherman repeats, mockingly. “Gods, it’s like you’re asking for me to jump you.” At the immediate catcalls and jeers that follow, he reddens, hastily shouting, “Like mug! Jump like mug him, guys, like beat him up! Shut up! Shut up, or I swear I’ll —”

“Sit down, boys,” Chiron says, banging his hoof again. “For Hera’s sake. It’s like you want to embarrass yourselves further.”

Nico snickers with the rest of the counsellors as Sherman and Malcolm return to their seats. In their desperate attempt to separate from each other to assure their status as Heterosexual, Guys, Please, they manage to bump into each other, losing their balance and collapsing on a heap on the floor, more tangled than before. Predictably, this makes the flailing worse, which is unfortunate for them and their misery but a source of great entertainment for everyone else. Among the hooting and hollering and camera flashes, Chiron sighs, putting his head in his hands and muttering something about teenagers and being too old for this shit. Or something.

“If everyone’s quite done,” he says finally, ignoring Connor’s quip about how he could watch a few more minutes, actually, “I would love for this meeting to end. I have to do something that doesn’t involve teenagers for several hours. All of you exhaust me.”

“Except Will,” Sherman says petulantly, scowling at the still-sleeping medic. Pollux, who by close proximity has become endeared to the human disaster (Nico knows the feeling; he’s still convinced Will has weird powers that mess with one’s oxytocin levels by virtue of smiling as there is no way that someone so annoying can be so simultaneously endearing), glares somewhat protectively.

“Sh,” he hisses, at the same time Chiron says, “If the rest of you spent less time trying to kill each other and more time trying to fix the consequences of said attempted murder, I would be more lenient.”

Lou Ellen speaks up. “Also, Will has that whole cute, can’t-stay-mad-at-me thing.”

Various campers nod and mutter in agreement.

(Nico knew he wasn’t the only one.)

Nyssa clears her throat. “If we’re ready to return back to the actual meeting, I have a point of discussion.”

Chiron nods, gesturing for her to continue.

“The vans are breaking down,” she says bluntly. “Again. Because they’re, you know, older than everyone in the room.” She glances at Nico, frowning. “Well, except for him.”

Nico sniffs haughtily. “Youngin’s, these days,” he says, shaking his head disdainfully. “No respect for their elders.”

Chiron raises a bemused eyebrow. “…Indeed. Nyssa?”

“I need parts again. Preferably from that place in Virginia? They don’t ask questions and price fairly. That would be best. Only I need the van to go get the parts, so. You can see the conundrum I’m in.”

“Easy fix with the chariot,” Chiron decides. “Can someone wake Will?”

“Gladly.”

“Without the airhorn, Connor.”

“Aw. I’m not doing it, then.”

“How tragic. Pollux?”

Gently, the son of Dionysus taps Will’s cheek, shaking him until he blinks awake.

“I was totally paying attention and I think we should go with the second option,” he says, yawning.

“Not asking you to settle a debate, but nice try,” Pollux says.

“Well, shit. That one usually works.” He flicks still-tired eyes around the room, smiling when his gaze rests on Nico. Nico rolls his eyes, willing down the heat to his cheeks. Judging by the teasing edge Will’s grin takes, it does not work. “Whattaya need, then?

“The chariot,” Nyssa says. “Vans are breaking down again. I need a part from a shop in Roanoke.”

Will straightens. “Like, now?”

“In the next day or so, yeah.”

“There’s a strawberry delivery on Saturday,” Miranda pipes up. “So sooner rather than later.”

Will nods. “Yeah, that works. Hell, I can probably be back by —” he checks his watch — “late tonight, honestly. Just gimme the part number and —”

“I kind of meant that I could go,” Nyssa interrupts, looking at him strangely. “I know what the part looks like. I just need to borrow the chariot.”

Will presses his clasped hands to his face, inhaling deeply.

“I would absolutely love to lend you the chariot blessed by my father who has gone totally silent,” he begins, in a tone that makes Nico think that he would not, actually, absolutely love to lend out the chariot blessed by his father who has gone totally silent, “only that the last time I lent someone this super important chariot it came back in pieces.”

“I remember.” Nyssa levels him with a look. “I fixed it.”

“Exactly! So you appreciate how much I would like it to not be broken. In fact —”

“Alright,” Chiron interrupts, holding up a hand. “You’ve made your point, Will, the errand is yours. Choose a buddy to lower the chances of you dying and check in before you leave.”

Predictably, this choice is not well-recieved. Because why would things be easy?

“Totally not fair,” Sherman protests, the loudest of all complainers. “Will’s no less likely to break it just because his cabin thinks they own it —”

“Finish that thought and I will curse you in twelve different ways for the next eight months, Sherman.”

The Ares counsellor snaps his mouth shut, sensing the new, hardened edge in Will’s voice. “Noted.”

“He’s got a point, though,” Damien hedges. At Will’s glare — boy, is that chariot a sensitive topic, Nico is noticing — he holds his hands up, shrugging his shoulders. “We draw straws for small errand-quests, Will, you know that. It’s not fair that you just get to call dibs.”

Will takes a long, slow breath, fingers pressed to his temples. When he looks back up, his expression is flatter than the entirety of the Midwest, jaw set and eyebrow raised. He narrows his eyes, contemplating, then clearly comes to a decision, nodding to himself. Everyone watches with bated breath as he climbs up to stand on his chair, folds his hands together, clears his throat, and says, voice carefully controlled, “Who can guess how many surgeries I’ve done in the last week?”

For a long moment it’s so silent that Nico can hear every rustled shirt as people fidget, every aborted cough and uncomfortable swallow. Will’s eyes are piercing, and he takes the time to stare at every individual counsellor until they meet his eyes, squirming, and look immediately away.

Nico’s impressed. Sometimes he forgets how godsdamn rigid Will’s backbone is.

Finally, someone offers a guess.

“One?”

“Try four,” Will corrects, smile more like a bare of teeth. “I have not had a circadian rhythm since I was thirteen years old. I sleep when I can. And yet, somehow, you clumsy fucks manage to near kill yourself at the exact moment my subconscious even considers approaching REM sleep, every single time, and then I get to spend my next several hours piecing your sorry ass back together by hand, since hymns barely work right now. If I have to see another surgical pin I am going to stab it through someone’s eye. Am I making a point?”

No one answers.

“‘Cause I can make it clearer,” Will drawls.

“No need,” Chiron says hastily. “The quest remains yours, so long as there are no further objections.”

Wisely, no one speaks up.

“Perfect. Nyssa, if you’ll stay behind with me to iron out some details, everyone else — dismissed.”

The tense air immediately evaporates as people practically spring out of their seats, sprinting for the door. Nico is among the last to leave, having to stay and stop several fleeing demigods to collect his wares. On his way out, a heavy arm slings over his shoulders, and he’s suddenly enveloped by the intoxicating scent of lavender body wash and pure sunshine.

“Get off me, Solace,” he complains immediately, coming up to wrap his hand around Will’s forearm in the guise of shoving him off. Will is entirely unfazed, holding him tighter.

“But I have a proposal.”

“Take it elsewhere.” He ducks out of Will’s hold and sweeps his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling with an oof. Unfortunately, he doesn’t look any less sunny and smiley from the ground, somehow making it work for him, actually. He settles against the soft grass, sighing, hair fanning out like a golden halo. He pats the spot next to him, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in the late morning sun, and Nico swallows roughly, joining him.

“You wanna come with me to Roanoke?”

“Yes,” Nico says automatically. Will grins, and he flushes. “I mean, I guess if I have to. Loser.”

“Ever so grateful, Neeks.”

“You should be.”

He keeps his voice prim and superior, attempting to uphold his image, and since he is delusional he convinces himself he’s successful. Will, though, is entirely undeterred, lazy smile still on his face and arms stretched above his head, the picture of unbothered. A sliver of skin shows where the hem of his shirt rises and Nico ignores it. He doesn’t even glance at it, or the glint of Will’s belly-button piercing, at all. Nor is he aware of Will’s shorts riding up, or the curve of his calves as he crosses his legs. All of these things go unnoticed. Obviously.

“I have a proposal for you, if you’re done checking me out.”

Nico shoves his flaming face in his knees. “Did you know that in all the corners of the Earth I have been to, I’ve only encountered three things uglier than you?”

Will’s grin only gets wider. His eyes, even, start to get squinty as the force of his smile squishes his cheeks. Entirely unsubtly, because Will is the least subtle person alive, he reaches out and sends a wave of calming energy into Nico’s body, slowing his rapid heart rate.

“…Right.”

“Three things, Solace.”

“Of course, of course.” He removes his hand, graciously allowing Nico the space to breathe and remind his lungs that their job is not voluntary. “I’ll come pick you up in a half hour? Wear a jacket.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Nico pauses. “Yes.”

“Stellar.”

“God, you say such nerdy things unironically. How do you have friends?”

“I dunno.” He gets to his feet, brushing the dirt and grass from his shorts. “You tell me.” He leans down and presses a smacking kiss to Nico’s hair. Nico presses his fingers into his eyeballs until they hurt, screaming silently into his palms.

He waits until the smacking sounds of Will’s stupid flip-flops retreat before braving the world outside his little ball of misery, squinting at his retreating form.

“I think I should get a lobotomy,” he says out loud to himself, because, realistically, if his braincells are already spilling out of his ears like loose quarters every time Solace so much as smiles at him then there’s not much to lose, is there? and stomps off to his own cabin.

Out of spite, he chooses the New York Giants jacket he got from Percy, just because he knows Will hates it.

That’ll show him who’s bossing who around.

Totally.

———

next

[dreamingkitsunewrites]

🖤Needy! CHOSO at the Cinema 🎥

A/N: hey there I'm back! It's finally here... Here's the winner of the survey to all of my Choso's girlies!😏 Sorry it took sooo long:( The other Nanami's works (❤️‍🔥Colleague! Nanami series and 🎧 When I was your Man oneshot will be published soon- please bear with me 😅). As usual, comments and opinions are appreciated. Hope you'll like it.-KAT🦊

TAGLIST: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @lordbelkamort @viviennevianna (Shout out to my dearest readers ❤️) (Bridgerton me enters the chat 😅)

⚠️Smut/Nsfw content ahead (MDNI); roughly proofread

Summary : fluffy/needy boyfriend Choso at the cinema.

You and Choso have been dating for a while now and you could have never imagined such a sweet person as Choso could exist… he makes you feel special every single day and he enjoys spending time with you above anything else in the world.

One thing about Choso is that he enjoys watching movies… you can say this has become his favourite hobby since he started figuring human habits out…

Since the beginning of your relationship, your typical perfect Saturday dates consisted in staying in, curled up on the couch or in his bed, watching movies and cuddling for the whole afternoon.

Choso always starts holding you in his arms right at the beginning of the film,with your head laying on his chest and your feet entwined…but nine times out of ten, you two somehow manage to toss and shift until you end up in the same starting position…except that as the (titoli di coda) appear on the screen, it was always Choso the one looking up to you with puppy eyes while laying on your chest! He likes to cuddle you while the scenes develop in front of you: his hands instinctively roam along your skin, mindlessly caressing every inch with reverence… his hands always find their way under your shirt, tracing your spine softly, caressing your stomach so gently…and typically, it doesn't take long for him to give in to the temptation of your perky tits, usually freed from the constriction of your bra in those moments of intimacy … he simply can't take his hands to himself when it comes to your boobies, his favourite part of your body: the first time it happened, you two were alone in his room, watching one of his favourite classics, Back to the Future, and his cold hands slowly made their upwards to your chest under your shirt, making you whimper at the sudden cold feeling. You looked at him with a soft smile, but ended up chuckling amused by his feigned nonchalance, betrayed by the subtle bobbing of his Adam’s apple. He was afraid you wouldn't appreciate his touch, he feared it was too early, after all you two had been dating for barely weeks back then…but still he couldn't help it, the sight of your perked nipples showing under the soft fabric of the oversized shirt you borrowed from him made his hands twitch in anticipation…as you caught him he suddenly stopped, blushing and murmuring an excuse while avoiding your eyes, but you took his face in your hands and encouraged him to carry on with his caresses, assuring him that it completely ok for you, he was your boyfriend now and that's what boyfriends do sometimes…his eyes lit up with the familiar spark of cuteness and devotion you have learned to recognize and from that moment on, that cute intimate gesture of him has become an unmissable part of your cosy Saturday afternoons.

At times, Yuji joins you both, adding tons of snacks and cheerful comments to your comfy dates…even on those occasions, Choso struggles to keep his hands in place, resulting in him blushing noticeably behind you on the couch, while shyly giving a soft squeeze to your boobs, hidden under the shield of the blankets. You always giggled at his reaction, fluttered by the way your boyfriend’s love language always included his innocent obsession for your chest.

...

This afternoon though, Yuji came up with a slightly different idea: he suggested the three of you, along with Megumi, Nobara, Todo and Ino should go to the cinema, way too excited for the brand new comedy everyone talked about…

You and Choso accepted the invitation and now, after a long stop at the snacks bar outside the movie hall, you sit next to each other, holding hands while sharing a bucket of popcorn.

The lights go down and the movie begins: the movie is very entertaining and you end up laughing at the comic scenes in front of you, along with Yuji and the others. Choso keeps on holding your hand and observes the way your eyes light up with a spark of amusement he still notices in the darkness of the hall. His gaze lingers on the curve of your stretched neck, as you tilt your head back slightly in amusement… he finds this sight of you irresistible and he can't resist pulling you closer to him anymore: his hand let go of yours for a second and find its way to your waist, encouraging you to shift closer to him and to sit on his lap, with a warm smile, reverend smile. You silently peck his lips in return and feel his arms circling your waist in a tender gesture, before you could shift your attention back to the movie.

There is something about this situation that makes him feel tingly: you two have already been to the cinema before, but this time it feels different…now that he has you all for himself sitting on his lap, he can't contain his need for Pda anymore. Choso feels so cuddly and needy of your attention that he definitely can't stop looking at you, his beautiful girlfriend, with a lost-puppy-eyed expression.

Choso notices how attentive you look while following the movie’s sequences in front of you and he tries his best not to disturb you, leaning back in his chair and attempting to emulate your attention towards the movie but in vain. He tries forcing his eyes on the big screen, he really does, but his resolve crumbles everytime the soft lights of the projection cast shadows on your beautiful profile, enhancing your delicate features: at this point, Choso’s gaze starts flickering in your direction every now and then, stealing sweet glances at your smiley face and landing on the side silhouette of your breasts, faintly lit by the fair light in the midst of the intimate darkness.

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as his eyes linger on your chest. He can feel the heat rising in his face from both embarrassment and desire.

He swallows hard while his grip on the armrest tightens…he knows he should behave but the sight of your perky boobs and the memory of the soft flesh under his touch is too much for him to bear…

So, as the movie plays on, Choso's hands begin to move, almost unconsciously, slipping under your tank top. You are taken aback by the sudden intrusion of his hands under your shirt and you whimper slightly. His touch is gentle as usual, but you can feel a hint trembling trepidation in the way his fingers glid slowly over your skin, tracing light circles and exploring the smoothness of your stomach and back.

You turn to him and smile softly at his red-cheeked expression: He tries his best to keep a stoic expression, his eyes still fixed on the movie screen, but his breath hitches slightly, and his heart rate quickens as he continues to caress your skin beneath your shirt.

He leans in closer as if seeking more contact, his breath hot and ragged against the side of your neck, the movie long forgotten, as his touch grows more and more daring: his fingers start grazing along the edge of your bra. His heart is racing, the desire growing undeniable, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck.

“Baby… you feel so good under my hands, your skin is so soft…” he murmurs shyly against your neck.

“Oh Cho…you are so sweet” you giggle “but we’re at the cinema right now…someone might see you” you scold him playfully, placing a hand on his wandering one.

“I know baby and I'm so sorry ....but you look so beautiful now…how can I be so lucky to have you all for myself?” He says softly and leaves an open-mouthed kiss at the base of your neck. “Please let me touch you…I need that” he looks at you with those puppy eyes and your heart melts… “ok…seems like someone's cuddly today…”

He blushes as you kiss his forehead and lean closer to him, giving him better access to your body. His hands continued to explore, one sliding up along your spine, sending another shiver down your back as he traced the edge of your bra again. You whimper as you feel his hands cupping your breasts through the fabric of your bra, his touch almost desperate as his hands trace its lace …you try to concentrate on the film but it gets so damn difficult with him fidgeting with the edge of your underwear.

“Cho…what are you doing?” You distractedly whisper to him, completely engrossed in the movie as you are. He leans in even closer, his body now fully pressed against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your ear as his hands grow bolder, more insistent in their touch. He stops for a second, fighting his urges to feel your bare breasts in his hands, but his hands quickly move again, carefully slipping beneath the lace of your bra,his fingertips grazing your soft skin as he palmed the swell of your mounds. Feeling the warmth radiating from them, Choso have to bite his lip to stifle a moan.

He whimpers softly as he fondles your bare breasts, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers over and over again. You feel heat in between your thighs as he pinches and tugs desperately, sending shivers down your spine. But Choso continues to knead and tease your nipples, his own arousal growing more insistent with each touch. You shift in your seat and you stiffen when you feel his hips grinding subtly against your thigh, his erection straining against the fabric of your clothes. You turn to face him and let out a moaned whisper: “Cho?”

"Mmm, I’m sorry,yn..but your boobies are perfect…I can't stop thinking about your nipples, how hard they get under my touch…and now…” he stops and blushes deeply “I need you so badly…I’ve been hard for half of the movie but I didn't want to disturb you…you seemed so caught up by the plot" he breathes against your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “But I can't take it anymore now…it's so hard it hurts” he admits shyly, grinding his hips insistently against you to make you feel his aching needy cock. “Please…can we leave for a sec…I swear it won't take long…I feel like I am already about to explode but I need your help…now…please…” he lets out a strangled groan when his cock brushes against the fabric of your skirt. You feel powerful right now, amazed by the power you have on your pretty boyfriend, all needy and wrapped around your fingers. You decide to tease him a little more.

“Poor Cho…you’ve been this hard for all of this time?” You place a hand on his crotch and he whimpers like a boy at the touch, nodding his head while biting his lower lip. “Please…can we go to the bathroom?”

You smile softly at him and nod. Without hesitation, he stands up abruptly, nearly knocking over the popcorn bucket in his haste to enjoy of your consent. Choso grabs your wrist, yanking you up and leading you towards the exit, almost stumbling over the dimly-lit treads of the hall.

Once inside, you enter a lavatory and lock the door behind you. His breath is ragged and he just stands in front of you whispering embarrassed words of apology. He looks so cute, all flushed and needy, with his big bulge straining in his pants.

You place your index on his lips, shushing him: “ No need to apologize baby, that movie is not even half as entertaining as seeing you like this…now shut up and let me take care of you…tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you” you encourage him, looking straight into his eyes. Your hands find their way under his shirt now, caressing his toned abdomen and heading downwards, tracing his V-line with feathers like touches. He tilts his head back under his touch, lleaning against the bathroom door, and lets out a shaky sigh: “I’ll accept…ngh…Whatever you’re willing to give me… your hands, your mouth…just please… let me cum…I can’t hold back anymore…I need to feel you” he sounds desperate right now, as you free his throbbing shaft from the constraint of his pants. It springs out, long and thick, already leaking a copious amount of pre-cum from the swollen pink tip.

You look up to him through your eyelashes, giving him a Bambi-like innocent look: “Want me to get on my knees for you and suck you off, baby? Would you like that?” Choso's eyes widen at the suggestion, melting in front of your sweet eyes as he lets out another deep, shaky exhale. "Oh god, yes... Please, Yn. I need your pretty mouth wrapped around me so badly… Please” His pupils are now dilated with lust, while he lets out desperate pleas.

You drop on your knees in front of him, taking his big cock deep inside your mouth without warning. “Fuck yes, YN!" Choso moaned loudly, practically panting with need. You burst out in a spontaneous laugh against his tip, tickling it and sending waves of pleasure throughout his whole being. He has to hold on to the doorknob at the sensation not to cum all over your face right here and there.

“We have to be quiet,Cho…people are just outside this door, anyone could walk in on us at any moment…will you be quiet for me,baby?”

He blushes even more deeply, and you wonder if this is the most flustered state you have ever seen your boyfriend in: "I promise I'll be quiet. For you, I'll do anything. Please don't tease…or I won't hold back…I’m about to explode on your face…ahh baby…Imma cum all over your beautiful face...I wish I could see you all covered in my cum…but I don't wanna ruin your makeup" he whispers, his voice husky with need, "I’m about to make a mess… please continue” his hips jerks forward, burning his cock inside your mouth and deepthroating you, pushing his long shaft deep down your throat. You gag slightly at the sensation, and tears form at the corner of your eyes, but you endure it and soon adjust to the constricting feeling.

“Sorry, baby…” he lets out a strangled apology while desperately buckling his hips back and forth, the thrill of finally feeling his realise approaching blinding his senses, he rocks his hips uncontrollably fast into your mouth, letting the door behind him creek at every thrust “ I know it's a lot to take…but your mouth is so warm…so welcoming…ohhh…I’m going to cum… ohhh..your lips…fuck…you take me so well…I can't hold back…I need to fuck your mouth so bad…” even in the midst of his chase for lust, he is still the sweet boyfriend he is: his hands cups your cheeks gently as he starts to thrust more forcefully, hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. Pre-cum leaks from his tip, dripping down your chin and adding to the slickness already coating your lips and tongue.

"Sorry I’m making such a mess…ohhhh I can't help it... You turn me sooo on… promise I’ll clean you up after…” he murmurs breathlessly, his balls drawing up tight against his body. "I'm getting close... don't stop, please." You clench your lips around his tip, sucking hard and swirling your tongue around him, obtaining a series of muffled little moans.

Choso's thrusts become erratic as he nears the edge, his cock pulsing in your mouth. With a final, guttural moan, he comes undone, spilling a wave of his hot seed down your throat in thick, creamy ropes. "Fuck, YN! Yes! Swallow it all please!" he cries out, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm.

As he comes down from his high, he looks down at you with a satisfied, loving gaze. “Thank you so much…you were amazing…sorry if my control slipped…” he says softly, blushing and caressing your cheeks while you still caress his finally softening cock…he helps you stand up and kisses you sweetly, tasting the the salty lingers of his cum on your tongue. “ You swallowed it all…” he exclaimed, staring at your lips in awe. “Couldn't waste a drop of it…you looked so hot” you smirk at him and he feels his cock twitch in his pants once again

“As soon as the movie’s over I’ll take you home and take care of you too…I’ll eat you out for good and I’ll make sure you cum as hard as I did now” he rushes a trail of promises to you and you can read it in his eyes: in this moment, he would you the whole world. You peck his lips smiling. “Let’s get out of here first…before the others notice we’ve disappeared” you take his hand in yours and make your way out of the bathroom.

Indeed,the movie has already ended and Yuji and the others are already chatting at the gates: “Oh, here you are where have you been?” You are greeted by Yuji’s clueless smile and Choso feels a midst of embarrassment and arousal at his innocent remark. “the guys and I were thinking before: what about grabbing dinner together?” You are about to answer but you are cut off by an unusually excited Choso: “Sorry little bro, YN and I already have an…appointment…to attend…we are already in a rush by the way… see you tomorrow and enjoying your evening, guys!” He rushes an excuse before dragging you out the building. You laugh into the cool evening air …you were up for a long night!

My 🔥 JJK MATERIALIST 🔥 here

[pia-nor481]

She…What? Chapter Three

Daniel Ricciardo x reader | Lando Norris x reader Smut 18+

2.2k words

Chapter Two | Series Masterlist

She awoke to a quiet and soft knock to the hotel door and reluctantly removed the soft covers from her skin. After slipping off the bed she slowly walked towards the door, knowing who was behind it; Daniel liked to be with her in he morning, he always had. While rubbing her eyes slightly she pulled the door open. "Oh, don't pout." Daniel laughed quietly, "You know you like me." He was a bit cocky and that annoyed her at times, but she moved slightly, allowing him to enter. "But you woke me up." She whined quietly, following Daniel back towards the bed. "Are you not supposed to be preparing for the free practice?" She was right, but he chose to ignore her, as his hands made contact with her hips, pulling her up and ,on instinct, she wrapped her legs around his torso. As she kissed him passionately, all of his thoughts were plagued with her, feeling a rush of arousal shoot through his body.

"Hey, I am preparing, a good bit of fasted cardio to start my day." She laughed into his skin as soon as he started to speak. Daniel was charming in his own way, usually nerdy jokes with a bad punch line, but it always worked on her. His knees met the bed quickly, he placed her on the covers softly and made quick work of removing his clothes to climb up on the queen sized bed. She was waiting patiently for him to rest against the many pillows against the headboard. This had become a routine of theirs: before the start of a race weekend he would find a way to sneak into her room and sometimes fuck her senseless, but other times, like now, he would show her true passion and give her the softest side of himself.

She swung her leg over his, straddling him finally. Daniel's hand made contact with her jaw to pull her closer, connecting their lips once more. His other hand slid down from her waist towards her cunt, he wanted to toy with her slightly, he liked to make her beg even if he was the desperate one. Opening her mouth slightly, she let his tongue explore her mouth, he wanted to feel her everyway he possibly could and this was his favourite, it was just so intimate, so loving and it just felt perfect. The kiss was filled with urgency as his fingers began to rub her clit lightly, putting just enough pressure to make her moan into his mouth, a sound ,and a feeling, he loved. She pulled away to see him once again, a sweet smile adorned his face, she knew how much he loved hearing her voice, especially when it was laced with ecstasy. "Be good." He muttered, hands gripping her hips tight. Her only response was a quiet hum and nod as he lined his cock up with her wet cunt, pushing just the tip in very slowly, allowing her to become accustom to the full feeling. Daniel felt a tight pressure on his arm as her head fell back slowly, enjoying the feeling of her cunt stretching ever so slightly. Letting out a quite sigh, Daniel pulled her closer, letting her chest become flush with his. "I know, already feels so good." Daniel loved to talk, especially when he could talk her through it.

She raised her hips slowly before sinking down fully, taking all of his cock; gripping his arm for support, she began to lift and drop her hips at a relatively slow pace, ensuring he was as deep as possible, pulling a quiet hiss from his and the unexpectedly tight feeling. Daniel's hands rested on her ass in an attempt to control the speed of her bouncing, he liked to be in charge, no matter what. Her hands left his chest to rest behind her, gripping his thighs tightly as she began to rock her hips slowly, desperate to fell him against her g-spot. "That's it, make yourself feel good on my cock." Daniel loved when she was on top, watching her become blissed out, eyes rolled back as pleasure painted her face, all because of him. He has an ego and he knows it, he wants her and only her, he wants her to feel good, and he wants to be the one giving her that pleasure. The feeling of him was overwhelming and she could barely form a coherent sentence as he aided her movements. Daniel continued to guide her hips with one hand, the other rubbing her clit with a good pressure, heightening her pleasure. His groans became louder as he felt her cunt convulse around him. "Cum for me. That's it...so good." She couldn't resist it anymore, soaking him. The intense clenching of her cunt made pleasure corse through his whole body as if he was on cloud nine.

The room was filled with quiet breathing as she continued to see white. Daniel's hands rubbed up and down her back as her head remained buried in his neck. "So perfect." He wasn't usually one to talk in ways like this, he preferred to show his love physically, so she cherished every praise from his mouth. They kissed once again, more sweet than before, more comforting. Daniel pulled her up and carried her towards the shower, turning tap so it was a little hotter than he was used to, creating steam. They often showered together, more often than not it lead to a second round. With their bodies covered in soap, their lips connected slow and full of venerability; Daniel had always said that kissing was more intimate than sex, at first she didn't believe him, what she didn't realise was that he was not talking about kissing in general, but kissing him.

"You just can't take your hands off me." She stated as if it was a crime. "Well it's hard to resist." He said quickly, squeezing her tits, laughing as her reaction. Her gasp was loud, but not filled with distaste. "You better watch yourself." She spoke with a pointed tone, grabbing him more rough than usual, an empty threat he was used to. "Or what? You'll punish me?"

Once dried off, after Daniel complaining that he may have third degree burns, he looked through all of her clothes and pick a relatively comfortable outfit for her, and something slightly more smart for himself, deciding that the team uniform could wait. That was until he noticed the orange hoodie in the corner of the room. He assumed it was Lando's and went to grab it, thinking it would be easier for him to give it back. But as soon as the fabric touched his hands he noticed the number. 81. That was definitely not Lando's. Daniel knew he couldn't control what she did or who she was with. But this upset him, he knew Lando was there last night, but Oscar too? Oscar Piastri, the rookie that took his seat. To say Daniel was displeased would be an understatement. Understanding fully that there could be no jealousy for this to work didn't stop him, of course he was not opposed to sharing, that was clear, but her not mentioning that Oscar was there angered him. Plus Lando not mentioning his teammate yesterday made the situation much worse. Daniel was pulled out of his haze when her feet padded across the wooden floor of the room, she'd finished her usual morning routine and was waiting on him. He threw the hoodie back on the floor and turned towards her with a wide smile, trying his best to hide his feelings. "Let's get going."

They were now sat across from each other, Daniel's plate followed his strict diet the best he could, with some treats, hers filled with things she actually liked; she questioned how he even found some of it as he place the drink in front of her. "How are you feeling about the race?" She questioned quietly, not looking up from her plate. Daniel questioned if he even wanted to answer the question, he couldn't describe the emotions he was feeling, although betrayal was one of them. "Danny?" She finally looked up, meeting his face with a hint of sadness, not realising the guilt this sent through him. "Yeah, sorry.... I think it's going to be difficult, just a harder track with this car. How are you darling?" He asked in a sweeter tone. "I'm good after this morning.... I can't wait for tonight." She said in a sultry tone, flirting the best she could. "Oh really, one not enough for you?" He teased, finishing his drink quickly upon seeing the time. "You should know one is never enough."

Daniel held her hand as they walked out of the hotel, once the reached the paddock his hand left hers in favour of her lower back, guiding her through the crowd. "I want to speak with Lando, is that okay?" She asked, knowing he couldn't say no. "Of course, I'll walk you there." Daniel knew she was just being polite, yet he wanted to deny her. As soon as the reached the orange building he kissed her cheek and walked away with an almost alarming pace. She was cautious of the slippery steps as she made way into the building. After waving at a few of the mechanics she was on the hunt for Lando's driver room, following the number 4s painting the walls. She knocked a few times, waiting for a response, after a while of waiting she assumed he was away somewhere, probably preparing, as Daniel should have been. "What? FP1 doesn't start for....3 more hours." Something was wrong, she's never heard him sound so agitated before. "Lando, it's me." She hurt a rushed shuffling before the door was opened, displaying a topless Lando. "Come in." He huffed, not in an annoyed manner, but not particularly welcoming either.

"What's going on?" Her question remained unanswered as he looked for a shirt of some kind. "Lando." His name didn't leave her mouth the same way it did the day prior, now her voice was filled with concern. "I'm fine... Honestly, I just can find a few of my things. But it's okay. I don't NEED them." He muttered, tiding the small room. "Since we have a few hours until free practice, can we talk a little bit?" She almost whispered, sitting down on the bed, Lando turned to her with a small smile, and sat as close as possible without hesitation. "Yes." She laughed at his shift in tone. What shew didn't notice was the whirlwind of sensations he was feeling. His breaths were becoming shallow in anticipation, he was expecting the worse, it was an unfortunate skill he had developed over his years in formula one. "I said before that it would take a while for me to discover and therefore discuss you kinks, turn ons et cetera, and considering I've had your cock in my mouth, it might be easier for you to say." He let out a shaky laugh, releasing tension, as his lips curved upwards. "Yeah, I think that may have helped...Come here." He shifted back slightly and pulled her onto his lap, needing to be as close as possible, the hunger from before resurfacing. "Well, I like a lot of things... I love to be in control, and maybe a little bit of impact play......but I've not gone further than a few taps." He said with the upmost honesty, no longer worried about her judgment. His hands slowly raked up her spine, resting on the base of her neck, applying the smallest amount of pressure. "And some choking." He smirked, feeling her shift at the feeling. "Lando." She whined with a wide smile, enjoying his presence and his touch.

"So what about you baby? Anything you like?" He asked with a low voice, tempting her further. "I like it rough, Lando, can you do that for me?" He groaned loudly at her question, his head falling back. "Look what you're doing to me. Fuck....I'm so hard, baby." He grabbed her hips, forcing her to rock and grind hard into his lap.

"Lando."

They both stopped moving, staring at each other . Oscar was behind that door looking for his teammate. Free practice was starting soon and the rest of the team were obviously in need of Lando's presence before he got into the car. She rushed off his lap and practically hid in the corner of the room as Lando rushed to put his race suit on. "Yeah one sec." He was panicked when he realised that he actually had to open the door to leave. She chuckled lightly waiting for Lando to collect himself. Opening the door slightly he was met was an overly excited Aussie. "Come on, Zak needs you." Oscar said, looking Lando up and down as he slid the the small opening of the door. What Oscar didn't mention was the women he saw resting on his teammates bed. He was slightly confused because Lando said that he met her only a few days prior, now she was already on his bed. It was strange to say the least. Oscar knew he couldn’t ask, it wasn’t his place, but that didn’t stop his investigation.

Chapter Four

[lesbianpepsi]

sweet like cinnamon

pairing: jenna ortega x blind!fem!reader

summary: you fell in love with her voice years before you fell in love with her.

link to request

series masterlist

words: 2.619k

warnings: reader makes blind jokes?, light swearing, bad writing

authors note: this isn't my best work which i heavily apologise for, life has been a real mess lately and i just haven't been enjoying it at all🫠🫠

Nobody in this world has the same voice; nobody. Some might have similar sounding voices but nobody's is identical.

You didn't really notice that until you were fifteen years old, the young tragic age you turned blind. You were the one in a million that was born with thrombophilia (blood clotting disorder) which resulted in you getting vessel occlusion in your eyes, making you slowly become more blind as the years passed until it completely vanished. 

It was horrible in the beginning, to tell the truth but as the years passed the more you got used to being blind and the more you became okay with it. 

The one thing you didn't appreciate enough when you had sight was people's voices. When that was the only thing that could help you detect who was talking to you, you became entranced by peoples voices. 

The soft spoken people, the gruffly sounding people, the neutral sounding people. You loved hearing people's voices, but there was one voice you had completely fell entranced to, like a pirate to a sirens mystical voice. 

A actresses voice. 

You have never heard such a soft and relaxing voice before in your entire life. It was as sweet as honey; warming your heart as a smile played on your lips whenever you heard the voice.

The first time you heard her voice was when you were sixteen, your friend had invited you over to watch a random horror movie 'The Babysitter: Killer Queen.' 

In honesty you didn't enjoy the movie at all, finding it boring and annoying at times. But one thing compelled you into watching it; one voice. 

The voice of the character Phoebe who was played by 'America's It Girl' Jenna Ortega. 

Her voice was so soft spoken yet it had that gentle raspiness to it that captured all of your attention, her calming voice soothing you in a way that even surprised you. 

You were utterly fixated on it. 

After that day you proceeded to find out what other movies she had been in, listening to them all at least once.

The more movies you listened to, the more you became in awe of the calming voice of Jenna Ortega.

As you grew up, your fangirl behaviour died down. You didn't religiously listen to her voice as you did in your teens, but you'd never forget her sweet voice. 

—————

"C'mon Yelena." You whispered to your guide dog, the grip to her harness in your left hand while your right hand was occupied with your mobility cane, running it along the pavement as you walked down the street, the golden retriever leading you towards your favourite cafe. 

It was a warm Thursday morning, the sun shined brightly over the town you lived in, warming you up as you walked down the quiet street.

You didn't have a particularly busy day that day, so you decided to head down to the local cafe. 

The place was a family run cafe that you absolutely adored for a myriad of reasons. Its loving atmosphere, the best coffee you ever had and your own signature booth at the corner of the cafe. 

It was honestly like your second home at this point.

As you rounded the final corner you smiled to yourself and walked over the one crooked step on the sidewalk, remembering exactly where it was like the back of your hand.

With a few more steps you felt Yelena slow down as she prepared to face the cafe door, you smiled down at her as you gave her a quick pat before you pushed the door open, the familiar ring reaching your ears as you entered the cafe. 

You and Yelena walked over to the booth in the corner with a smile on both of your lips. As you reached the booth you loosened your grip on Yelena's harness, knowing you'd be okay without her and the fact she was an extremely well behaved dog.

Leaning your cane against the corner booth seat, sighing as you listened to the sound that filled your ears.

Idle chatter heard was the first thing you could hear the second being low music that played throughout the cafe, a Taylor Swift song that you didn't know the title of. 

As you focused even further you suddenly heard quiet breathing from the booth. You snapped your head instantly in the direction of the noise, flushing red with embarrassment.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't know someone was in the booth." You rushed out slightly embarrassed, not expecting someone in so early and in the booth.

A quiet whimsical laugh filled your ears, you tilted your head to the side. You knew that laugh, it sounded so familiar.

"No it's my fault for not saying anything before, I'm really sorry." The woman apologised back, a small laugh still noticeable in her voice.

Your eyes widened dramatically behind your thick black sunglasses, you definitely knew that voice. 

As you tried not to physically explode when you realised Jenna Ortega was sitting in front of you, you rubbed the back of your neck as you smiled crookedly.

"I should've asked if someone was here, nobody's usually at this booth, especially this early in the morning." You explained to her as you clicked your fingers, Yelena swiftly moved to your side, her harness already between your fingers.

"Honestly you don't have to apologise, we can share the booth if you'd like?" She offered in a honey sweet voice, her voice enchanting you as it did when you were sixteen.

You honestly couldn't believe your absolute luck, I mean it's not everyday you'd run into Jenna fucking Ortega. 

Loosening your grip on Yelena's harness you gave an eager nod to her, smiling brightly. "Yeah that sounds great." You told her as you slowly sat down, Yelena moving to sit down on the floor next to you.

"I'm Jenna." She says, you smile at her as you extend your hand to her direction. "Pleasure to meet you Jenna, I'm Y/n." 

Her soft hand met yours as she gave it a gentle shake, her fingers having a strong yet a gentle grip on your hand. It was as if electricity coursed through your veins the moment her palm connected with yours, tingling your entire body from your fingertips to your ears.

Your and Jenna's hands lingered there for longer than any handshake should be, as if both of you didn't want to take your hands back. 

Slowly, you and the brunette did eventually pull away as you smiled nervously at her, still heavily intimidated that you were currently sitting in a cafe with Jenna Ortega.

"Are you a regular here?" She asked once the two of you had duly pulled away, her hand grasping around her mug. You nodded your head as you smiled softly. "Yeah I've been coming here for years. You?"

Jenna smiled at you as she sipped her coffee, a gentle smile toying on her lips. "I just found this place a few months ago and have been coming here at least two times a week ever since then. I've never seen you here before though."

You snorted out a laugh. "I've definitely not seen you." 

Jenna stumbled over her words as she let out a nervous laugh, not knowing how to respond to your joke. Most people didn't know how to react whenever you made a joke about your blindness. They'd always get flustered as if they'd offend you if they'd laugh at your joke. 

"You can laugh, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't want you to laugh." At that Jenna finally let out a genuine laugh, not a nervous awkward laugh people do when they don't know whether to laugh or not.

Your heart fluttered in your chest the same way it did when you were sixteen as you heard her laugh, it still being one of the most heavenly things you had ever heard. 

As her laughter died down Jenna was leaning on her hand as she gazed at your features, a smitten smile already on her face.

"Why've you been coming here for years?" Jenna asked curiously, her sole focus still on you. You purse your lips momentarily as you think of an actual reason. "Well, I've been told the place is beautiful and they serve the best cinnamon latte I've ever tasted." 

Jenna grinned as her eyes flickered down to her drink, a cinnamon latte; her favourite.

"Is that your favourite?" She voiced as her slender fingers wrapped around the warm mug. You nodded your head with your own smile on your lips. "Yeah, been my favourite forever. The ones here are just so strong it beats any other cafe." 

Jenna hummed as she sipped her latte. "That I agree with." 

 You grinned at her as you felt more relaxed with the entire situation, relaxing into your chair as you listened intently to her.

Footsteps were heard coming in your direction, light but they were still noticeable. You moved your head in the direction of the footsteps as you smiled, you already knew who it was from the footsteps.

"Nance, great to hear you again." You greeted her with a grin, the old woman cackled as she arrived at your booth.

"Y/n, my favourite customer. How've you been, dear?" She asked as she bent down to place the dog bowl full of cold water and a few ice cubes for Yelena, the golden dog greedily began slurping away at the beverage the moment it touched the ground.

You nodded your head weakly. "Mediocre but much better now since I arrived here." Nancy let out a quick chuckle as she shook her head. "One cinnamon latte, I'm guessing?"

"You know me too well." You answered with a smile as you turned back to face the woman sitting across from you. 

"You want another one, Jen?" She asked as she turned to face her; Jenna nodded her head with a polite smile on her face. "Please."

Nancy nodded her head as she scribbled away on her christmas notepad. "Two cinnamon lattes for the two lovely ladies. Enjoy your date girls." She said with a mischievous grin that only Jenna witnessed before she turned away to go make your drinks.

You blushed heavily, looking down as you hoped Jenna wouldn't notice it. Little did you know Jenna herself had a soft blush that tainted her cheeks beautifully.

Coughing, you covered your hand with your mouth as you picked your head back up, your face facing Jenna's. 

"Great minds think alike?" 

Jenna laughed lightly as she looked at you in awe. "Only the greatest."

You quickly realised that conversation between you and Jenna flowed by swiftly. 

Jenna eventually did bring up the fact she was a well known actress, to which you simply replied with what you knew. 

She was slightly surprised but it didn't change how she spoke to you, and it never changed for you once.

Both you were so lost in your own small world in the corner of the cafe neither of you even noticed how much time had passed. 

As you were telling her the story of how you almost died twice in the same holiday her phone rang loudly, interrupting you quite rudely. 

Jenna groaned as she glanced at the screen, her face souring as she noticed her time with you was up.

"It's my manager, probably wondering where I am." She explained as she declined the call, clicking the 'Sorry, I can't call right now.' option as she shoved her phone into her pocket.

You exhaled as your fingers played with the empty mug in front of you. "Duty calls?" 

Jenna frowned as she nodded her head, growing the urge to throw her phone out the window as she felt the low vibrations of the text messages from her boss. 

"Unfortunately." She grumbled as she looked at her half empty cup of latte. You smirked at her as you stopped moving your fingers. "What, you don't wanna leave me or something?" 

"Nah, I just don't wanna go listen to my manager yap for hours." 

"Wow, being mean to a blind woman? I'll cancel you for that, Ms Ortega." You remarked with a playful smile, chuckling yourself. 

Jenna shook her head amused as she ignored the onslaught of messages from her manager.

"Cancel me? Oh no, what could I do to make you rethink your decisions?" Jenna asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she lifted her mug to take another sip of her drink.

Your mouth was running much faster than your mind, before you could even process the words coming out of your mouth you replied back to her in a confident voice.

"Take me out on a date." You answered in lightning speed with a nervous smile, a blush appeared on your cheeks moments after you noticed what you said. 

Jenna was silent for a moment, in that small moment your confidence was easily diminished as your fear began increasing as fast as your heart beat. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from. I know we just met and I probably just made you really uncomfortable." You apologised as you tilted your  head down.

"Y/n." Jenna said.

You ignored her as you kept apologising to her, you had already convinced yourself she was going to reject you and thought you were weird.

"I honestly don't know what came over me, I probably just ruined any small potential of a friendship we could've had by that." You carried on apologising, unaware of the delighted smile on Jenna's face.

"Y/n." She said with a more firm tone, her voice raised to steal your attention. Gingerly you lifted your head, that scarlet red hue still tainted your cheeks. 

"I'd love to go on a date with you." Jenna exclaimed in her sweet voice that practically made your nervous frown flip into a boisterous smile. 

"Really?" You asked in disbelief. 

Jenna laughed as she nodded her head, her smile so wide she was showing her pearly whites to the world. 

"Really." She confirmed as she lowered her empty mug, placing it next to yours. "I'd love nothing more if I'm being honest."

You beamed at her words, your heart never calmed down as you still couldn't believe Jenna Ortega said she wanted to go on a date with you.

Abruptly, Jenna's phone rang loudly once again, making you and Jenna annoyed at the distribution. 

"Can I have your number?" Jenna asked you as she ignored the ringing, you nodded your head eagerly. 

"Oh thank god you asked for it, I was so scared you were gonna say something like 'fate will  bring us together again.'" You replied as you took out your phone from your pocket, passing it over to Jenna.

She giggled as she looked for your number on your phone. "You don't believe in fate or something?"

You shook your head. "Oh no, I  believe in fate. I just don't think fate would let me magically see you and spot you in public." You joked as Jenna began entering her own number into your phone after she was done with hers. 

Jenna didn't say anything as she chuckled quietly, passing your phone back to you.

"I really have to leave now, otherwise my manager will actually send a team looking for me." Jenna apologised with a sigh. You laughed softly as you smiled as softly at her.

"I'll call you?" She asked as you heard her shuffle out of her side of the booth. Your head followed the movement of the noise, nodding your head with a smile. 

"I'll be waiting." 

"I won't make you wait too long." 

—————

a/n: fun fact, i fucking hate cinnamon with a passion

[singukieee]

—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 4) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ editor's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Stay by OT7oramI

Y/N and her hybrid best friend, Jin, have known each other since Jin was eight years old and came to live with Y/N and her family. Throughout the years, Y/N and Jin have grown closer but there is one major secret between them. When an injured hybrid comes into Cherry Blossom Sanctuary where they both work, the secret is revealed. What will become of the friendship between Y/N and Jin when others are added to it?

Storms of Fate by SumiSG7

A darkly forbidden Auction in the veils of night catering to the morbid appetites of the wealthy in a world of legalized slave hybrids. Results in A melody of storm uniting the fates of a powerful Heiress with 7 mysteriously seductive & deadly hybrids The dark spiralling descent into the fever of passion & longing entwining their hungers while being targeted by an unknown enemy. What will be the result of the lethal games to Anya & the hybrids caught in a velvety prison of their own cravings for each other. But slowly, the realization trickled in… All was not normal as it should be, the love they forged, was a test of devotion that was still withstanding the time since before time began…

🗯️ too freaking good... but also really dark and sometimes sweet. I don't think I've ever read an ff as well-written as this one. plot's insane too. (this is actually a whole universe with side stories that you would be told to read along the way to understand the lore, so good it's crazy that it's free)

Sweet as Honey by sugakookie98

In a time where omegas are increasingly rare, others constantly question your resistance to find a mate. No one seemed to understand that you were content to stay in your comfort zone, focusing solely on your job. However, a series of unexpected events set your quiet world into motion, making you question your outlook on life and on mating bonds.

🗯️ another Idk what to say but it's really good

The Butterfly Effect by themonsterteddy

Easily attached hybrids get adopted into a family. Lei, the protagonist, is the quietest member of the family. Follow them to explore the lovely bond developing between them.

🗯️ a super warm read <3

The Butterseries by @minniepetals

Their names alone had every men and women turning their heads and falling at their feet. successful, prestigious, handsome, rich, and untouchable to anyone that looked their way. and you? you were just an employee who worked for them. who would’ve known you meant so much more to them than you could ever imagine?

The Byeoljali series by LittleShyGirl

❶ Finding A Place

As an isolated, lonely omega raised by humans, you have little understanding of how other wolves live. When you take a promotion to become a member of the BTS staff, your world collides with the Bangtan Pack and you realise you have a lot to learn.

❷ Making A Home

Now that she's found where she belongs, follow Y/N as she learns how to truly be a part of the Bangtan Pack.

The Companion by MoonChild791

After being fired, the job of a lifetime lands in your lap. You up root your life and moved to Seoul, only to find out you'll be working with your favorite group, BTS. Slowly, you start to develop feelings for them. But that's crazy, right? You can't have feelings for all seven of them, it would never work out.....would it?

The Contract by namjuicyy

Your life is turned upside down when a contract is pushed your way. But what happens if you sign it?

The Last Lycans by RoxNotRocks

Sometimes, a fateful encounter takes the form of a bullet through the head… After years of living as a wolf, alone in the wild, Yu has no memory of her past and no idea what her true nature is. As she attempts to begin anew and discovers that her fate doesn't have to be a lonely one, her lost secret comes back to haunt her. When your past comes back with a vengeance, should you flee, or fight?

The Line Between Love and War by @purpleyoonn

Your experiences told you that soulmates were something you would never have the pleasure of having; something not given to you because of who you are, despite the soulmark that resides on your inner left wrist. During your solo trip to Los Angeles, you find out that you are more than capable, that your soulmates had been waiting for you for a long time, and would not be letting you go anytime soon.

The Little Fox by @purpleyoonn

“The idea of being free was a foreign concept. Being free meant having choices, having opportunities. Being a hybrid meant never being free.” Just as you escaped the Little Fox, a bidding house, you find yourself at war with your thoughts, not wanting to go to another shelter. You didn’t expect yourself to find a home anywhere, especially not with the men who found you, and their pack.

The Pictures That Talk by @imnotlauriane

In a world where everyone has a special ability, mine is giving life to pictures. It allows me to see what happened behind the camera, reliving the moment when it was taken, as the subject. It's something I really cherish, but it can also come with great pain, so it's to be used carefully. I look at my finger, rings of fate black and cold. And I wonder, will I ever meet my soulmates?

The Seven by chewymilkyoda

When a young 17 year old girl and her friend went to an empty mansion that is reported as 'haunted', she never knew that her life would changed when she accidentally woke up 7 dangerous vampires that has been asleep for centuries. And boy is she in for a long-ass ride of fantasy shit that she never even knew about.

The Seven Princes by wassap_its_hunter

Being known as Nyx, you never had an easy life. With the expectations of being the world's best-renowned assassin and hunter, protector of your people, and a babysitter of five children, you can't really expect to have time in your hands to relax, the world being run by werewolves, witches, vampires, mermaids and more. But now, another role has been added. After hearing the princes of the biggest empire in the world, the Asian Kingdom, say the word "mate", you're scared for what is about to come. But then again you're Nyx, one of the very few humans that survived and became known, you could take a challenge like that.

🗯️ mc is so cool and the boys are whipped. my favourite.

The Seven Red Flags of HAKON University by tinyeyecat / emi ree

Born in the hell hole of Space Port 69, Rue’s a human Omega desperate to leave the alien whore house she calls home. Defying all odds, she masquerades as an Alpha and obtains a scholarship to the Ivy League of all space institutions. HAKON University is an all-male school that trains the cream of the crop—future leaders of the galaxies. Rue's just here to graduate, pretend to have a dick and then flee into the workforce, that is until the legendary Bangtan pack sets their eyes on her. They’re the future emperors—aliens with godlike abilities that make them rulers of their species. But with excessive power comes the price of testosterone-fuelled insanity that cannot be soothed. An esper will always need his guide. They’ve been searching for a final member to quell their raging soul-an eighth to complete their pack. Millions have tried for a taste of the peak, but none have succeeded, and thousands die from their power unable to withstand the bond. Bangtan doesn’t chase their prey, they don’t have to, but this time the seven Alphas want Rue.

🗯️ it's emi ree so it's gonna be insane!

The Siren's Song by PurpleQueenie

Modern day Seoul and myths don't go along hand in hand as easily as one might think. When for centuries (Y/N) has been bound to the Ocean, serving her duty as a siren- waiting for the day when it'll finally end, who knew stumbling across seven different souls would've been the reasons she needed to start living again, feeling again- even if it meant losing herself in the process.

🗯️ this might be my ultimate fave among queenie's stories. it's just soo good. mc who became the best version of herself after meeting the boys who support her despite the villain's constant torture. also, mc is just so full of life despite the ... it's amazing, go read it!

Through Her Eyes series by Gigi_Luv_4u

❶ Through Her Eyes

In the world of soulmates, perhaps Daun is the only one who does not expect for any soulmate to come. She doesn't have the soul marks that everyone supposed to have. Not one ink on her skin, no time marks on her wrists, no glowing red strings... but why does one day, seven gorgeous men claims to be her soulmate? And these seven are none other than the greatest boy band in the world?

❷ Through Her Eyes: Eternal

Multiples puffing out to the open has been on the news, but not as often as Daun with her seven. Now, more than ever, people have made their lives more than just a curious entertainment. Snippets of their married lives have become great treasures of inspirations that the entire world would simultaneously coo. No one can't blame them with how adorable they have cultivated their marriage to an inspiring one. Not to mention with the new additional members that surely adds more life to their already dynamic universe. Or… How does a family of Multiples go through their lives?

To Be, Or Not To Be Your Omega by Anonymous

Which would be harder? To be an Omega in an Alpha's world, or to have to play Omega to a pack of Alpha's that's known across the WHOLE world? As if disguising your gender truth isn't hard enough, how many omegas can say they have seven alphas that want to claim them? That went to the trouble of drafting up an overly generous contract just to have you as their omega? Oh, why did they have to find out your truth? Maybe it won't be so bad to be theirs, even if it's only by contract? After all, they're all so handsome, and smell so good, and— Is it wrong to have your inner omega cooing at the idea that this could become more than just your Omega status being taken advantage of like it's been all over the world?

To Be, or Not To Be Your Omega REBOOT by Anonymous

What would you do if you suddenly found yourself playing Omega to not just one, but seven world-renowned Alphas? Your struggle to conceal your true gender pales in comparison to this new challenge. These Alphas want to claim you. They've gone so far as to draft an outrageously generous contract just to have you as their Omega. But as your scent betrays your truth, you're left wondering: why did they have to find out? As you contemplate your fate, you can't help but think – maybe being theirs wouldn't be so bad, even if it's just by contract? After all, they're devastatingly handsome, their scents intoxicating, and... wait, is your inner Omega actually cooing at the idea? You've spent your life seeing Omegas taken advantage of across the world. Could this be different? Could this become more than just another power play? In this story, you'll navigate a world of primal instincts, hidden truths, and unexpected desires. Are you ready to step into the shoes of an Omega on the brink of a life-changing decisions?

Trouvaille by @spookyserenades

Until The Last Star Falls by Lov3Mochi / @minniepetals

In a world where hybrids are both the hottest commodity and largely exploited, a recent shortage of hybrids nationwide due to the wealthy adopting for sport hunting dominates the news headlines. More than ever, stray hybrids are whisked off the streets and taken into shelters to meet the demand. Mistreated, neglected, forgotten – in a notoriously disreputable hybrid shelter in a pocket of downtown Boston, seven “aggressive” hybrids await their inevitable fate of being sold for sport.

After years of trying to distance herself from her mystical past and upbringing, Y/N finds herself quitting her emotionally-draining job and is forced to face past mistakes. While accompanying her friends looking to adopt a child hybrid into their newly-formed family, Y/N inadvertently finds herself face-to-face with seven hybrids doomed to die. In a spur of the moment epiphany, Y/N decides to change the course of fate for the better; though bringing seven aggressive hybrids into her life and the darkening spiritual energy of her old home is trickier to navigate than she originally thought.

🗯️ I really appreciate the length of every chapter. like, so much details put into each and every chapter, and each chapter it just gets better and better.

It was a love you knew would never make it out alive without sacrificing a part of your happiness to receive a greater happiness. but for them, you’d go to any extreme to have them again, and for you, they will always remind you each day that you are theirs and that nothing can tear you apart, not even until the last star falls.

🗯️ so freaking good! a painful journey of love, full of longing and sacrifice.

You Never Walk Alone by @agustdakasuga

You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

사람 (People) by thearmyprof

You are preparing to move across the Pacific Ocean and start a new chapter in your life, when a chance meeting with a man in a coffee shop has you questioning the timing of everything in the universe. When you hit it off on your first date, little do you know that the man you’ve already fallen head over heels for is, in fact, a member of BTS.

🗯️ this story doesn't include any insane themes, but so enjoyable and heartwarming. the characters also feel human, well-written.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | NAVI

[minhosimthings]

You Belong To Me

Symphony Smut Series Day 4: Cat Peirce's You Belong to Me

Lyric: Do what you please to me, I won't resist

Pairings: Idol!Jake × idol!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (m, recieving), dom!Jake, sub!reader, maid costume eyy, handcuffs, p in v sex, protected sex, cum eating, throat fucking, overstimulation, Jake calls reader 'doll', free usage

A/N: Day 4 bishes!! Can I just say this one is my fav one so far. I just need to be used my Jake atleast once in my life IT'S A FANTASY OF MINE.

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

Jake was tired. And frustrated. And horny. And what better way to let his frustration out than to go home to his beautiful girlfriend and fuck the shit out of her?

You had received the text from Jake probably an hour ago, which very clearly stated to "doll up" for him. While you couldn't become an actual doll, you had been saving a particular maid outfit in the drawers for a long time, wanting to surprise Jake with it, if he ever needed to take a break from idol life.

Taking out the outfit from your drawers and putting it on, you marveled at yourself in the mirror, the dress barely hiding your ass, and hugging your chest perfectly, illuminating the place where Jake liked to mark you most.

Carefully placing all of Jake's favourite candles right where they need to be, your eyes fell upon your bedside drawer. Opening it, you smirked to yourself at what was inside it.

You were going to be Jake's doll and more tonight.

"Doll?" Jake's voice bounced off of the house's walls, as his eyes desperately searched for yours.

"Where the fuck is she?" He grumbled to himself, abandoning his bag and quickly running up the stairs of the house.

"Y/N, wher-"

Jake's words caught in his throat as he saw what was waiting for him inside his bedroom.

"Evenin, babe." You said, leaning on the bed and reading a book without a care in the world.

"Woah." Jake chuckled, inching closer to you, "Is this all for me, doll?"

"Yep." You pecked your lips against his, "Lay down, I got a surprise for you."

Jake's eyes darkened, as he slowly got onto the bed, unsure of what was happening. His eyes never left your ass in that perfect costume, as you bent over the drawer, to reach for something.

"Found it!"

Jake's mouth almost dropped.

The handcuffs.

Of course, how could he have forgotten about all those times he ate you out with the metal restraining you? Brats gotta be taimed ain't it?

"Baby~" he cooed, as you reached over to his hands, tightly cuffing them to the bed frame, "God I don't deserve you."

"We'll see about that." You giggled, pressing your mouth to the button of his shirt, slowly ripping each one off, until his abs were fully on display to you. Your perfume intoxicated Jake, pulling him into a limbo he didn't want to get out of.

"Ah fuck, doll." He moaned, feeling your hands play with his belt, as you undid his pants.

You finally got it free, and you pushed it aside to reveal his black briefs, the one you had helped him pick when you went shopping last week.

You could still feel how tight his body was strung up, and you let your eyes lift up to meet his, and you straightened.

"Christ, you drive me insane, baby."

You barely understood what he was mumbling in between his soft moans, but you didn't need to.The look in his eyes were enough words.

You slipped yours hands into his boxers, tugging it down as his hips lifted off the couch. He was already obscenely hard, and you could have sworn your mouth watered.

"If you are going to keep staring at me like that, I am not responsible for my actions." He muttered, his tone careful as if he was afraid to set you off.

"You are beautiful." You whispered and lifted your eyes in time to see him blush, visible even through the dim light.

You took that opportunity to ease him into your mouth, and Jake swore, both hands dying to drop to grip your hair, if they were not restrained.

You groaned, and you felt them retract, but before you could complain he started talking.

"You have no idea how amazing your mouth feels right now, doll." He groaned as you ease him more into your throat, breathing slowly through your nose.

Jake made a weird noise in the back of his throat, and you bit back a grin, moving backwards before swirling your tongue over and around the smooth head.

You couldn't help yourself as you looked up at him, and he had his hands over his face, and you could tell he was holding himself back, so you jerked forward until you gagged and he let out a string of curses.

“Just like that, baby.”

Using the grip his legs had around your neck, he pulled your head toward his hips, feeding his cock even deeper into your mouth.

It made your jaw ache, considering how big he was and how little you had taken in before, but you didn't feel nervous. Even though you had no control over how much he tried to shove in.

He waited for your nod before he did it again, and this time you leaned into it and tried to take him deeper. You knew when he breached the back of your throat, sliding in and you forced yourself to relax, breathing in through your nose.

It made you think you were a little sick to enjoy the way he was using your mouth, but you couldn't form a single thought as he thrust gently between your lips.

“Oh fuck. Yeah. Yeah, just like that. You are doing so good for me, baby.” His praise caused a fire to ignite in your belly, and he curled his fingers into your hair, effectively ruining your hair further.

You felt him shoot down your throat and his grip around your head slacked as you lifted your eyes to see him rest his head against the bedframe.

"Fuck you look so pretty." Jake chuckled, as you leant up to his level, the maid costume barely hiding your nipples, "So fucking pretty for me."

"And darling?"

"Yeah?"

"You didn't cuff me properly."

You barely had time to look up at the cuffs, as Jake's hands pressed against your cheeks, pulling you in for a deep kiss.

Jake could taste his own cum, smeared around your mouth, and it felt delicious.

His hands moved down to your tits, squeezing them tight, and kneading the hardened buds, while he kissed you with his tongue almost choking you.

"Oh fucking hell doll." He pulled away, to see your lipstick all smeared around your mouth, "You're so fucking perfect."

You had no time to think, as Jake flipped you over the matress, his figure now on top of you.

"Ahh Jake." You moaned, feeling his tip caress your cunt so gently.

"Already?" Jake chuckled, "Haven't even put it in yet, doll."

"Jake don't tease." You pouted, feeling his tip hug your pussy again, sending jets of pleasure through you.

"Nuh uh wait." Jake reached over you, to the bedside table, to get a condom, "Protection first."

"Why? You don't want to fuck a baby into me?" You teased him, slightly disappointed that he wasn't fucking you raw.

"You have no idea how much I'd love to do that." Jake whispered, "But I don't want you to be on hiatus for nine months, so maybe not now."

He sinks his cock slowly and gently. His hands trembling as he holds your hips in place, his other hand thumbing with your clit like you asked. His breath was shaking, he felt like he was going to shoot his cum inside you once he bottoms out.

His eyes dropping to your tits, his cheeks get pink. He slides his cock out of your pussy, watching it clench around nothing before thrusting back in, whining as he feels the warmth of your walls. You cunt hugging all the veins and curve of dick.

His eyes fall open as he lets out a grunt of surprise and pleasure, “Fuck.” His eyes glare at you, “Don't.” Your pussy only clenched further in reply and his hold gets harder, pressing your hand into the mattress as he sank in completely without a warning. “Ah!” You let out in surprise, the stretch painfully perfect.

“Take it,” he whispered to you, his lip biting your earlobe before he dragged his mouth to the pulse of your neck to mark you up properly as his property. His hips now beginning to move, calculated and controlled just like every other action of Jake. Every thrust hits your g-spot relentlessly, making you gasp and moan, back arching in pleasure.

The heat was already forming in your stomach, waiting to be released and spread all over your body. The final push hadn't come long after. As you and Jake shared a filthy open-mouthed kiss, he had thrust so hard and deep, a small bulge had formed, your cervix being kissed with his cockhead.

You cry his name and your pussy comes on his cock, milking his length with repeated squeezes. “That's it, doll” he praises as he continues to abuse your cunt with his dick. Your nerves are oversensitive making you whimper and teary-eyed. He found his release with a whimper, his hot cum almost filling your womb. He pulled out with a small gasp and you wanted him again.

"Fucking hell doll." Jake gasps, collapsing on your side, as you pant, you chest rising up and down. The costume had now been completely ripped apart, revealing your naked form, which Jake deemed his 'piece of art'.

"Don't worry I'll buy you a new one." He chuckled, pulling you into his arms.

"Wanna take a shower?"

"Another round? Sure."

Taglist: @ramenoil + taglist is open my babies!

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Actually in love with the Bayverse kiddo stories you’ve done they’re so cute!! I honestly can’t pick which one is my favourite but I think it’s a tie between the stories of Raph and Donnie catching their kids sneaking out of the lair/in the lab without permission - idk they’re just really cute to read I love them both so much!! 

If you’re still taking ideas for family centred Bayverse stuff, if you’re comfortable with it how do you think the turtles would react to knowing their s/o is pregnant?? With how the turtles are mutant and their s/o would be human, would any of the turtles even think it was possible to produce healthy offspring?? Who would be very taken aback/take a while to come to terms with the situation verses who would adjust fairly quickly??

The Turtles Reactions To You Being Pregnant (Fluff)

Children Series

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: I hope this is what you were looking for. It might not be exactly as you described, but I hope you’ll enjoy it none the less💚

Warnings: Implied connulingus, talk of infertility.

Leonardo:

When you first learned of your pregnancy, you were in absolute shock. Maybe even horrified. Here you had married a mutant turtle, never taking the time to care much for protection, as neither of you thought anything would come of it. You and Leo had hoped. Even talked about it, allowing each other to dream about it for a moment. Children. Actually having children together. A dream that neither of you ever really believed would become true. But then, when you suddenly started noticing a few symptoms, you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a test. And then another because you didn’t believe the first result. And then one more. And another. You broke down, both out of happiness, fear and shock. But that would be nothing compared to when you told your husband about it.

At first Leo refused to believe what you told him. He almost got mad at you, thinking that you were playing some cruel joke on him. No way you dared making fun of something you both had fantasized about for so long, slowly coming to terms with the fact that it would never happen. But as you stood before him, teary eyed, holding up not just one but several positive tests, Leo could no longer deny what was true.

Leo felt every emotion within a few seconds. Overjoyed excitement and shock. So much, that for the first time in Leo’s well controlled life, he lost all emotional control. He cried, laughed, yelled, sang and at one point even did a little dance as he hurried out to the living area, in order to tell his family.

But then the fear and worry came crashing. Never had a human and a mutant turtle reproduce together. There was no way of knowing if the child would be born healthy. Or if it even was safe for you to carry a hybrid within you.

That unlocked a whole new side of Leo. A nervous rack that started fearing the worst, holding your hand tight and almost hugging himself, as the two of you awaited the test results from the various checks Donatello had made on you.

The wait for answers almost made Leo sick. He was fidgety, never leaving your side, fearing what would happen if he did. He laid awake most nights, holding you and your still unchanged stomach close. It got so bad that Donnie started worrying more about his brother’s wellbeing instead of yours, taking time out of your daily checks to check Leo’s vitals.

Finally came the day of answers. Nothing was out of the ordinary - well, other than the hybrid child inside of you. But there was no evidence that your health was at risk, or that the child was in any arms way. Donnie even found evidence that suggested that the mugaten you would have been exposed to through Leo, might even make the process smoother.

And with that Leo could finally breathe a sigh of relief, finally letting himself relax, feeling his much needed sleep rush over him, dreaming of the day you and Leo would be holding your first child out of many.

Raphael:

The revelation that a human could in fact get impregnated by a mutant turtle, was a game changer for you and Raph. You could still remember the exact moment you and Raph looked at each other, realizing what this could mean for the two of you.

Yet, children had never really been something you and Raph had talked about. But the moment Leo and his partner started getting ready for their first child, it was as if your thoughts started spinning. Well, Raph’s more than yours. Of course, Raph had felt the need for mating during mating season, along with the thought of offsprings, but it never went much further than that. Until now.

Raph started finding himself daydreaming about you, him and any future children quite often. You and him, mixed together in a cute little bundle of pure happiness.

The final trigger was when Raph’s nephew was born, and Raph could finally see how a reality like this might be better than his daydreams. And that was when Raph finally decided to tell you that he wanted a child, and just how long he had been thinking about it.

And much to you and Raph’s excitement, it didn’t take long before the bees and the flowers did their thing, and you got pregnant with you and Raph’s first child. And when you told Raph about it, his reaction showed just how badly he wanted this. Letting out a victory roar, Raph pulled you in for a tight hug, lifting you off the ground and showering your face with kisses, before throwing you over his shoulder, so he could bring you with the good news to the others.

During the majority of your pregnancy, Raph was cool. Even before you got pregnant, it wasn’t strange for him to smack your ass whenever he walked past you, but now he took it to a whole other level. It was pretty much impossible for you to walk around the lair, without Raph making some sort of spicy remark about your current situation, and how feasting it was for his eyes. Who would have thought that your husband would have a thing for your body parts growing due to child baring?

But the closer and closer you got to your due date, the more nervous Raph seemed to get. Any sound, any movement, and Raph was ready at your side, thinking that it was your signal that it was time.

But the day you finally went into labor, Raph was an absolute wreck, almost needing more care than you did, with you and the others reminding him to breathe while you pushed your first born out.

Nonetheless, the moment your daughter was born, and Raph realized everything was okay, he seemed to get some color back in his face.

Donatello:

You had for a long time wanted children. You had talked about it a long time before anybody even knew it would be possible, often letting Donnie know your thoughts on the topic. But Donnie, not so much. He had never really spent much time thinking about it, outside of his mating season. When he wasn’t in the middle of the most animalistic of his urges, the mere thought of having to take care of a child of his own, made him feel somewhat strange.

But then, seeing two of his brothers and their partners becoming parents, along with helping them through the process, made Donnie’s mind race. First it was an innocent small thought. A child. Then it turned into more. You and him with a child. But not just any child. Your child. His child. And then, before Donnie knew it, the baby fever had started taking over.

You noticed it before Donnie, seeing how he acted around his nephew and niece. It was like he had done a 180, from never really engaging in your conversations about children, but just letting you talk on your own, to actively helping out his brothers. He even started asking them questions about parenting. And at that point, pretty much everybody knew what was going on inside Donnie’s head, and there was no way he could hide it anymore. He wanted a child.

Donnie went into this, a little more well thought out than his brothers had. Taking account of your cyclus, along with his mating season, and all of the other factors he could find, Donnie found the perfect time for you and him to try to have a child. But all of that planning flew out the window the moment his mating season hit, and you found yourself pregnant within a short time.

Donnie was pretty level headed throughout the whole thing. He had wanted this. He had planned for this. Of course he was a little nervous. Who wouldn’t be? But he had to keep calm, for you and for the kid.

But then your water broke, causing Donnie to fly into an almost full blown panic, forgetting everything he had planned. It took a slap from Raph and a few good words from Leo, along with some encouragement from Mikey to get him back on track.

And back on track Donnie got. He guided you through, almost with more ease than he had with his brothers’ partners. For a moment he just switched off all emotions and focused on the task before him.

But as soon as your son was born, and was laying safely in your arms, Donnie broke under all of his suppressed emotions, letting out a few happy sobs as the two of you watched the little guy before you.

Michelangelo:

If there was one that wanted children, it was Mikey. He had been talking about it, long before his oldest brother and spouse figured out it was possible. So can you imagine his excitement, not just for his brother’s good news, but when he realized the two of you could actually make a family together? He was over the moon, talking about having a child as if he was asking if he could get a puppy.

But the world didn’t seem to think too fondly of you and Mikey’s wish to have children too. Days turned into weeks, and nothing happened. Then days turned to months, and you were still not showing any signs, all while Raph’s partner was heavily pregnant with their child. Months suddenly turned into years, and now Donnie was a father as well. Though you both were happy for them all, it was almost disheartening.

For a time you worried it might have been because of you. The fear that you might have been infertile creeping up in your head, until you finally asked Donnie to check you out. You even went to a human doctor to get checked. But both said the same thing - there was nothing wrong with you.

This left you and Mikey with one last option - maybe it was because of him. It had been known that human males were experiencing a lowering of sperm counts, along with a lower quality of said sperm, so who were to say it couldn’t happen for a mutant turtle as well?

And so, Mikey went to work immediately, trying to figure out what he could do. The conclusion from Donnie came much earlier than the two of you had expected, but his results were not surprising - a better diet, more training, no more alcohol on the weekends until you had a baby in you, less stressing video games and more vitamins.

Mikey took it all with no complaints. If he wanted a child he would have to work for it, and so he did. Even if he at times wanted to fall over when he couldn’t eat his favorite foods, play his favorite video games, or just do what he normally did as a creature of habit. But he wanted that child, so he could not just give up like that! No! And so he kept going.

And after a few weeks of non stop trying, you and Mikey finally saw the fruit of his labor, when your daily morning test out in the bathroom finally showed positive, altering the rest of the lair with your high pitch scream as you ran to Mikey, happy tears in your eyes as you showed him what the two of you had been waiting for, for so long.

Mikey was overjoyed, screaming louder than any of his brothers had done. Finally! After so long, he was finally going to become a father. He had worked so hard, but never once did he or you give up. And therefore, Mikey rightfully decided to celebrate the good news, with the first junk food he had gotten in a long while.

From that night, all up until you gave birth, Mikey slept, hugging your stomach, happy that it was finally happening for the two of you.

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (1) II a.russo x reader

series playlist

this is part one to a lil multi part fic i've been working on, sequels and prequels to come

childhood sweethearts II a.russo x reader

"and you promise you'll not burn yourself out again right darling?" you sighed at the obvious concern present in your mums voice on the other end of the phone line. "yes mother i've learnt and i've grown and i'm doing all the self care things!" you cheered sarcastically, switching to hands free as you moved to stir your dinner.

"ha ha ha. i think you forget that i still know where you live and i have no issues just popping in every now and then to check on-" the older woman began to threaten as your eyes widenened.

"okay okay there's no need for that mum! i'm doing well, i promise." you responded a lot more sincerely as the woman on the other end simply hummed. "this school and my workload is a lot less intense, really! my colleagues are very friendly, my boss is approachable and i love my class. better?" you sighed as you switched off your stove and began to dish yourself up a bowl.

"and it's brought you back closer to home, my favourite part!" your mum cheered as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"yes it has however i maintain that i have boundaries mum. you, lily and harry are only welcome to visit with an invitation." you warned, half serious and half joking as you grabbed your phone and moved to the living room, sinking down into the sofa.

"yes you made that very clear, feeling very loved darling." "you know i love you ever so dearly mum but i also love my own space."

"oh god i almost forgot. you'll never guess who i ran into the other day!" your mum suddenly gasped making you chuckle, if you'd even tried guessing you could have been stuck on the phone with her for hours, your mothers social circle seemingly never ending.

it used to be a point of contention for you in your youth, hating the way you were seemingly forever pulled away to dinners or parties or barbeques, having to beg your parents to leave once it grew late in the night and your social battery had long hit its max.

as your siblings grew older they were always excused from going to these elaborate social events and you'd beg to be given that same privilege but as the youngest that was one thing you coudn't talk your way out of.

though once your dad passed you watched that break her down to nothing, seemingly just a shell of the woman she once was when he was alive and all was well.

but with time you grew to watch your mother pick herself back up slowly and start to rebuild her own support net. recconecting with her inner circle after isolating herself from the outside world for so long, it warmed your heart and was something you would forever encourage for her.

knowing that the older woman would always thrive and be at her best as a social butterfly and the hostess with the mostess, it had helped her to heal.

"if i guessed we could be here for hours and i have an island full of gorgeous single airheads and a bowl of pasta calling my name, so who did you run into?" you chuckled, shoveling in a mouthful of food as you awaited her answer.

"carol russo!" you choked at her words, spitting out the pasta you'd half chewed and breaking out into a coughing fit, scrambling for the glass of water on the coffee table.

"oh honestly i wish you'd learn to chew before you swallow, the food isn't going to disappear!" your mum scolded you as you finally caught your breath again.

"oh i'm grand mum, thank you for your concern!"

"anyway. well i've not seen her for years as you'd know and then there i was just browsing the strawberries, i needed some for a new crumble recipe i'm trying, and there she was, just grabbing a bunch of carrots!" you had to withhhold the urge to laugh at the way your mother told stories and just how animated she'd become, so fixated on the small details as she basically told you their entire conversation and coincidentally revealed her entire shopping list as she went.

"so we're all going out for a meal on thursday to catch up properly." you hummed, only half listening at this point. "that sounds nice." you mumbled, flicking through the tv.

"so you'll be there then? i said half past six since i know you're normally home from work around five." now that had you tuning back in. "wait, you what?" you directed your full attention back to the conversation.

"dinner with the russo's. half past six at paradiso, your brother and sister already said yes." your mum repeated as your stomach dropped and you fell silent. "darling did you hear me?"

"yeah i did. but look mum i have lesson planning to do and that's a school night and-" "oh y/n please! carol made such a point to ask how you've been and how much she'd love to see you. i know you and lessi drifted apart but you're both adults now darling i'm sure you can find some common ground, and the two of you used to be inseparable."

and there it was.

you could have just maybe deluded yourself into thinking that there was a slight chance the youngest russo wouldn't be present, perhaps you'd get lucky and she would be too busy off being a european football superstar.

but now you knew she'd be there the pit of worry and dread forming in your stomach only widened, quickly going from a small hole to a gaping chasm as the nerves already settled in at the thought of speaking with her after so many years apart.

"actually no you know what darling i don't care if you're an adult now, you're going. no arguments!" your mum decided, hastily excusing herself and stating she couldn't wait to see you, ending the call before you could utter another word.

~

"oh god, get it together! they're just regular people and its just one dinner." you mumbled to yourself with a shake of your head as you fixed your hair in your rear view mirror for the fifth time, sinking into your seat with a long exhale.

you jumped and let out a yell of shock as someones knuckles rapped against your window, an all too familiar toothy grin shining down at you as you grabbed your bag and popped open your door.

"shortstack!" giorgio cheered, surprising you as he scooped you up into a bearhug. "well, maybe not so much anymore." he placed you back down as he looked you up and down with a beaming smile.

"hi gio." you laughed fondly, hugging him again as he squeezed you, having been just like another brother to you as you'd grown up, it seemed he hadn't changed a bit.

"still shorter than me though, and definitely shorter than lessi." the boy teased as you felt a wave of nausea wash over you as the realization once again sank in you'd be seeing her again after all these years.

"so its been years, how have you been?" the italian laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you briefly caught him up on what you were doing now as he did the same, the two of you wandering into the familiar restaurant.

"hasn't changed eh?" he chuckled as the both of you looked around, fondly recalling memories of all the dinners your combined families would have here throughout your childhood, the same owners still preserving its legacy and charm years and years later.

"hey, i was really sorry to learn about your dad. he was a good man, one of the best." the boy gently grabbed your arm and tugged you to the side a little, genuine sorrow in his eyes at the words as your lips pressed together and you nodded.

pity, you hated pity.

"thanks gio." you squeezed his shoulder with a small smile as the two of you resumed your chatter and you spotted the rest of your families already gathered together at a large table up the back, the same table you'd always sat at.

it seemed the two of you were the last to arrive as cheers erupted and you both made your rounds saying hello, without even needing to look to your right you could feel a certain blondes eyes burning holes in the side of your head, but you weren't quite ready to accept that just yet.

"sweetheart look at you! absolutely beautiful." carol beamed, pulling you into a very tight hug after you'd finished once again being lifted into the air both by mario and luca, seemingly an italian tradition as thats how it had always been for you with the men of the russo household.

"its so lovely to see you again carol, mum was delighted to have bumped into you, i know she's missed you since it all happened." you admitted softly, the older woman nodding in understanding and rubbing your back comfortingly.

though the gesture was not anything new it did send your heart racing, as you knew another russo who was fond of that exact same thing and at the seemingly simply action a million memories came crashing down onto you and your knees buckled slightly.

doing your best to shake them off you greeted your own siblings and mum, and then without anyone else to use as a buffer you found yourself having to take a seat, and of course the only seat free would be next to her.

your stomach dropped as finally you had no choice but to look at her, the girl thankfully caught up in conversation with your sister sitting across from her you found her eyes no longer gazed back at you.

it presented you with a small fleeting moment to actually take her in.

long gone was the grubby ten year old brunette who would tackle you to the ground and sit on you to paint your face with mud after she'd spent the afternoon kicking footballs at your head, now sat before you was a woman.

you knew she'd forgone her natural hair colour for the bottle blonde, in fact you'd been the very first person she told the moment she even started to consider it. you'd gone with her to the salon for her appointment, showering her with praise at her new cut and colour which she'd clearly stuck with over the years.

gone was the baby fat which once rounded out her face, her features though still soft had become more defined over time, and you couldn't help but allow your eyes the luxury of roaming her incredibly toned arms which sat on full display, likely attributed to the hours she dedicated to training every day.

she had always been strong physically, easily able to overpower you during countless wrestling matches in your early youth, or pinning you down on her bed to steal the breath from your very lungs with a searing kiss in your teenage years, forever teasing you to no end at all the ways she bettered you in strength.

sat with one leg crossed over the other you marvelled at the tight fitting dress which adorned the curvature of her body, another thing that grubby ten year old alessia would have scoffed at, forever foregoing fancy dress ups and heels for football boots and a tattered hand me down manchester united jersey.

of course over the years you'd grown up together there was changes within you both, the biggest of everything being the fact you realized you loved one another in a way best friends shouldn't, thinking about one another the way the rest of your friends spoke about liking boys.

it was how the two of you had wound up being one anothers first everything, though that was a secret reserved only for the two of you to share, and one that would take much more time than a quick dinner for you to really unpack.

so swallowing down the hard lump in your throat at the cascading emotions washing over you, you screamed at your legs to move and cleared the distance between you and her, your sisters eyes flickering toward you alerting alessia the chair beside her would no longer be vacant.

sneaking a glance up toward you she had to stop herself from gasping. much like your own observations, to alessia gone was the shy smiley ten year old she'd chased around her backyard every afternoon and sat giggling for hours with tucked away in pillow forts on rainy days, replaced instead with a well spoken and quite frankly drop dead gorgeous woman looking to her expectantly.

alessia quickly stood to her feet, wincing at the obnoxious scrape of her chair against the hard wood floor, the two of you sizing one another up clearly unsure how to proceed.

"hi." you started softly, alessia swooning at the dimples which hadn't left you over the years, your nose still scrunching slightly as it always had when you smiled.

"hey." the striker managed to force out with her own nervous smile, the two of you hesitating for a moment, clearly both ticking over if a hug was the next most appropriate step.

though right as alessia began to move closer, arms ready to envelop your shorter form, it seemed the decision had been made for both of you as servers arrived.

handing out menus and starting to take drink orders meant the two of you dropped down into your seats, refusing to look one another in the eye as you spoke to everyone and anyone but each other.

alessia ordering a glass of white wine with a grateful smile her ears perked up and a slight frown appeared on her face as you murmured to the man you were content to stick with water.

"let me guess, no drinking on a school night?" your older sister lily had mocked with a teasing grin as you rolled your eyes at her over the lip of your glass.

"oh yes your mum was telling me you're teaching now! and you've just gotten back from working abroad?" carol tuned in at that point, seated beside your sister as you nodded.

"yeah i was in australia for two years teaching, i actually only got back a few weeks ago and started a position here in a local school." you confirmed with a smile, alessia glancing toward you with a look of surprise at the new information.

“oh that’s just wonderful, I can see you’d be the most amazing teacher. what age?” carol complimented sincerely as you sent her a grateful smile, you’d definitely found the right work for you and you adored your job so you always appreciated when it was picked up on by others.

“I was teaching grade five in australia but my class here now are only second years which is a bit of a change.” you answered with a chuckle, it had definitely been an adjustment but you honestly preferred it to how things had been overseas.

"got over your fear of planes then if you made it in one piece to australia?" luca chimed in with a wink as you waved him off, having always had a paraylsing fear of aircraft it had taken a lot for you to board that final plane away from everything you knew.

but with a new adventure awaiting and having done about as much preparation as one girl could do, once you were in the air it relieved you to know it actually wasn't all that bad.

"lessi just got back from australia, well we all did actually what a place it is. and what a shame we didn't know you were living there at the time!" mario added with a regretful smile before returning to his conversation with your brother.

"yes i was sorry to see how that ended for you lessi, you played brilliantly though! lil and i watched most of the games, footy for breakfast." your mum beamed, alessia unable to not share a grin with the woman, her happiness always having been infectious just as yours was, it wasn't hard to see where you got it from.

"y/n was at the semi finals too, in person." your brother harry chimed in as your face paled, having hoped this wouldn't come up as you felt ocean blue eyes pierce into the side of your head. "you were?" alessia's voice was soft and laced with surprise, and you were sure you were the only one who had heard her as you nodded.

"our school was given a handful of tickets by one of the parents who sits on the FA board, so i went with a few other teachers. the only english woman among a huddle of australians i wasn't the most popular on the train ride home or at work that next day!" you joked, cheeks flushed slightly red at all the eyes on you, grateful once the conversation seemed to shift to another topic.

but alessia wasn't quite finished with it yet.

"i wish i'd known you were there." the blonde admitted quietly, sparing a glance toward you as you stiffened. "you scored the winner, i didn't miss that." you replied softly, messing about with your fingers and staring down at the table as alessia's wine arrived.

she downed it in one go, tapping the server and murmuring for another as he nodded and took her glass away, the blondes head buzzing with the much needed liquid confidence.

"did your friends need to explain the rules to you?" alessia smiled, her tone now much lighter as you shared a look, own lips curling upwards at what she was insinuating.

"mostly just how offside works and what the hell VAR was." you joked, seemingly relaxing a little more in your chair as alessia did the same. "i see your ever growing passion for football hasn't changed then." the older girl teased sarcastically, ring clad fingers drumming against the table.

despite it being her one true love you couldn't have cared less about the sport, the only reason you feigned any interest was not to upset her or have her feel unsupported, and so you allowed her to teach you the rules of the sport so you would appreciate every game you sat at to watch her play, and you hardly ever missed a single one.

though that also never ever stopped her from forcing you to stand between the posts as she and her brothers fired shot after shot at you.

you’d often run off after a few minutes of being hammered and your best friend would chase you down, dragging you back to the goal and demanding you try to stop at least one of her shots and she would switch with you and let you kick at her instead.

it was safe to say you never did manage to get a turn at playing striker.

"could say the same for you, champion of europe now isn't it? bit of a step up from winner of the backyard round robins one on one with your brothers." your shoulder nudged into hers slightly, setting alessias entire body on fire just from the marginal contact, something she'd not felt in years.

"seems we have a lot to catch up on then." alessia smiled, your stomach erupting into butterflies at the slight rasp of her voice, scolding yourself for such feelings as you settled again.

"well six years is quite a long time."

~

though alessia was hyper aware of all of the physical changes within you, it warmed her to see there were still some things which stuck around all the same over the time you'd spent apart.

"some things don't change do they." the blonde murmured with an amused smile seeing you pick out every single tomato from your side salad, subtly moving them to an awaiting napkin as you blushed having been caught out.

growing up you’d always do the same, normally not much of a picky eater but what you didn’t like you didn’t like. thankfully for you though the blonde beside you ate like a hoover growing up with how much physical energy she exerted daily, especially in her early teen years. and would always take whatever you didn’t want, making sure her mum never noticed as you were determined not to have her think you didn’t like anything she prepared for you.

"here." alessia chuckled, reaching out to grab the small handful of tomato’s you'd collected and depositing them on her own plate, in turn dropping a few of her roast potatos onto your own in a silent exchange, shutting down your protests with a firm look.

"thanks." you smiled gratefully, conversation turning toward alessia now as everyone picked at their food. "so arsenal then less? big shift from you as a die hard united fan." your brother joked though knowing the girl as you did you didn't miss the way a small frown of discomfort flickered across her face.

but as soon as it was there it had disappeared again and she was chattering away about how happy she was with her new club, and admittedly you tuned out a little bit as your mind wandered to your lesson planning for tomorrow.

"hm?" you hummed as you heard your name, shooting back down to earth and rejoining the conversation. "head in the clouds still sweetheart!" carol teased as you laughed nervously, apologizing for your lack of focus and asking your mum to repeat herself.

"we were just saying that lessi's new place is quite close to yours." the older woman smiled with a look in her eye you didn’t like, sipping at her wine as you forced a smile. "oh is it? thats nice." you nodded, looking anywhere than at alessia who you knew was waiting for you to say something more.

though when you didn't the conversation turned once again and you exhaled slightly, however of course the conversation had shifted to what you and alessia were like as children, your mums swapping story after story which frankly sent your head into a spin.

you abruptly stood, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom as you started to feel a little overwhelmed, alessia's eyes following yours with a concerned frown. "go make sure she's okay lessi." her mum ordered, shooting down her protests with a stern look and shooing her away as the blonde sighed and got to her feet, following after you.

she hesitated on the handle for the bathroom, she was almost certain she'd had a hand in why you left the table in the first place so would her coming to check in on you even really help anything?

she mulled it over for a moment, hand still on the handle before she shook her head, deciding against it and taking a step away. though no sooner had she made up her mind was it changed for her as the door opened and you'd come striding out, smacking into the blonde whose hands grabbed at you.

though with her notoriously clumsy nature she found her footing slipped and she was sent tumbling to the floor, accidentally taking you down with her as your bum smacked against the concrete with a wince.

"fuck, i'm so sorry." alessia blurted out as her face burnt red in embarrassment, hurrying to her feet and offering you a hand up. "it's fine." you smiled politely, the blonde frowning at just how quickly you dropped her hand once you were back on your feet, attempting to step around her to return to the table.

"wait." her strong hands landed on your hips, spinning you around as your eyes widened and alessia realized her mistake, hastily snatching away her hands and stepping back, mumbling an apology.

"you said to wait?" you reminded, eyebrow raised clearly giving her the opportunity to say whatever she had intended. "oh. can we get a coffee sometime? to catch up." alessia forced out, grateful for the few glasses of wine in her system that allowed her to swallow the nerves which threatened to drown her.

"alessia-" you started and the striker could tell right away from your tone and furrowed eyebrows that you were angling for a no. she had to swallow her wounded pride at the realisation you were also the only one at the entire table who'd not called her a single nickname all night, and if she was honest you were really the only one who she wanted to.

"please." the blonde almost begged, her hand reaching out for yours again but pausing midway as you ever so slightly retreated, fingers falling dejectedly back to her side as you sighed.

"alessia i really don't know if-"

"we were best friends for a lot longer than anything else went on. i want to hear about what you've been up to, properly. not just a few awkward sentences at a dinner you clearly don't even want to be at."

you hated her for how well she knew you and could clearly still read you like a book, despite the length of time it had been since she'd even seen picked up and glanced at the cover.

"i've missed you."

and there it was, the three word confession seemingly innocent however it was enough to drive a metal spike right through your insides, and had you wishing you could curl into a ball and be swallowed up by the floor right about now.

"please? it would just be two old friends getting a coffee, catching each other up about the last six years of their lives. completely normal!" alessia tried again this time with a joking smile, desperately trying to ease the fast mounting tension arising between the two of you.

you had to respect her efforts, the taller girl rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet nervously, hands rubbing at the material of her dress desperate to try and wipe them dry, her skin soft and clammy at the sight of you in front of her again after so long.

"okay."

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

part two

[twig-tea]

Spoiler-free Pitch for Oppan (Ossan no pantsu ga nandatte ii janai ka)

Thanks to @isaksbestpillow generously creating subtitles for this show we have access to arguably the best family drama of the year, and what has become one of my favourite series of all time.

The premise is essentially: Makoto, a 'traditional' family man in his 50s who feels alienated from his wife and two kids, decides to learn to 'update' his beliefs with the help of a young gay man who befriends him.

There are so many pitfalls and ways this premise could go wrong, and the show falls into none of them. Daichi, the gay character that befriends Makoto, has a boyfriend, and they both have their own arcs. The friendship is two-way, and they both benefit from the relationship. Makoto's wife, son, and daughter all also have arcs, and we get to understand and love all of these characters. Nobody is in this show exclusively as a foil for Makoto; everyone gets to be their own person. The show is careful to not only show multiple experiences of gay characters, but also to chastise people in the show for making assumptions, as those can be hurtful, even when well-intentioned. And yes, while it isn't the focus of the show, we do get to see some of Daichi and Madoka's romance.

This show is so well-written, each episode is satisfying and builds on the previous one. The journey to improvement is not a straight line but a spiral, and Oppan depicts that so well. The mistakes Makoto makes are believable and realistic. And the way Makoto's relationships improve in every aspect of his life as he works on himself is gradual, realistically depicted, and so, so satisfying to watch. Trust is earned, and we see him slowly earn trust over time as he changes his behaviour. We also see the damage his past behaviour has wrought, and see him reconcile himself to that.

One of the best things this show does is viscerally illustrate how harmful upholding societal stigma and judgment is to those you love, and to yourself. Makoto's toxic masculinity, homophobia, amatonormativity, and judgment of anything he deems as "silly" or "abmnormal" hold his family back from connecting with him, and hold himself back from experiencing joy. Themes include (but are not limited to) sexuality, gender presentation, idol fandom, BL fandom, makeup, fashion, and workplace culture. And it isn't just familial relationships this show cares about; it touches on friendships, romantic, sibling, parental, and coworker relationships.

The lesson at the core of Makoto's journey is that genuine connection with others is how we heal and find joy, and that we can only have that genuine connection if we're able to make space for others to be themselves in our presence through kindness. And it's that core that makes this show so powerful, and made me cry (with happiness, catharsis, and relief) so many times. I genuinely feel like it healed something in me to watch this show.

Even putting all of that aside, this show is funny, and genuinely satisfying as a story arc. There's Carlos, the family dog who always seems to know what's going on and nudges Makoto when he needs it. Makoto's actor, Harada Taizo, makes some incredible faces. There are hilarious cut-aways mid-scene, usually when someone is getting too intense with their fansquee. The family dynamic, especially the sibling behaviour between Moe and Kakeru, is so hilariously familiar. It's not a chore to watch this show; it manages to be kind and healing and also fun.

Anyway. If that's not enough of a pitch for you, I've written about all of the 11 episodes individually, including outlining where and how each made me cry: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 . And I'm not the only one; if you want more company while watching, @bengiyo, @lurkingshan @mikuni14 and @mynamisnotthepoint wrote a bunch about this show too mostly broken out by episode.

And to relive the magic, @avorbl, @theside-b and @my-rose-tinted-glasses created some gorgeous gifs!

Siiri has instructions on her blog, but if you need help watching this show, feel free to DM me or send an ask.

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (II)

Chapter 2 : ‘Through me the way to the City of Woe’

Hi, everyone!!! Here we go for a second chapter! Drama is upon us, the plot is plotting! Let me also introduce you to Samantha, Andrew’s partner… I’m sure you’re going to love her a lot…

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 4510

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Through me the way to the City of Woe, Through me the way to everlasting pain, Through me the way among the lost. Justice moved my maker on high. Divine power made me, Wisdom supreme, and primal love. Before me nothing but things eternal, And eternal I endure. Abandon all hope, you who enter here.

Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy : Inferno, Canto III, 1321

Andrew was tired, but then he was tired all the time.

As he prepared himself a strong coffee that morning, Sam was busy on her phone, probably going through her social media or reading the news. It didn’t really bother him, he was quiet in the morning anyway, liked to start slowly, to emerge into the world in a silent and gentle way. He was naturally a night owl, it was a struggle every morning to get out of bed early. At least, before the new year of classes started, he could go to work later, no classes schedule early these days.

Elwood was sleeping again. After an early walk around the neighbourhood, the dog was back on his comfortable bed, curled in a black and white ball, softly snoring. Andrew looked at his dog with love, refraining from petting his head, choosing to let him rest instead. He was a good boy, he deserved all the sleep he wanted.

He thought of you as he poured some coffee in his favourite mug. The meeting to distribute classes for the upcoming year was today. Of course, there had been one already before summer, so lecturers could begin preparing their classes if they needed. But some new arrivals would change a few things, some negotiations between lecturers too. Andrew himself was going to switch a class with Colm, another professor from the English department, inheriting a class about Yeats’s poetry instead of biblical studies. If he wasn’t against some religious metaphors – and given the weight of religion in Ireland, Andrew reckoned that he could never escape from it anyway – he was happy to avoid teaching about it.

But you were new at Trinity, and he wanted you to enjoy yourself during your first year. Upon his arrival, Andrew had lacked a guide, someone who would explain to him how things worked, especially the more selfish and ruthless side of the institution. If Trinity was wrapped in traditions, it was also filled with professors who cared little about their colleagues thriving in their academic pursuits, especially if that meant compromising with their own wants. Some professors were kinder than others, more willing to compromise. He’d help you navigate through the meetings, and hoped you could get to choose your classes too…

“My mother wants to invite us on Sunday,” Sam broke the silence that covered Andrew’s kitchen. A blank silent, an emotionless one; neither uncomfortable of comfortable, one that was there to settle on the furniture and in the corners of the room and simply lay there, undisturbed.

“I can’t on Sunday, I’m helping Jon with his film project, and then I’ll have lunch at my parents’. You were supposed to come to lunch with me.”

Andrew turned to Samantha then, sipping on his coffee and grabbing an apple as a breakfast. She said nothing, but her frown spoke volume. She was annoyed, maybe even angry.

“It was planned, baby. I’m sorry, we can go next week.”

“I think I’ll go see my parents anyway,” she said, her tone cold and firm, the one Andrew knew meant that he had no chance of changing her mind. He heaved a sigh, rubbed at his tired eyes with the back of his hand.

“As you wish, I’ll warm my mom.”

“You’re really not coming with me?” she asked, and her eyes were throwing daggers at him.

Andrew bit on the inside of his cheek, his stare growing sterner as well.

“I had planned to spend time with my family, and my brother needs my help. I’ll come with you another time.”

We had planned to spend time with my family… but he didn’t say that out loud, unwilling to start an argument.

She mumbled something under her breath, turning to her phone again; something about ‘a useless film’, and Andrew didn’t want to hear her comment, he knew he wouldn’t like it.

“Won’t you be late for work?” she asked, her voice calmer again, but the remark annoyed Andrew anyway.

“I don’t have classes, and the meeting is at 1pm, I can take my time.”

She could have added a comment on his time blindness, but she didn’t, and he was grateful for it. He relaxed a bit thanks to that.

“Busy day for you today?” he asked, and she heaved a sigh in response.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll come over tonight. Besides, we might go for drinks with the guys from the tech company we’re working with at the moment. Do you remember? I told you about them.”

“Of course, I remember, honey,” he answered with a soft, tender voice.

“I still haven’t finished that bloody logo for them…”

Andrew was brought back to their university days then, when she studied art and he studied literature. When she longed to paint all day long and he fumbled through notebooks and broken guitar strings. When they both had dreams that were too big for them. They had made a choice, had decided to finish their degrees, and not to make the hardest of the sacrifices that would have opened the gates to a life filled with art. Andrew had changed major from music to English during his first year, had passed his exams instead of spending his time in a studio. Samantha had specialized in design and publicity, and had given up her brushes that painted the coasts of Ireland in favour of simpler shapes created on a screen. Andrew couldn’t say that he had regrets about it. He liked his life like this, on the outskirts of Dublin, sharing his love for poetry, writing his own poems, waking up most days by Samantha’s side, even if after all these years she still didn’t want them to move in together, and he couldn’t fathom why. He loved his job beyond measure, always finding a fascinating detail to study, something new to read that would shake his world. He still sang with friends when he felt like it, sometimes wrote music to fit his poetry. He had a full life, a happy one, he couldn’t complain, really.

He thought about the engagement ring he had bought once, when she wasn’t ready to get married. She had said no, it had broken something inside of him. But he loved her, he would be patient, he could wait, and anyway, that was years ago…

“You’ll do an amazing job, you always do,” he encouraged her, but she rolled her eyes.

“You’re too sweet sometimes,” her words were spoken as criticism, not as a compliment. He clenched his jaw.

“Anyway, I’ll be pretty busy too, today,” he said, even though she hadn’t asked about his plans for the day, but then she hardly ever asked. She listened when he spoke about it though, and that ought to be enough. “We have our final meeting to select the classes we’re going to teach. I’m a little worried for Y/N, though.”

“Why? I’m sure she can take care of herself.”

Sam’s tone was a little dry still, he wasn’t sure if she were jealous or simply still annoyed.

“Trinity isn’t always filled with the nicest people. A lot of academics are quite selfish sometimes. I want her to have a nice time teaching. She seems very nice. And I arrived only last year, I know how stressful this situation can be.”

Sam nodded, but didn’t seem convinced.

Andrew threw the core of the fruit in the bin, finished his coffee, washed his mug. He didn’t want to argue, didn’t want to fight. Still, for some reason, he really wanted to talk about you. He had been worried upon learning that someone would share his office now, and he was relieved to find that you were kind, smart, and everything but annoying. He hoped the two of you could become friends.

“Y/N said that she found a poster for the office too! Can’t wait to see what she’s chosen.”

“Nice,” Sam nodded, and Andrew knew she wasn’t paying attention anymore.

He let out a long exhale through his nose, and she didn’t notice. He grabbed his water bottle, crossed the room, stopped to drop a peck on her head as he walked by her.

“Have a nice day, babe. I love you.”

“You too. Love you.”

She didn’t look up from her phone, and it sounded automatic, the way she answered. Andrew remembered when they started dating, about seven years ago. Both in their early twenties, young and naïve and heads full of dreams. She used to stare at him for hours, she used to look him in the eyes every time she said she loved him, to make sure he knew she meant it. He wasn’t so sure she meant it every time she said it anymore…

He pushed the thoughts away; he reckoned that this was his busy, anxious brain talking. Instead, he put on his shoes and his denim jacket, grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He stopped thinking about Sam, and thought about you and the poster you had promised you would bring today, and he walked out of his flat.

The meeting was over, and you seemed happy. Actually, you seemed ecstatic. And it made Andrew happy as well.

He had managed to get the class about Yeats, as planned. He had helped you through the meeting, discreetly, in whispers, but it was enough for you to secure classes you were interested in teaching. This year, you would teach three classes bound directly to your research, a general introduction to 19th century English literature, another about revolutionary writings in which you planned on including a fair share of pamphlets about women’s rights, and another about 19th century novels. You were buzzing with excitement as you walked back to your office, chatting with Andrew and his good friend Colm.

“I have so many things to prepare, but also… I feel very confident in these subjects,” you grinned at the two men.

“You can’t be happier than Andy finally teaching only classes he wanted,” Colm laughed, bright and loud, throwing his head back like a child despite the fact that he was middle-aged man.

Andrew nodded, heaving a relieved sigh.

“I thought Lydia was about to make a scandal…”

“She didn’t want you to leave one of the difficult classes. You’re too popular a teacher for that.”

Andrew rolled his eyes.

“I definitely am not.”

“You are too! Students love him,” Colm added, turning towards you. “And I will easily admit he’s a good professor, great at explaining things, and always very calm. But let’s be honest, the fact that most of our students are attracted to him helps a lot.”

Andrew looked away, trying to hide that he was blushing, but you laughed anyway.

“Such a pretty mug!” Colm teased, trying to grab Andrew’s chin, but he merely pushed his friend away, laughing.

“Quit your nonsense, would you?” Andrew laughed. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. He loves talking shite about others.”

“That is not true! Y/N! Please, with your feminine point of view… tell him I’m right.”

You chuckled, shied away, but answered anyway.

“Oh, I’m sure Andrew must be popular, yes. I would have definitely preferred staring at his face when I was a student, compared to the old dinosaurs I had to put up with.”

Andrew was blushing so hard, even his ears were turning a bright shade of red, but he couldn’t refrain his grin nonetheless.

“Please, tell me I don’t fall in that category!” Colm protested, making you laugh.

“No… not quite yet. You still have a couple of years ahead of you,” you joked, and Andrew burst into laughter, while Colm mumbled something under his breath, rolling his eyes.

“Well, children, this is my stop, have a good day,” he mumbled, entering his office while Andrew and you continued a bit further.

“I’m glad you’ll give classes you’re interested in,” Andrew said, giving you a warm smile.

“Thank you so much for helping me throughout the meeting. It was… a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, some people here are proper gobshites.”

You laughed at that, entering your shared office.

“Hmm… I have noticed, yes. You seem particularly fond of Ian,” you chuckled, and Andrew rolled his eyes.

“I’m a very peaceful kind of lad, but that arsehole deserves to get some sense being punched into him.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow at that. If you had been teasing, the fact that Andrew had turned more serious as he answered made you intrigued now, rather than playful.

“Really? What did he do?”

Andrew stared at you for a few seconds, wetting his lips before he would answer.

“Nothing illegal, don’t worry. But he’s an arsehole. He will destroy your career and reputation if it serves his interests. Especially if you’re a woman.”

He saw you clenching your jaw at that last remark, and he heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head, and he hoped you could see that he meant it.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not you who is at fault. Anyone else I should be cautious about?”

“Mahon, O’Reilly, Evans, Hillstone and Patterson.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You’ve got a whole list ready,” you pointed out.

“I’ve been here for a year. Fool me once, shame on you…”

You slowly nodded, Andrew sighed again.

“Don’t worry, the rest of the bunch are nice though. Most of them are nice.”

“I’m used to it.”

You shook yourself out of the conversation, a smile growing on your features.

“I have something to show you!”

Andrew frowned a little at that, bending to avoid the lamp hanging from the ceiling as he walked over to your desk. He had grabbed his thermos filled with his favourite brand of tea.

“Really?”

You pulled out a rolled poster, and he laughed.

“Oh! So you did settle on some decoration!” he pointed out, while he opened the buttons of his grey tweed waistcoat. He buried his hand in the pocket of his tweed pants while you fumbled with the empty frame.

He put down his thermos on the edge of your desk, then pushed back a strand of hair that was falling across his eyes, readjusted his glasses upon his nose. You were quick to place the poster in the frame, and you grinned up at him once you were done, right before turning the frame around to show him the poster.

“I love this illustration. I had it hanging in my dorm when I was a student, and then in my first apartment. But my fiancé finds it a little… dark. And he’s not particularly interested in literature so… he doesn’t really get it. Anyway!”

You stopped your little rambling, grabbed the frame, and showed it to him.

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, immediately recognising Gustave Doré’s illustration of Dante’s Inferno.

The black and white print showed Virgil and Dante standing on the edge of a precipice, staring at a hurricane carrying the souls of sinners, talking to a couple crying in their everlasting punishment. Andrew had not read the book since his own college days, but he remembered that this was the punishment for those guilty of lust.

“Do you like it? Can I hang it?” you asked, an excited smile he found adorable on your lips. “I thought the black and white would fit your poster quite well.”

“Sure, go ahead. Need help?”

But you were already placing the frame against the wall.

“I have to admit, I’m quite surprised by your choice,” Andrew inspected the print, leaning against your desk, his hands still in his pockets. “I didn’t picture you as a fan of Dante… especially given his… conservative thoughts.”

“I love Inferno. I’m not going to pretend that I love the entirety of the Divine Comedy, but I love Dante’s image of hell. The haunting part of it. The way it is structured. Of course, it’s medieval thinking about issues that have radically changed now, but… It was a long time ago. If I don’t appreciate all of his thoughts, I do admire his imagination. Besides, it was a heavily political book. I’m surprised you don’t give him more credit for that.”

He answered your teasing smile with a genuine one.

“I do remember a little bit of that. Last time I read it, though… I was a student and hadn’t chosen to suffer through it. Besides… I think I was a little too young to understand it fully.”

You nodded.

“I’ve read it many times. I don’t know, there’s something… something about it that draws me in. Not the Christian moral lessons, of course. But just… I don’t know… there’s something fascinating about it. And I often wonder what our version of hell would be today. If we kept the structure, if we kept the place Dante created… how would we view those who are imprisoned there? Would we find their pain justified? Would we find it unfair to punish them like this? And who would we place in there? If we replaced the references to people Dante knew by people from our world, who would be stuck in Hell?”

Andrew pondered on these questions while he kept on listening to you. He had a few names in mind, for sure. He smiled at the thought, didn’t interrupt you while you babbled away about the book, about the things you loved and disliked about it.

“And I love Doré’s illustrations so much! They’re haunting, just like the book. And this one in particular, with Francesca and Paolo… like… their story is so sad, but even Dante was touched by them. Even if the moral in his book is outdated now, goes against what I believe… I’d like to think that we’d turn their story around today, that we wouldn’t condemn their love or include such a warning towards fiction through them, you know… with the whole reference to Arthurian myths and everything… don’t know if you remember that… but anyway… what would we think of them today? I’d like to believe we would find their punishment in hell unfair.”

You trailed off after that. You were nervous when you looked at him, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“Sorry for the ramble,” you apologised, but Andrew frowned in response.

“No need to apologise. Why would you?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. Your thoughts are very interesting.”

You blinked at him, as if surprised. You gave him a bright smile, growing a little shy.

“Right, thanks. But we should get back to work.”

Andrew nodded, moved away from your desk and bent again to avoid the lamp hanging from the ceiling.

He looked at you as you stared at the poster for a moment. He was happy you were the one sharing his office, you were getting along well, you were so nice, you were so smart and always seemed to have something interesting to say. He just wanted to talk to you more about this book you loved, but you were right, you both had a lot of work to do. He should focus on this article he was reading before the meeting. Instead, he looked at you for a moment longer. And before his brain pushed the thought away, before Samantha was on his mind again, he didn’t fail to notice how beautiful you were.

He looked for his thermos across his desk, furrowing his brow when he didn’t find it there. He rolled his eyes, annoyed at himself when he remembered where it was.

He walked over to your desk again, reached for it while you were still focused on the poster. But his fingers got clumsy as he threw you a glance, and it fell across your desk. Some of the warm beverage was spilled on the wooden surface.

“Shite! God!”

You turned around at the sound, but Andrew didn’t see your eyes growing slightly round. Instead, as a reflex, he had grabbed your phone and papers to secure them, was already looking for some tissues to clean the mess he had made. You reached for some Kleenex tugged inside your backpack.

“Christ, I’m so sorry,” Andrew profusely apologised, hurrying to clean your desk too. “Sorry, I’m so… long, clumsy limbs… I’m so sorry…”

He cursed at himself under his breath, didn’t look at you, fiercely blushed. Always count on him to ridicule himself…

“That’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you reassured him, and when Andrew looked up again, you had an earnest smile on your lips. “It was just an accident, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry…”

Andrew was so flustered, so embarrassed… He finished cleaning, handed you back your things without making eye-contact, rubbed at his collarbone through his shirt as soon as his hands were empty again.

When he finally looked up once more, you were still smiling.

“It’s nothing, Andrew. It’s merely a little bit of tea. Besides, you’ve saved the most important items on my desk. Nothing to be so upset about.”

The anxious side of him had kicked in, he couldn’t help it. He ran his fingers through his hair several times while he forced out a chuckle.

“I know, sorry…”

Andrew walked back to his desk, looked at his computer screen while he heard you chuckling lightly. He saw in the corner of his eyes that you were fondly shaking your head at him.

Why did he have to always make a fool of himself, huh?

All you wanted to do was to rush home to share the good news with Frank.

You had managed to get interesting classes, including some linked to your research… you were so excited to get to work and begin teaching in October.

When you came home, Frank was on his computer, working. He kissed you when you leaned closer, but focused on his screen again, and so you decided to wait for dinner to talk to him about your day.

You took a shower, prepared dinner. Frank was still working, he only stopped when you told him dinner was ready.

“Smells nice,” he said with a smile, squeezing your hand, and you took the gesture for a silent thank you.

“Thanks!”

Frank remained silent as he started to eat, and so you jumped on the opportunity to speak about your day.

“The meeting about classes and lectures was today. And it went so well!” you started babbling away, Frank looking up at you with an emotionless gaze. “I’ve managed to get topics I’m interested in, and I’m going to teach about my research too! I mean… not directly about my research, but problematics bound to it! I’ll have a class about the male gaze and female gaze dynamics, another about feminism and feminist essays…”

“That’s great, babe.”

“Yeah! Andrew helped me navigate through the meeting quite a bit, and he got the classes he wanted too, so…”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah! And…”

“Could you hand me the salt, please?”

“Sure. I’m also gonna work quite a lot on the 19th century, which is great! I like that period, especially for novels. And that means that I can include lots of female writers, like Austen and the Brontë sisters, obviously… but I can also spend some time on feminist movements, cause that’s really an important century for them.”

“Good, good…”

“Yeah, that’s grand, and…”

He heaved a sigh, and you grew quiet.

“You’re alright?” you asked, trying not to show your disappointment.

You knew that this question meant that the conversation would focus on him for a while, and you might not be able to talk about today again.

“I… Y/N, we need to talk.”

Your heart sank.

That was not the answer you were expecting…

“Talk?”

“About us.”

“What? What do you mean? About the wedding, you mean?”

“No, I…”

He hesitated, looked at you for a moment, before putting his fork down.

“I think we should break up.”

And that was it. Words that were shattering your world spoken like they were easy to let out, like they didn’t mean the earthquake they produced. You merely stared for a moment, waiting for Frank to tell you that he was joking, to take his words back. But he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he went on. “But I think we should go our separate ways.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? We’re engaged! We’re going to get married!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N… I know it’s pretty sudden…”

“PRETTY SUDDEN! WE’RE ENGAGED! YOU’RE EATING MY FUCKING FOOD!”

“There’s no need to shout…”

“NO NEED TO SHOUT! OF COURSE, THERE IS A NEED TO SHOUT! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”

“I’m sorry… but it’s best if we don’t stay together.”

“Why? What happened? You… We’re supposed to get married…”

“I’ve met someone else, Y/N.”

Your eyes grew round, and suddenly all air had left your lungs.

“You… you’re cheating on me?!” you asked, your voice lowering again, your emotions bubbling too much, tears rising to your eyes.

“No! No! No!” Frank defended himself, shaking his head vehemently. “Nothing happened. I swear, nothing happened… but… Y/N, if I am able to feel this way for another woman, then we shouldn’t get married.”

“For how long have you known her? Who is it?”

“You don’t know her. We’ve met through work.”

“How long?”

“Not long… a few weeks.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, crossing your arms before your chest.

“A few weeks? You’re trying to make me believe that you want to leave me for a woman you’ve met weeks ago?!”

“You don’t understand, we’re in love…”

You felt your head starting to spin, you had buried it in your hands.

This was a nightmare, just a bad dream, you would wake up and everything would get back to normal, you would tick all the right boxes again…

“What do you mean in love?”

“I love her. I know that it sounds… mental, but I do. And if I can fall in love with someone else like this… then you and I shouldn’t get married. It means that I… that I don’t love you enough to marry you.”

“You’ve got to be joking…”

“I’m not. I’m sorry, but I’m serious.”

“What’s her name?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, no… Do you want to be with her?”

“Yes. But I don’t know if she’ll want to be with me.”

“Really?”

“She’s not single either.”

You laughed then, tears streaming down your face too, unable to cope with the tidal wave of emotions that was drowning you.

Denial, pain, betrayal, anger, sadness…

“I’ll gather my things,” he said, standing up while you started shaking on your chair, struggling to breathe.

You didn’t even notice that he was moving away, that he was packing… you remained frozen on your seat, sobbing, while Frank was gathering fragments of your lives and tearing them away from your space.

He only reappeared about an hour later in the kitchen, the rest of your meal was cold. You hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

And then he was gone.

[anjee0]

My brother's best friend

Chapter 1 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

B Rabbit x Female!reader. (Feel free to put an oc insert if you wish as well)

Description - In which Y/n starts to become friends and possibly more with her brother's best friend, BRabbit.

Warnings - Throughout the series there will be: Mild swearing, Smut, Mentions of drugs and alcohol. (More warning to come throughout the series)

Y/n laid on her bed, flipping through her vogue magazine. She admired the beauty of models, hoping that maybe one day she could be displayed in it too. It was her dream for as long as she could remember. Everyday, when she was younger, she'd sit in front of her TV, watching models on the runway as her mum braided her hair. She missed her mum, the way she was so sweet and loving with her and her brother, the way she was supportive of her daughter's dream. Y/n missed every part of her. Her dad left when she was only two, so she never knew him well.

Suddenly, the telephone down the hall started ringing. She knew her brother Jordan wouldn't pick it up. He was downstairs drinking and smoking weed with his friends. It made Y/n irritated, she was the one who had to clean up after their mess. Whenever she asked Jordan to change the hangout place, he simply refused saying that their house was the resigned hangout place.

Y/n picked up the phone and put it to her ear. 

“Hello, Y/n speaking.”

“Hey girl!” A cheery feminine voice called through the phone. It was Carly, Y/n's best friend since middle school.

“Hey Carly, you okay babe?”

“Girl, get ready, we're going out!”

“Now, where?”

“Chin Tiki, I know you're stuck at home with your brother and his dumb friends.”

“Yeah, I am, the house stinks of weed.”

“Well hurry up and meet me at Chin Tiki before your brother makes you clean the house again.”

“Okay, okay, I'll see you. Bye.”

Y/n hung up the phone and ran to her room to get ready quickly. She decided to wear a mid thigh dark blue denim skirt with a simple top. She did her hair and makeup and threw on her favourite heels.

She went downstairs, walking past her brothers and his friends.

“Hey, where are you going?” Jordan asked.

“Out.” Y/n responded, eager to leave the house.

“I can see that, where are you going?”

“Chin Tiki. With Carly. I'll be back soon.”

“Well, we're about to leave for Chin Tiki too. Can you clean the living room?”

“No, you and your friends can clean. It's your mess, not mine.”

“Damn Jordan, your sister's finally started to talk back.” Future said.

The guys all laughed at Future's remark. She glared at him. She was never really fond of Future, or any of her brother's friends to be exact.

“I don't care Jordan, I'm not cleaning.”

Jordan slowly started getting out his seat and heading towards the front door. “Too bad, because we're already leaving.”

His friends followed him out the door quickly, also eager to get out. Y/n groaned, muttering something under her breath as she picked up the empty beer cans.

“Hey do you need any help?” A voice asked.

Y/n looked up and saw one of Jordan's friends, standing by the door awkwardly. He was wearing a dark blue beanie and dark baggy clothes.

“Oh, it's fine. Don't worry. You can get going.”

“Nah, it's fine. I'll help.”

He started picking up the empty cans on the floor and throwing them into the bin.

“Uh, Jimmy, right?” Y/n asked.

“That's me, but people call me Rabbit. You're Y/n, right?”

She nodded. “Thanks again… you didn't need to help.”

“It's fine. Like you said, it's our mess. Not yours.”

“Thank you.”

They finished cleaning up and left the house. 

“Do you need a ride? We're getting in Future's car, we can budge up for you.” Rabbit asked.

“I'll be fine. I've walked to the bar by myself at night many times and made it in one piece.” She smiled.

He chuckled. “Alright then.”

Y/n eventually made it to Chin Tiki, where she saw Carly. Radiant and beautiful as always. She hugged her tightly before they ordered a few drinks and took their seats.

“Hey isn't that Jordan and his friends?” Carly asked. She nodded over to the table where Jordan and his friends were sitting with a few girls.

Y/n turned to look, herself. “Oh yeah.” She saw Rabbit sitting at the table looking unfazed as he sipped his water.

“Who caught your eye?” Carly asked.

“Hm?” Y/n asked.

“You were staring at one of your brother's friends. Who?”

“No one.”

Carly nudged her friend’s arm. “Stop lying.”

“I'm not lying!” Y/n chuckled.

“You're doing that thing with your eyebrows when you lie. Tell me the truth.”

“Okay, there's this one guy-”

“I knew it!”

“I don't like him like that. He just helped me clean the living room instead of letting me suffer in silence.”

“Well that's sweet of him. And what am I talking about, you don't need to focus on guys right now. You've got a modelling career lined up for you.”

Y/n chuckled. “Thanks girl. Should we head out after a few minutes?”

“Sounds good to me.” 

Around 30 minutes later, the girls both left the bar and went outside through the back where the car park was. Whilst walking, they both spotted Rabbit sitting on the hood of the car listening to music on his headphones.

“I know you don't like him like that, but just go to him. What's the harm?” Carly said.

“Okay. I'll just say hi and come back.” Y/n replied.

She approached Rabbit and sat next to him on the hood. He took off his headphones and smiled at her softly.

“What brings you here?” He asked.

“Just wanted to say hi.” She replied. “What are you listening to?”

“Oh, uh. Just some rap.”

“Cool. Do you also wanna be a rapper like everyone else here?”

“Yeah, matter of fact, I do. You?”

“I wanna be a model.”

“Yeah? That's cool I guess.”

“Mhm. I haven't been able to find many places for me to apply yet. So I'm just stuck working at some small diner.”

“I've got a demo with my guy Wink lined up. He's gonna help me. I rap at the shelter too, but last night didn't go too well though. I uh-”

“I know. My brother told me. Which is surprising, he never tells me anything.”

“Why's that?”

“Well-”

“What are you two up to?” A voice interrupted.

Y/n looked up and saw Jordan with his friends, also accompanied by another guy who she recognised as Wink. 

She quickly got off the hood of the car as her brother and his friends approached closer.

“What are you doing?” Jordan asked.

“Just talking to him.” Y/n replied.

“Hey Rabbit, we're all going over to my house right now.” Wink said.

“What about your mum? Is she not home?” Rabbit asked.

“Nah. She's working nights now.” Wink smiled at me. “You can come too if you want.”

“Absolutely not.” Jordan butted in. “She's got work tomorrow.”

“Man, we all got work tomorrow, just let her have it.” Wink replied.

“Fine.”

“Can Carly come too?” Y/n asked.

“The more the merrier.” Wink replied.

Y/n thanked him before going to get Carly. She was quick to say yes, she was always up to go anywhere as long as her friend was always with her. 

“Is it okay if you guys can give us a ride?” Y/n asked the guys.

They were bunched up in the car like sardines in a can. They were all laughing together about whatnot and having a blast.

“So why do they call you Rabbit?” Y/n asked.

“Cause he's fast and likes to fuck a lot.” Future laughed.

Everyone laughed at Future's response. 

“All jokes aside, he's super talented. He's rapping next week at the shelter on Friday if you wanna see him ladies.” Future said.

“Maybe I'll come watch if I have time.” Y/n responded.

They eventually reached Wink's house and got out of the car quickly, feeling a quick relief of air after being crowded in the car.

Y/n and Carly walked with Wink as he led them to his house, the boys were trailing behind.

“Man, I can't rap next week. I have work.” Rabbit told Future.

“You'll go if she's there.” Future responded hinting to Y/n. He made sure he was quiet so Jordan couldn't hear.

“She's cute, but I don't like her like that. I don't think she's interested in me either. Plus, I think I wanna have a break from dating after Janeane.”

“Alright, fair enough. But try coming next week, okay? Forget last night. You're gonna do great.”

Everyone was having a good time at Wink's place. Y/n and Carly danced together and laughed with each other, it felt good for her to feel free for a while and not feel this immense weight on her shoulders.

Meanwhile Rabbit, Jordan and Future were lounging on the couch, taking a rest.

“Fucking Wink, man.” Future replied. “I hate him. Tryna act like the big guy around here.”

“Me too. Are you sure about this free demo thing with Wink, Rabbit?” Jordan asked.

“Yeah. He's gonna help me out, guys. What's the big deal?”

“Free comes with dick up your ass.”

Meanwhile, Iz started complaining about something to Cheddar and a few girls. 

“Another example of people's needs being denied by the city. I don't understand why the media's not all over it. Matter of time before it all happens again and the city won't care.” Iz complained.

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Rabbit asked.

Cheddar turned to face Rabbit. “That abandoned house where that little girl got raped.”

“It's what you call an “Attractive Nuisance.” Iz said. “If that house was on the other side of 8 mile, it wouldn't still be standing.”

“It could've been Lily, Rabbit.” Cheddar said.

Rabbit glanced over at Future and Jordan. Then at Sol who was across the room. They all gave each other a knowing smirk.

“Burn this shit to the ground!” Future whooped as he poured gasoline over the abandoned house.

Y/n and Carly were outside by the car, talking to Jordan.

“Can we come too?” Y/n asked.

“Hell no! It is too dangerous for you and Carly. You two can stay out here.”

“We're not babies Jordan.”

“Be grateful I even let you be here. Otherwise, I would've sent you home.”

 “And aren't you going?” Y/n retaliated.

“Yeah but it's fine for me.” Jordan replied before grabbing a can of gasoline and making his way to the house.

“He's so annoying.” Y/n said.

“He's just trying to protect you.” Carly said. “It's cute.”

Y/n gave Carly a look. “You gonna go after my brother now?”

“No, I was just saying it's sweet of him. Plus, I think Wink's pretty cute. He was looking at me earlier.”

“Well then go shoot your shot. Look, he's just standing there. Go!” Y/n nudged Carly forward.

“Okay, I'm going!” Carly chuckled as she went over to Wink and started making a conversation with him.

A minute or two passed when all of a sudden, the house erupted into flames. It was a blazing firestorm, brightening the dark night sky.

Rabbit appeared from the back and saw Y/n leaning against the car as she admired the burning house. He approached her with a soft smile.

“It's almost beautiful, isn't it?” Y/n asked.

“Yeah. Piece of shit should burn to the ground.” Rabbit replied.

Y/n chuckled. “I wanted to go in. My stupid brother wouldn't let me.”

“He's just trying to make sure you're safe.”

“Yeah, but sometimes it's annoying. He has to make sure he knows what I'm doing all the time. You know how earlier at Chin Tiki I said that he never tells me anything anymore? Well ever since mum died, he's just been so different. He's so secretive and moody but he can't let me be secretive.”

“I get that it can be annoying but, he's doing it because he doesn't wanna lose you too.”

“How do you know that?”

“He told me.”

“He did?”

“He said to me one night when we went out that he wanted to make sure you lived a good life. He said he knew he was being strict but he told me did it because he didn't want to lose you. You guys only have each other.”

“I guess…”

“And sometimes Future says something about you. Like he'll say you're hot and that he wants you and then Jordan gets absolutely pissed. If we weren't there to hold him back, Future would've been a dead man.”

Y/n chuckled. “That sounds like him. You got any siblings?”

“I've got a little sister at home. Lily. She's 7. I'd do anything for her. I love her so much.”

Y/n smiled at Rabbit's caring demeanour for his sister. She noticed how his voice softened when he talked about her, it made her feel content herself.

Sooner or later, everybody got home, managing to escape from the cops just in time.

Y/n and Jordan got home and immediately got hit with the stench of the weed that still lingered in the house.

“Did you not use Air freshener?” Jordan asked.

“I did. Didn't have much time.” Y/n responded.

“Right…” Jordan replied.

“Look, if you don't want the house to be messy and smell then just change the hangout place!” 

“You know what? Fine. I'll ask. Only because you weren't so annoying today.

Y/n scoffed as retreated to her room and got changed out of her clothes. She was starting to consider that what Rabbit said about Jordan might've been a lie just to make her feel better.

[theseventhdimension]

i’ve been binge reading all ur fics and they’re all SO good omfg

i wanted to request a spencer and male reader fic where they say ily for the first time, i thought that’d be adorable (not nsfw 🙏)

tysm ur so talented!!

Here, My Dear, in this Moment.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gn! Reader (I think so, I haven't gone through and checked it, please correct me if gendered pronouns are used)

Word count: 1.6k+

DNI: All are welcome!

Author's note: Me on my way to dish out 2 fics per day then dip for 3 months :p

Loved this request though, couldn't resist. Sorry for everyone else who submitted one which i didn't respond to!! I've been very busy with wedding preparation :((

Hope you enjoy this! You didn't add what season you wanted so, as always, I went with my personal favourite, Glasses/Season 2 Reid <3

Slow.

That is how you wanted to take your relationship with Spencer, considering both of your occupations and, well, his history with lovers. You didn’t want to rush things, not with him. He deserved patience, the kind that allowed him to feel safe enough to open up on his own terms. And he was worth every minute.

Still, your heart ached for him. Spencer was cautious, reserved even, but beneath that exterior was a man who loved deeply, even if he hadn’t quite said it yet.

Tonight, though, something in the air felt different. The two of you had spent the evening in your apartment, curled up on the couch, watching Star Trek, one of his favorite series. He had insisted on it, of course, giving you his usual enthusiastic reasoning as he adjusted his glasses with that familiar excitement in his eyes. "There aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering how long ago it was made. There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors."

You didn’t mind. Watching him light up while talking about something he was so passionate about was more than enough for you, and besides, there was something comforting about the old sci-fi series. His hand had found yours halfway through, his thumb tracing small, soft circles against your skin.

It was intimate, but in that quiet, gentle way that was so uniquely Spencer.

The cushion beneath either of you was slowly becoming displaced. Your bodies descending into the cavernous no man’s land that is the crevice of your couch as you both stare straight ahead, well, he was, you were looking at him. The TV screen went dark moments ago. The blackness following the Are you still there? screen of your show.

As the credits rolled, you took another glance at him, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the TV. He looked deep in thought, his brow furrowed slightly like he was working up the courage to say something important. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Spence?” you asked softly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He blinked, then turned to face you, looking like he was about to say something but hesitating. His eyes darted to the side, then back at you, clearly nervous. You smiled at him, hoping to ease whatever tension he was feeling.

“I—” Spencer started, but stopped himself, glancing down again as if the words were stuck somewhere between his heart and his throat. His hands fidgeted slightly, betraying the anxious energy he was trying to contain.

You could tell this was a big deal for him. But before you could say anything, Spencer finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was what you had been hoping for, but seeing him so vulnerable, so unsure, tugged at something deep inside you. Before he could say more, Spencer’s face flushed with embarrassment, and he immediately averted his gaze, his fingers twitching nervously as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

You wish you could get up, open the curtains and let rays of light stream into your apartment in hopes of getting a better look at his face, but you can't, losing daylight as each second of screen time adds up. Though, you do notice the slight twitch of his nose, like a rabbit, you think.

He didn’t look back at you, as if retreating into himself, trying to hide the fragile truth he had just shared. You watched as his cheeks grew redder, his head tilting down in an effort to avoid your eyes entirely.

Without a word, you reached over, gently placing two fingers under his chin. Slowly, you tilted his head back up, forcing him to meet your gaze again. His wide, hazel eyes were filled with uncertainty, and you couldn’t help but smile at how endearing he looked.

You leaned in slightly, pushing his glasses back up his nose with a soft, affectionate touch. “Now, there’s my pretty boy,” you whispered, your voice tender. “No use in trying to hide if I’m just going to keep searching for you.”

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, and a shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His cheeks were still flushed, but there was a softness in his eyes now, a hint of relief, like a weight had been lifted from his chest.

“I mean it,” you continued, your fingers brushing along his jawline. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for a while now.”

Spencer’s eyes flickered with something like disbelief, his lips parting as if to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he leaned into your touch, his shoulders finally relaxing.

“I love you too, Spence,” you said softly, watching as his expression shifted from nervousness to quiet happiness.

Spencer's eyes widen, your words hitting him like a warm, unexpected wave. Heissmile softens, and he blinks a few times, trying to brush off the tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “You ..really mean it?” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with vulnerability.

"Of course." You whisper back, just as quiet as him.

The tension between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by a warmth that filled the room. Spencer, still blushing but no longer hiding, wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

Spencer pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with a nervous, unspoken need that made your heart race. His hands moved up to cradle your face, thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks. His voice came out soft and breathy, barely a whisper. “Can.. can I kiss you?” His eyes searched yours, filled with both hesitation and desire, the question hanging in the air like it held the weight of everything you had both been building toward, everything he was afraid of losing.

You let out a quiet laugh, your chest warming at how gentle, how vulnerable he was, even now. “I think I'd be offended if you didn’t,” you teased, leaning into his touch, a playful smile spreading across your lips as you nodded.

His lips curved into a small, relieved smile, and for a moment, you saw that spark return to his eyes — the same look he always gave you before teasing you about some obscure fact or before pressing his lips to yours in the softest, most tender way. And then, finally, Spencer was kissing you. It was soft at first, cautious, as if he was trying to find his rhythm, testing the waters. But once his lips met yours, the hesitation melted away. He kissed you deeper, his lips moving against yours like he was pouring every ounce of emotion into it — all the things he hadn’t said yet, all the things he was afraid to say out loud.

The world seemed to slip away around you, fading into the background as you sank into him, your hands tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer. His kiss was gentle but insistent, filled with the quiet intensity that only Spencer could have — a mix of tenderness and passion that sent warmth flooding through you. His lips were soft against yours, but the depth of the kiss made your heart race. You could feel how much he had been holding back, how much he had wanted this, wanted you.

You could taste the faint hint of coffee on his lips, mingling with something else that was uniquely him, and it made your chest tighten in the best possible way. As he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, you responded by sliding your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, not wanting to lose even an inch of the connection. The kiss was everything — not too fast, not too slow, but lingering, tender, filled with the kind of warmth that seeped into your bones. It was like a promise, one you hadn’t even realized you needed until now.

Spencer’s hands stayed steady on your back, his fingers tracing slow, small circles, his touch light but enough to make your skin tingle with warmth. His touches were hesitant, as if he didn’t want to rush, but he also didn’t want to let you go. It was careful, yet filled with an urgency that made you shiver. You gripped his shirt tighter, your fingers curling into the fabric so hard your knuckles turned white. You couldn’t let go. You didn’t want to lose him, not after everything. Not after this.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to press his forehead against yours, both of you were breathing heavily. His breath was warm and shaky, mixing with yours in the small space between you. “You.. God I love you…” Spencer’s voice cracked softly, filled with all the unspoken emotions you could feel in his touch.

But before you could respond, his lips found yours again. This time, there was more confidence in the way he kissed you, as though he couldn’t bear to be apart for even a second longer. You could feel the way his hands trembled slightly against your skin, the intensity of everything between you in that moment. His kiss was everything you had been waiting for, every unspoken word and every hidden feeling poured into this one, long, breathless moment.

And in that kiss, the world began to right itself again. You could feel the cracks in your heart, in his, beginning to mend, slowly but surely, with every tender touch of his lips against yours. You didn’t know what would come next, what tomorrow would bring, but for now, this was enough. For now, being with him, here in this moment, was everything. And that was all you needed.