#love my drumming lessons pair

[demusewriter]

I Loved You Too Early

Summary: You've been admiring the captain of the prominent football team in your school, whom you secretly admiring from afar. You thought he was out of your reach until you saw him studying in your brother's room. Genre: brother's best friend, slow-burn Pairing: Non-idol! Jungwon x Fem! Reader Word count: Part I: 11,432k; Part II: 14,297k (Overall: 26,179k) Chapters: 10 (Completed) (divided in two parts) Warnings: This is heavily inspired by the Chinese drama 'Hidden Love' so there's a big resemblance, age gap (5 years difference), unrequited love, a little bit of sprinkle of angst, fluff, time skip, just a teeny-weeny bit of fist fighting (but not too much!), and not solid proof-read because its too long (╥﹏╥). Author's Note: I apologize for being gone for a year (⭑•�� 𓎟 •͈ ). While working on this, I suddenly became so busy with college that I decided to put it on hold. Now that I've graduated and started working in corporate, my responsibilities have doubled or even tripled, and I completely forgot to continue this. (◞‸ ◟) However, in the past few days, I've been motivated to finally finish it. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- This was supposed to be in a longer format, but I decided to divide it into two parts so you can take breaks without missing where you left off. Thank you all for patiently waiting! I hope you'll enjoy this one as well. Enjoy!

PART I PART II

Chapter One

You don't know exactly when your dull world was invaded by an unexpected rhythm that made your whole world sway in unending swirling motions.

When did your pulse start to waltz to the beat of an unknown tune, or when did your heart seem to pound louder than before, like a drum heralding the arrival of a marching band.

At first, these sensations frighten you, as you thought you were experiencing early symptoms of heart disease since your heart was not beating normally.

But this unfamiliar heartbeat, the strong and powerful thump of your heart, doesn't hurt; instead, it is sweet, pleasant, and almost comforting.

Then it hit you like an epiphany.

The erratic rhythm of your heart wasn't a medical heart disease at all, but an emotional one.

The strange heartbeat wasn't a signal of a heart condition—it was the throbbing pulse of attraction, of affection, of something you had never felt before:

Love.

A feeling that is often described as an intense, affectionate concern for another individual or object. It is one of humanity's most profound emotions, embedded in both our psyche and our essence.

They said that love's profound complexity underscores its paradoxical nature; you have to—

'pay attention'

—pay attention to recognize it as an emotion that deserves—

'Y/N'

—respect, care and openne—

"Nishimura Y/N!"

Your eyes immediately snapped open when you heard the scream of your name, making you bolt upright from your productive daydreaming.

You quickly blink your eyes to adjust your vision from the blurriness brought on by your deep slumber.

As you tried to shake off the sleepiness, your eyes settled on the person standing in front of the blackboard, brows furrowed, glaring at you with irritation.

You immediately stood up like a soldier from your chair, making a loud screeching noise from the abrupt motion.

"You're not paying attention in my class, Ms. Y/N." Your math teacher pointed out the obvious when she got you caught slacking off in her subject.

Your face burned hotter than a thousand suns, and your ears tingled with embarrassment. The usual supportive wall of the classroom felt like it bows inward, ready to collapse on you.

"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. K-kim" You bowed as you stammered an apology, voice barely audible.

You kept your head down, feeling the sudden shame creep in your body when you saw everyone in the class watching you.

Their interest was now directed from the perplexing equations on the board to the scene unfolding at the back.

"I expect all of you to respect the time I put into preparing lessons and the class itself. If you have issues staying awake in my class, especially you, Ms. Nishimura," you flinched at the mention of your family name.

"I suggest you try to figure out the equation for resolving that issue before you start learning about algebra," she continued, her gaze firmly locked with yours while her face was void of any emotion.

The snickers from your classmates were almost as unbearable as the chasing glare from Mrs. Kim. She let out a disappointed sigh before deciding to continue the discussion.

You slowly sat back on your chair, still red with embarrassment, knowing that this unforgettable scene would become classroom lore, a tale that would inevitably follow you through the rest of your middle school year.

"Someone stayed up all night reading manga again." Chunso, one of your bestfriend, teases you after the math class ends.

"Is it my fault that her voice sounds like a lullaby?" You pouted while putting all your things in your bag.

Well, it's true.

Mrs. Kim, who had been teaching for thirty good years, had a voice with a subdued resonance, softer than silk yet harder than rock.

It was a perfect lullaby for you when the math equations emerged with her voice, creating a hypnotic sonata of numbers.

"Really?" He deadpanned. "You're going to blame her voice when your thick eyebags already speak for you that you haven't had enough sleep?" he playfully flicked your forehead, making you whine. "You're lucky she didn't put you in detention."

You continued to pursed your lips and decided not to comment on anything since it was really your fault for spending the rest of your night reading Shounen manga until dawn, leaving you only 4 hours of sleep.

And so you thought of sneakily using the time in math class to take a short nap, but that short snooze took you to dreamland, completely sweeping you off from reality.

Then you get caught.

If only the first letter in Chunso's last name is closer to yours, then there's a big chance he'll be your seatmate, which will help you prevent getting caught.

But you were so unlucky, as he was in the front row while you were in the last.

"Oh, what happened to her?" your other bestfriend, Eunhee, asked when she saw you sulking while clinging to Chunso's arm.

Unfortunately, she's not in the same class as you and Chunso, so you all just meet in the hallway every lunch break.

"Got caught sleeping." You hide your face behind Chunso's arm when you feel another wave of embarrassment hit you. You also expected a row of teasing words from her, but instead, you were embraced by a warm arm around your shoulder with a gentle rub on your arm.

"Did you get detention?" You looked up to her and shook your head in response.

"Then there's nothing to be worried about," she consoled, offering you a comforting smile that wipes your shame away.

You let go of Chunso's arm and cling your arms around her.

You wanted the rest of your high school journey to be quiet and unnoticed, your presence a mere ripple in the grand ocean of faces. But, as luck would have it, today you were scolded in front of 35 students.

"Aigoo, my little sister had a rough day." She coos while patting your head gently. Even though she was only four months older than you, she always considered you her younger sibling, as she never had one.

"Yah! Did you tease her about it?" Eunhee's soft voice was quickly replaced with a loud, arrogant one when her attention went back to Chunso.

"I didn't!" Chunso defended, his eyes suddenly finding the floor interesting as he tried to avoid the scrutinizing eyes of his friend.

You felt Eunhee's hand stop patting your head when she sensed that he was lying. Suddenly, Chunso yelped in pain. You looked up and saw her pulling the boy's poor hair.

You let out a giggle at your two friends acting like they were going to make each other bald by snatching each other's hair.

You take hold of their arms and gently remove their holds on both of their hair.

"It's okay, I'm good now," you assured them while softly fixing their messy hair. You might get teased about what happened earlier, but at least it leaves you with a lesson to learn to balance your time to avoid getting sleepy in class.

Your genuine smile partnered with the softness in your eyes removes their worries.

Ever since your friendship bloomed after you helped the two treat their wounds after the incident in your PE class in 4th grade, they have always stuck with you and considered you their precious little sister that they needed to protect.

So, the thought that you might get teased about the humiliating situation concerns them.

"Let's have lunch!" You excitedly exclaim and drag them with you as you cling to their arms.

Chunso and Eunhee shared a look while they let you yank them to the cafeteria, a silent agreement that your lunch is on them to brighten the rest of your day.

After the delightful lunch break that you have with your friends, which they surprise you with a once-a-month sale of bacon croque monsieur in the cafeteria along with a legendary chocolate mousse that makes you jump from happiness, you shortly parted ways with them as you are instructed by your teacher to get some books from the library that will be used in your class activity.

As you walk through the empty hallways, with the crisp pages and musty scent of the books accompanying you, something catches your peripheral vision.

Across the dusty path to your next class, you saw a spectacle unfolding on the bustling football field.

Captivated by the sudden burst of energy from the loud cheering, you rubbed your eyes and squinted through your glasses, pausing your hurried steps.

From your point in the hallway, you can see a group of people energetically playing football, and the scene looks like a small showdown.

You were never the biggest football fan, but you could at least appreciate the smooth precision of their passes.

With a further inspection from your spot, you could make out why a handful of spectators and students are basking in the afternoon sun when you see some of the players wearing the most famous navy blue and white striped jersey.

The group that clad themselves in that jersey were not just average students; they were the revered football team of your school.

The Nightball Team.

Ever since the establishment of the Nightball Team, it has consistently reigned supreme, its renown spreading far beyond the city.

The team is born out of a unique blend of teamwork, discipline, ambition, and a fierce drive for continuous development.

Making them act as an emblem representing not just the school but the principles its students stand for.

Every time the name of your school is mentioned, the Nightball Team is always the first thing that comes to everyone's mind.

That's how famous they are.

Amidst the navy blue and white-soaked jerseys, a certain person caught your attention. His physique was chiseled, his movements defying time as he led the team with an innate confidence that was as charming as it was stirring.

His jersey number 04, clung to his athletic body as he ran, skillfully dodging the opponents while carrying the ball that was tucked in his arm. Each tactical maneuver, every calculated move, displayed an enchanting dance of dominance and tenacity.

Then it happened—Nightball Team scored, erupting a loud cheer from the crowd.

As the dust settled around him, he looked up, his face breaking into a humble, triumphant grin that lit up his eyes.

It was as if the Earth rotated a little slower, distorted only by the increased pace of your heart.

Ah, now you remember when did your heart started to act out like a drum roll, jumping to the beat like a fool.

It was when he humbly acknowledged a job well done, his genuine joy for the game, and the soft crinkles around his eyes as he gently smiled while everyone praised him for scoring the goal.

That was the moment when you felt it for the first time—your stomach fluttering like there was a swarm of butterflies lodged in there, and your heart skipped a beat—for the first time, not for the new volume of Shounen Manga

but for someone else.

A peculiar sensation that only happens because of him.

Only because of him.

Chapter Two

As everyone in the class attempts to pay attention, the warm sunlight flowing through the classroom window did little to improve the class' concentration.

The monotone voice of your teacher talking about some dead men who died in a fight hundreds of years ago slowly puts everyone to sleep.

It was another ordinary Wednesday for the rest of the students, but for you, it was unimaginably extraordinary.

Before, there was no particular day that seemed special for you.

It was all just ordinary that you have to get through—well, except for Sunday, since that's the scheduled release for each chapter of the manga you are currently binge-reading.

However, after you learned that every Wednesday was the Nightball Team's practice in the field, it became a day that you always looked forward to.

The day when you can only see him.

It's unexplainable how his humble smile, which makes his dimples dig deeper into his natural rosy cheeks while his eyes form a crescent moon, can catch not only your attention but also your very young heart.

Maybe you were simply mesmerized by a man who wore the number 04 jersey, even though you didn't know his name.

You tried everything you could to know his name; you tried to dig through the old school newspapers that you sometimes kept to solve the sudoku part and re-read the sports section in the hope his name would be mentioned.

You also tried to go to your school's website, searching for him by using the Nightball Team's name in the search engine, which is always a hot topic on the website, but surprisingly, you were still left wondering what his name was.

The two options that you chose to know who is the mysterious jersey number 04 are the best choices that you could have since that's all you can do.

However, you still have one good option left.

The best option that will surely secure the chance of knowing his name.

But no matter how great this option was, you would rather get embarrassed again in the class than choosing it.

Asking your brother.

Your brother, Ni-ki Nishimura, who is part of the baseball team, is the best option to ask anything about sports, as he has been athletic and very knowledgeable in that area ever since you were both children.

He is a born sports prodigy.

Besides being part of the sports club at your school, he also has a huge number of friends, not only on his team but especially on the football team.

You don't know why, because the last time you checked, baseball and football are different sports, but your brother appears to be much closer to the members of the Nightball Team than his.

He really is the best choice to finally name the one you are admiring if he is not only a pain in the ass.

Despite your family's crowning him a prodigy and naturally talented, he is always the annoying and bloody irritating brother in your eyes.

He will literally make fun of your desperate mission of knowing the name of a particular person on the football team.

Heck, he might give you the wrong name just for fun.

However, that is not the worst thing that might happen if you ask him something that will give him a hint that you have developed a sudden interest in someone, especially if that someone is the opposite gender from you.

He will explode.

Your brother, who is five years older than you, has the tendency to become very protective when it comes to you.

He might be an obnoxious and nosy brother, but he has a soft spot for you that he cannot admit.

He will do everything to protect you, especially your heart, from men.

Therefore, if he finds out that you are growing admiration for someone, especially in the Nightball Team, he will literally ban you from going to the football field.

You sigh as you scribble his jersey number in your notebook while the boring class continues.

The bell signaling the end of the class of the day rang, making your mood reach the ceiling of happiness. The usual fidgeting in your seat to the rhythm of the clock turned into a wild scramble as you packed up your textbooks and pencil case into your bag.

You rush out of the classroom with thoughts of finally watching a football practice occupying your mind.

But before you could fully get out of the room, you felt a tug on your bag forcefully stop you in your tracks.

"What's with the rush?" Chunso asked still holding your bag.

"I-I'm going to the l-library!" You exclaim as you stumble over your words. Your friend's eyes immediately narrowed into slits when he sense you are making excuses.

"What will you do there?" he interrogates, as it was unusual for you to go to the library after class since you were always eager to go back home to spend the rest of your day reading manga.

"To study, o-of course," you said, forcing a smile in the hopes he would buy your alibi. However, it just proved his suspicion that you are hiding some information that you don't want him to know.

"Hmm." Your smile slowly faded when you realized he didn't believe you. You sigh in defeat.

"I promise that I'm not doing anything bad." You raised your pinky at him as an assurance to ease his worries.

Chunso was still observing you, looking for any hint of lying. He then let out a sigh, seeing the sincere look behind your words.

"You promise to message me and Eunhee when you get home," he said, raising his pinky. A big smile made its way into your face, brightening your mood.

Even though Chunso is not entirely convinced to let you go since you didn't tell him the real reason why you don't want to go home yet, he still trusts you that you're not doing anything behind their back that will make them worried.

You tightly cling your pinky to his, sealing it with both of your thumbs touching.

"I promise!"

After saying goodbye to Chunso, you immediately skip your way to the football field with so much giddiness. Each step you take intensifies your excitement as you are finally able to watch the practice match of the Nightball Team without using the view from the hallway.

You spot an empty seat that is secluded from the rest of the bleachers, although it is far away from the field where the players play, it is still enough for you to cheerfully cheer for your jersey number 04 without being noticed.

The crowd suddenly screamed with excitement when the players of the Nightball team showed up on the field. Your eyes started to scan the players, finding the specific person who always filled your sketchbook and slowly became your favorite muse.

It was as if your world had suddenly slipped into slow motion, and all the noises were muted when you saw him walking with confidence in the field—everything but him and his bright smile faded away.

You held your chest when you felt your heart skip again in a beat that only he could make.

Each time he ran across the field, swinging the ball with finesse, you would do a small victory dance in your heart. You watched every move, every goal, every mistake he made, and still supported him while your hand was busy sketching every movement he made and leaving small comments of amazement beside your sketch.

You would also offer whispers of encouragement, muffled applause, and silent woohoo with your heart thumped in silent cheer.

As the sun went down and the practice match ended, you found a sense of fulfillment you had rarely felt before. You hadn't elbowed your way through the fanatic crowd or screamed your lungs out, but something told you that you cheered the loudest.

It feels like you were bewitched by his enchanting display of professionalism and respect for the game, that you always find yourself in the same seat every week, watching him with full admiration in your eyes.

Your heart fluttered as you headed home while reminiscing the practice match you watched earlier, already dreaming of the next Wednesday when you could watch your jersey number 04 playing on the field again.

"Practice match?" Your mom spoke once you entered the house.

She's the only one who knows that you always watch the football practice, as you can never lie to her. Somehow it makes you guilty because your mom thought you were just growing a fascination with that sport, not knowing you're only there for a certain person.

"Yep!" You sneakily grab a slice of fruit in a bowl that your mom passionately peeled and cut into pieces. "But I went to Eunhee's house to do our assignments."

The football match ended much earlier than usual; sometimes it takes two to three hours, but today they concluded the practice for an hour, giving you time to drop by Eunhee's house when she invited you and Chunso to do your homework there, although you three only ended up watching movies instead of doing it.

You were about to get another slice of fruit when your mother gently slapped your hand, stopping you from getting more.

"You're going to be full before you can get dinner. Go to your room to wash up and call your brother; we will have dinner in a minute." She ushered as you pouted and sulkingly went upstairs, making your mom shake her head at your sillyness.

Then she remembered something.

"Ah, bring down your brother's friend as well!!" she yelled from downstairs, muffling her voice in the process as you entered your room, making you not hear the rest of her words.

"Nii-san, we're going to eat" You called outside your brother's room, clad in your blue Cinnamoroll print pajamas after you wash up. 

"Riki-niisan!" You knock on his door repeatedly when he doesn't respond, making your cheeks puff in annoyance. 

"I'm going to your room if you don't come out," you threatened, knowing your brother doesn't like you setting foot in his room. 

You rolled your eyes and barged into his room, kicking the door open.

"Nii-chan! What's taking you so long!?" You screamed at the top of your lungs with both of your hands resting on your hips.

You expect to see him playing PlayStation while wearing his headphones, the reason he couldn't hear you calling because of the noises in the game, but instead, you are greeted with a familiar pair of Boba eyes staring at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, squinting your eyes in the process to get a better look at the person sitting on the chair, as you forgot to wear your glasses.

He's definitely not your brother, as his eyes were sharper, contrasting to the softer eyes of this person in front of you.

You take a step closer to see his face, which is still blurry in your vision.

On the other hand, the boy suddenly felt amused at how you tried to scrutinize him. He couldn't help but chuckle when you got even closer.

You were taken aback when he suddenly let out a soft laugh. His dimples appeared on his left cheek with his eyes turning to a crescent moon.

Your eyes slowly went wide when you finally got familiar with those traits that make your heart do summersaults.

You suddenly felt frozen in your position when it slowly registered to you, who were occupying the study table of your brother, surrounded by papers and textbooks that were neatly organized on top of the desk.

You stumbled aback.

How on earth did your nameless jersey number 4 end up in your brother's room?!

Chapter Three

When God decided to create you, he probably accidentally poured too much embarrassment into your basin of personality, or when heaven decided to shower humiliation, you caught all of it as it became a frequent situation that always happened to you.

What's worse is that it happens in front of a person for whom you are developing intense admiration!

You dove into your bed, your face buried deep in your pillow. You gave a mighty inhale and unleashed a deafening scream into its soft embrace while your feet kicked with frustration.

You can bear to get embarrassed again in front of your classmates while your raging teacher scolds you, but not in front of your jersey number 4!

Your first encounter with him wasn't imagined this way; in fact, you didn't have a plan to talk to or be involved with him because you only wanted to admire him from afar.

Still! You had expected to meet him more decently, not while scrutinizing him with squinted eyes in your printed pajamas!

God! You can't imagine how unpleasant you look with your eyes squinting to make your vision clearer with your nose crunching in the process!

"Y/n-chan" You suddenly stop your antics when you hear your brother calling you outside your room. You stay buried in your pillow waiting for him to speak again.

"I'm hungry. Let's go downstairs to eat." Normally, you would straight-up come out of your room and sprint down the stairs, racing your brother ahead to prevent him from getting most of the food that your mother had prepared.

But now, you just want to stay in your room and pray for it to disappear.

"I'm not hungry," you said with a tinge of lack of enthusiasm in your voice.

Although your voice is quite muffled by your pillow, your brother on the other side of the door can clearly sense that you're not in your usual mood.

His brows furrowed.

Ni-ki's sure that he heard you earlier screaming his name at the top of your lungs while he was in the shower, certainly ready to annoy him again. But now, you're acting like your energy suddenly got sucked out of your whole body.

"Really? Mom cooked Oyakodon." He made sure that you heard the last part, knowing that it was your favorite and that it would be hard for you to refuse not to eat. "If you don't come down at any moment, I'm going to eat all of it."

Ni-ki expected the door to burst open and you to rush down the stairs to prevent him from hogging all the meals for himself; however, he was greeted by a different response.

"Hmm, okay" Your muffled hum is his cue to storm inside your room.

"Okay, what's going on with you, brat?" he demandingly asked. Ni-ki might sound annoyed at your unusual antics, but in reality, he was worried and now started racking his head if he did something that made you upset.

He snatches the pillow where your head is buried when you don't reply to his question, making you groan and kick your feet in annoyance.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" Ni-ki slightly cringed when his voice suddenly sounded soft, wishing you hadn't heard it.

He proceeded to touch your forehead, checking your temperature to see if you had gotten sick, to which you only whined and smacked his hand away. Your brother sighed.

"If you have no plan to eat, at least tell mom. She even made an effort to make a big serving of your favorite dish just for you."

Your body went still at what your brother softly said.

Since childhood, your parents have always reminded you of the importance of being grateful for all aspects of life, especially the food that graces your table.

Having been born and raised in Japan, you've been instilled with a deep reverence for food to express your appreciation for the hard work of the farmers and the dedication of those who prepare your meals.

Out of guilt, you found yourself sitting at the dining table savoring your favorite Oyakodon while trying to resist stealing glances at the person seated across from you, right beside your brother.

If it were any ordinary day, you'd likely be devouring your meal with gusto, prompting your mother's gentle reminders to slow down.

But today was different.

The presence of the boy who made your heart race like a runaway train transformed your mealtime into a royal feast, leaving your brother to cast perplexed glances your way, baffled by your another uncharacteristic behavior.

"Did you like the food, Y/n-chan?" your father asked when he also noticed that you weren't eating as usual. You wanted to scold your father for mentioning your name, as you felt all the eyes, including the adorable boba eyes, looking at you.

You wanted to say something, but you were afraid that when you spoke, his eyes would linger on you, making you feel another wave of shame. So, you nodded in response without lifting your head and continued looking at your food.

Your parents looked at each other with worry in their eyes, wondering what had happened to their precious, bubbly daughter.

You felt a hand gently rubbing against your back, making you look at your mother, who was beside you.

"Go finish your food so you can have a rest. I'm going to make you green tea later to help you feel better, hmm?" You felt your eyes slightly water as your mom gently cared for you.

Your guilt increased as they thought you were feeling under the weather when, in fact, you were just shy and embarrassed because your jersey no. 4 was on the same table as you.

"How about you, Jungwon? Did you like the food?" Your ears perked up as you looked in his direction when your mother called his name.

His name is Jungwon?

Your heart pounded in your chest, and a mix of excitement and giddiness coursed through your veins. The name resonated with you in a way you couldn't understand.

His name could be translated to "garden," a fitting name that perfectly describes the feeling you experience every time you see him.

Comfort.

"It always tastes good, Mrs. Nishimura. Thank you so much for the wonderful meal." He replied genuinely with a smile.

'Always? This isn't his first time here?' You unconsciously frowned.

Jungwon looked your way, making your eyes widen due to the unexpected eye contact. You quickly looked down at your plate to avoid his gaze, feeling your cheeks burn, with a lasting redness that stayed through the end of dinner.

You weren't sure whether you would be happy to return to your room and continue to privately revel in your embarrassment or disappointed that dinner had passed so quickly.

As you helped your mom with the dishes, you overheard Jungwon expressing his gratitude to your father for inviting him to dinner as they arranged the table.

A sign that he was about to leave.

"Can you send Jungwon to the door, Y/n-chan?" Your mother's request caught you slightly off guard. You had the urge to decline and come up with an excuse, but the guilt of lying to your mother again held you back.

Reluctantly, you found yourself nodding and accepting the request.

A sigh of relief washed over you when your brother also joined you in sending Jungwon off. However, your relief quickly faded when your brother jokingly rushed out the door, leaving Jungwon behind and you alone with him in the genkan as he put on his shoes.

As you stood by the front door, an awkward silence hung between the two of you. You avoided making eye contact, and as Jungwon prepared to leave, you muttered a shy goodbye.

Throughout dinner, Jungwon had been bothered by your quietness and avoidance of eye contact. It led him to believe that he had made you uncomfortable, especially after your encounter with him in Ni-ki's room that made you dash out of your brother's room.

Ni-ki's comment about you acting unusually and not being in the mood for dinner further supported his belief that he had made you uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight," he softly said, his voice tinged with worry, making your brows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm sorry if I laughed earlier; I didn't mean it in a bad way," Jungwon continued as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He thought that his chuckles over your actions were the reason why you got uncomfortable.

Your heart sank when you realized that your actions during dinner had made him think that you were offended by him and that his presence made you uncomfortable.

You quickly shook your head, desperately wanting him to understand the truth. "No, no, there's nothing to apologize for! I assure you, you didn't make me uncomfortable. I'm just naturally shy."

Relief washed over his face as he let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. "Really? I thought I made you upset."

"Not at all. I just felt embarrassed because I didn't know Ni-chan had a guest, and I didn't greet them properly." You couldn't help but puff your cheeks when you felt another wave of shyness as you looked down at your fiddling fingers.

A smile crept onto Jungwon's face, making his eyes soften. "It's okay, I know you were just surprised. No need to get embarrassed."

A surge of warm feelings engulfed your heart when you heard his gentle reassurance. You really wanted to look at him, but you were afraid that he'd see the redness in your cheeks that reflected your true feelings for him.

Your thoughts were cut off when you saw his hand offered towards you. You try to swallow your fears and find a courage to slowly looked up from his hand to his face.

You could almost hear your heart pound with fervor, like a wild drumbeat in harmony with your emotions, when you saw him closely with a soft expression paired with a gentle smile, making his dimple make another appearance.

"Hello, I'm Yang Jungwon, your brother's friend." Your eyes almost welled up when you realized that he was making you forget the embarrassing first encounter by redoing it as if you had just met each other.

You softly smiled and took his hand in a handshake. You felt a sudden spark of electricity shroud your body because of the contact.

"I'm Nishimura Y/n, Riki-nii's sister." Jungwon's eyes formed into crescent moons when you accepted his gesture of starting over. Although he already knew a little about you because of your brother, it was still nice to finally meet his friend's sister whom the latter always talked about adorably.

"Nice meeting you, Y/n." He started shaking both of your hands as if sealing a deal, making you giggle.

"Nice meeting you too, Jungwon nii-san."

Chapter Four

You thought that your feelings for Jungwon wouldn't blossom any further, but you were proven wrong when you found yourself researching nutritious foods appropriate for a football player that can boost his energy during practice games, instead of focusing on your homework.

Never in your life did you imagine that there would be a day when it's your turn to give someone a gift to show your appreciation, just like your schoolmates in 6th grade used to do for their crushes—a gesture you often found cringy before.

Yet now, you're going to do it as well.

Football season is just around the corner, making the Nightball Team busier with their practice. Hence, you see this as an opportunity to support Jungwon by providing snacks and bottles of energy drinks anonymously.

You know how intensely athletes practice during the game season, as you've witnessed it to your brother.

To help their bodies keep up with the rigorous training, nutritious foods are very essential.

As you stroll around the convenience store with a basket in hand already full of nutritious foods and energy drinks, a colorful message cards and envelopes caught your eyes.

The intricate design of each card and envelopes make your eyes twinkle in delight.

You've been also a fan of stationery items, developing a fascination for collecting envelopes and colored papers that pave the way for another passion—creating a journal with these elegant items.

If not for manga, the excess in your allowance is spent on stationery items.

As you eye the items, a sudden thought crosses your mind, making your heart beat to a now familiar tune that you are slowly getting used to.

You nibble the side of your cheek, contemplating whether it would be worth it.

You close your eyes, slowly taking deep breaths and gathering the confidence to do it.

Now full of determination, you took the cards and envelopes and proceeded to the counter to check out the items.

Your entire night was spent carefully preparing small packages, filling them with nutritious snacks and energy drinks. Along these, you include heartfelt and motivational notes crafted on small cards that you've intricately designed.

The following morning, you found yourself navigating the empty hallway in an unusual early hour while clutching the gift in your trembling hands, your heart pounding with each step.

Reaching Jungwon's locker, you hesitated for a moment, your mind replaying scenarios of what could happen next.

Would someone appear out of nowhere? Would Jungwon catch a glimpse of you?

With a last scanned around the hallway to make sure no one is around, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself that the early morning cloak of silence was on your side.

Swiftly, you slipped your gift along with the letter into his locker, your hands moving with a kind of precision that only nervous anticipation could bring.

As you put the gifts gently, you feel a rush of adrenaline, a mixture of satisfaction and nervous energy coursing through your veins.

With the deed done, you retraced your steps, leaving behind the token of your affection. The school began to stir with the arrival of students, and you blended seamlessly into the crowd, keeping your secret hidden behind a casual smile.

You wanted to wait and witness Jungwon's reaction to your gift, but fear taking ahead of you as you pondered the possibility that his response might not align with your expectations.

Ultimately, you chose not to proceed and continued on your way to class.

Later in the afternoon, you found yourself on the same bench you sat, watching the practice game just as you always done. The field was buzzing with energy as the players warmed up, their determination evident in every stride they took.

Amongst them, Jungwon stood out like a star.

As the game began, you found yourself entranced once again by Jungwon's performance. He darted across the field, effortlessly evading opponents with his nimble footwork. His passes were precise and his shots were powerful.

He commanded the field with an air of confidence that made your heart swell with pride.

His performance today was exceptionally good compared to the previous practice games. Not that he wasn't good before—he truly was—but today, it felt like he was in his zone.

Every move he made was so powerful. You couldn't help but wonder if the pressure of the upcoming football season was driving him to new heights.

However, it wasn't just Jungwon's skill that impressed you; it was the pure sheer joy he exude while playing that you always like to see.

His face lit up with a radiant smile every time he made a good play or celebrated a victory. It was clear the football was more than just a game to him; it was a passion that ignited and fueled his determination.

A soft and gentle smile made its way to your face as you held your hands close to your chest, feeling the crazy beat of your heart as you admired Jungwon from afar.

A whistle blew across the field, signaling that the first half of the practice game had just ended, making the players come back to the dugout to take a break. As the players made their way, your eyes only remained and followed Jungwon.

As he talked to one of the players, you saw him reach out for something among the water bottles and energy drinks. He twisted the cup and chugged its contents, making his Adam's apple bob with every gulp. The afternoon sun struck his skin, making it glow like honey and accentuating his chiseled jaw.

You catch your breath in a small gasp, not because of how attractive he looks but because the bottle he is holding is slowly becoming familiar.

It's the energy drink that you brought for him!

You know that it was yours because you made sure that the energy drink that you brought was different from the energy drink that they always drink every day, plus you can see the bright yellow sticker message that contained your motivational pun attached to the bottle!

You suddenly felt like you were not breathing when he noticed the sticker; his furrowed brows made you nervous as he read the message. You almost wanted to leave the field, thinking he didn't like what was written there, when all of a sudden he burst into laughter, making the other players look his way.

His teammates wanted to see what made him laugh, but Jungwon held the bottle close to his chest and refused to let anybody know.

Your cheeks suddenly flamed with redness; you don't know if it was from embarrassment or because of the overwhelming feeling of seeing his positive reaction to your motivational pun.

Jungwon looked at the sticker on the bottle once again and let out a chuckle while shaking his head in amusement. His smile and bright eyes didn't leave until the end of the practice game, making you feel a new sense of fulfillment knowing the small act of affection had reached him.

You guess the "Kick some Asparag-ass

(૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭" somehow made his day.

Seeing Jungwon's positive impact of your secret gesture fueled a newfound motivation deep within your soul.

Especially when you saw his soft smile upon discovering the rest of the gift you had left in his locker, a moment for which you had finally summoned the courage to witness his reaction.

Due to this, you can't help but ponder what else you could do—or another motivational pun to put— to bring him happiness and encouragement without revealing your true identity.

With each passing day, you continued to surprise Jungwon with small anonymous gifts, each carefully selected to brighten his practice session and show your support.

Noticing Jungwon excelled in his games and his skills shone even brighter with added encouragement, made your heart swell with pride each time you witnessed his growth, even though he remained unaware of your involvement.

You planned to spend your whole day today coming up with different ideas to keep Jungwon motivated, but since it was Sunday—meaning today was the scheduled release of a new chapter of the manga you were reading—you got distracted and ended up lying down lazily on the couch in the leaving room with an iPad hovering over your face.

You giggled when the supporting character thought that the protagonist was a love child of a known superhero in the story.

As you continued scrolling the pages, you heard the front door open.

Since the iPad completely covered your vision of the door, you didn't see who entered the house; you didn't mind and didn't bother to look who it was and continued reading, thinking it was only your brother since your dog, Bisco, immediately ran to the door with enthusiasm.

"Hey, make me some snacks." The voice of your irritating brother demanded—you guessed it right—it was your brother, which made your eyes immediately roll.

"Make your own," you grumbled, your eyes remaining on the screen.

"I'm going to study," he retorted, earning a scoff from you. 'Study my ass'

You remained unmoved, pretending not to hear him. However, your brother was relentless about getting you to make him snacks, resorting to tickling your foot.

You squirmed and kicked his hands away, still avoiding eye contact, thinking that ignoring him would make him leave you alone.

But the more you resisted, the more persistent your brother became.

Ni-ki decided to take it a step further and removed the socks you were wearing, continuing to tickle your bare foot.

You dramatically squirm around as if you were being possessed, earning a hearty laugh from your brother.

You got up and lodged a smack on your brother's arm when you had enough of his annoyance.

The sound of it resonated through the living room, proving how strong it was. You were ready to give him another one when you noticed another presence in the room.

Your fist hung mid-air, and your body froze as you saw Jungwon smiling at you.

"Hi, Y/n"

You immediately straightened your posture and quickly tucked your messy hair behind your ears.

"H-hello, Jungwon n-nii-san," you stammered while simply trying to fix your clothes, in which you are clad in your usual pajamas with pompompurin designs. You chew the side of your cheek.

Why is it that every time you look at your worst, Jungwon always shows up?

"Nii-san?" Your brother questioned, making you look at him. His brows furrowed like he couldn't believe what he had heard.

"We've been living here in South Korea for 5 years; it should be Oppa now."

Your fist suddenly feels itchy to punch your brother at the moment.

He knows that you're not yet comfortable using those honorifics because you're still adjusting to their culture; you're still slowly trying to fit in. 

Your fist has already collided with his arm; if not, your jersey no. 4 is not here.

"O-opp—" You gulp, looking down at your feet, trying your best to find the courage to say it. Wanting to put a good impression in front of the person you are admiring, you will try to say it.

"O-opp—"

"—ah"

"O-op—" 

"It's okay, Y/n" You immediately stopped when you heard a reassuring voice. You looked up, and your eyes immediately softened when you saw Jungwon looking at you with gentleness.

"I'm fine with Nii-san; you don't have to force yourself." You felt a warm glow of reassurance spread through your body, thawing the icy grip of fear that had taken hold of you.

"Nah, man. She can say i—" Before your brother could finish his words, Jungwon's fist already collided with Ni-ki's back, playfully smacking his friend.

"Let's have your sister do what makes her comfortable. Respect her decision, dude." Your brother quickly returns the punch to his friend, which only makes the latter laugh.

As Jungwon and Ni-ki were laughing and playfully bickering at each other, you stood there watching as if your world stood still, leaving you with the feeling of a crushing wave of warmth washing over you.

In the quiet corners of your heart, a warm ember began to glow.

It flickered gently at first, timidly reaching out to the cool, untouched spaces within.

Jungwon's gentle smile, the softness of his eyes, and his kindness made the ember grow, its flames dancing in harmony with the newfound rhythm of your heartbeat that you didn't know suddenly changed into something more.

'Uh, oh, you're falling in love'

The fluttering of your heart becomes more frequent and pronounced that every time Jungwon appears in your line of sight, you experience this peculiar feeling.

These little flutters seemed to build into a crescendo, filling your heart with a strange yet amazing feeling.

Every word that Jungwon says to you always shows how pure and kind his soul was, making the beat of your heart grow louder as if announcing to the cosmos the love that is blossoming within you.

Slowly, your heart was no longer fluttering; it was soaring.

'Oh no, you're falling in love'

You had always believed in love because of your parents, but you had never truly understood its power until now.

You realized that love was more than a fleeting connection; it was the awakening of your soul.

It was a feeling that washed over you like a gentle wave, leaving you breathless and craving for more.

As you look at Jungwon, a new, profound, warm sensation spreads through your chest, gradually seeping into every corner of your being.

It was a sensation of love, softening your edges and illuminating your soul.

It was a feeling that found solace in vulnerability and flourished in the light of trust.

'Oh, you're falling in love.'

Chapter Five

The newfound realization made your heart skip a beat and sent a rush of nervous energy through your veins.

You can't believe it, you have fallen in love.

With such a simple word, its complexities were unraveling before you, leaving you both exhilarated and terrified.

At a young age, you already found yourself entangled in a web of emotions that you had never encountered.

It was your first taste of this intoxicating elixir, and you were utterly unprepared for its effects.

With this newfound love came a wave of shyness that seemed to wash over you whenever you were in Jungwon's presence, making you tongue-tied like every word you wanted to say remained locked behind closed lips.

You couldn't even bring yourself to meet his gaze when you brought snacks to your brother's room while they were studying.

As you thought they were both studying.

Because upon handling their snack, you realized that only your brother was engrossed in his studies, while Jungwon was actively helping and guiding him, almost like a dedicated tutor.

This observation lingered in your thoughts, making you seek clarification from your mother about it.

"Oh, Jungwon?" Your mother started "his tutoring your brother on some of his subjects for weeks now." She continued while chopping some vegetables for dinner.

While this information seemed like a casual detail to your mother, for you, it was a revelation that left your eyes widening in shock.

How had you not noticed him doing this earlier, especially considering he had been tutoring your brother in his room for several days now?

What surprised you even more was how he managed to balance this commitment with the intensity of their practice games.

"But why? He's an athlete like Riki-nisan; wouldn't it be exhausting to do both?" Your curiosity compelled you to ask.

The chopping abruptly ceased. Your mother gently set down the knife, her gaze softening as she looked at you.

"You see, Jungwon has been struggling to pay off all of his school expenses—" You saw how the sad smile made its way to your mother's face.

"—despite working part-time, it hasn't been enough. Your brother offered financial assistance, but he always refused. Your brother was determined to help, so he proposed the idea of Jungwon tutoring your brother in subjects he was struggling with," your mother explained, continuing to chop vegetables as you listened attentively.

"That young boy is such a genuine friend to your brother. Despite his financial struggles, he consistently rejects any money from your brother's pocket. If only his mother hadn't fallen ill, he would have also declined your brother's offer."

The weight of the revelation made your heart sink.

While you admired Jungwon for his skills and charm, little did you know about the silent battles he faced. Yet, he remained a compassionate soul willing to endure hardships to support his family.

"So, if your friends are also struggling with their studies, let me know so we can recommend Jungwon to them, okay?" Your mother said with a hopeful smile on her face, also wanting to extend her help to her son's friend.

You nodded and agreed without hesitation, though deep down, a secret plan was forming in your mind.

You were the one who would be getting the tutoring sessions with Jungwon.

If Ni-ki was naturally a sports prodigy, you on the other hand were a naturally gifted student, excelling in all subjects effortlessly.

Despite being smart and not needing any help with your studies, you plan to take on the role of a struggling student to help Jungwon to support him financially.

With that plan, you were more determined to help Jungwon rather than get closer to him.

You were pacing back and forth, your heart pounding with anticipation. It was the day of your tutoring session with the person who only can make your heart do crazy act like this.

When you brought up the topic of needing a tutor during dinner, your parents were taken aback, nearly choking on their food.

It seemed incomprehensible to them that their academically successful daughter, particularly excelling in physics, would require assistance in any subject.

Fortunately, you are gifted an understanding parents who acknowledge that even bright students face challenges. Consequently, they graciously granted your request for a tutor, specifically Jungwon as your tutor in the subject where you usually excel the most—physics.

You will literally rot in hell for lying too much to your parents.

Back in your brother's room—which is the place you have requested to use for your tutor session—your mind swirling with thoughts of how the session would go.

You meticulously organized your study materials, ensuring they were arranged perfectly on your desk. You adjusted your hair, clothes, and everything in an attempt to look decent.

When the knock finally came at the door, your heart felt like leaped into your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts, before answering it. There stood Jungwon, clad in a fresh fluffy gray hoodie with a shy smile playing on his lips.

"Hey, Y/n. How are you today?" He casually asks as he enters your brother's room, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on you.

"I-I'm g-good, thank y-you." You cleared your throat, trying to cover your stuttered response. You felt your face immediately flush from embarrassment.

Jungwon smiled gently, sensing your nervousness. "Great! Let's start our lesson then," he said, pulling out a chair for you. "Remember, there's no need to be nervous. We're here to learn together, and I'm here to help."

From his assurance, you felt again the familiar melody in your heart that you can slowly put into a song, and it swelled every time he spoke with kindness.

Whenever you feel embarrassed or in trouble speaking your mind, Jungwon always catches you with soothing words, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It was as if he knew exactly what to say to make you feel validated and loved.

His kind words seemed to have a power of their own, melting away your doubts and worries.

It wasn't just the words, though. It was the way Jungwon said them, the gentle sincerity in his voice. His words were not empty promises or shallow compliments; they held a genuine warmth that touched your heart.

Each day, his kind words reaffirmed your belief that your heart made the right choice in loving him.

"I hear you were having trouble in advanced physics?" You sheepishly nodded, crossing your fingers under the table, invoking a protective power to mitigate the bad consequences that will come to you for lying too much.

"Well, it's not your fault for finding this subject challenging. Teaching this level of physics in 7th grade is a bit advanced for young minds. I only started learning it last year in the 11th grade," Jungwon said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Our school's curriculum isn't the best, is it?" he added with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, earning a giggle from you.

He smiled, sensing that you were getting more comfortable, and began to slowly proceed with tutoring you.

As the session went on, Jungwon always been patient with you, eager to make you comfortable around him and create an environment wherein you could truly "learn."

But you've got to admit, the tips he is providing to help you understand the concept better are much easier to grasp than the way your teacher teaches.

As you spent more time with Jungwon, diving into deeper topics week after week, your feelings for him grew stronger. The way he explained things made you admire and like him more.

In those quite study moments, he made the subject matter feel like a beautiful melody, resonating not just in your head but also in your heart.

Falling for Jungwon was like a slow waterfall, this gentle descent into a realm where every drop carried a piece of your heart, cascading softly into the pool of emotions that brought a sense of calmness to your soul.

As the weeks pass, not only your feelings blossom but also your friendship with Jungwon.

Jungwon is an easygoing person, conversations with him flowed like a gentle stream, unhurried and reassuring. 

Before you start to study, he will ask about how your day went, and he will also share his with you.

Whenever you take a break from the study session, he will offer an icebreaker, such as playing a little bit of brain games or letting you rumble about the manga you were reading while he listens attentively.

One of the things you always look forward to in your study sessions is his thoughtful gifts, given as a reward every time you ace the study exercises or tests and quizzes in physics.

Sometimes, he surprises you with snacks, sharing his favorite jelly, and there's that one thing you can't forget: gifting you the latest volume of the manga you were reading.

"Since you ace the exam last time," Jungwon declared with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I think my student deserves this reward." The corners of his lips curled into a playful smile, as he reached for his bag and pulled out a paper bag and handed it to you.

Curiosity piqued, you eagerly open the bag to reveal the latest volume of your favorite manga series.

Your eyes immediately widened in surprise, a delightful smile spreading across your face. "Jungwon nii-san, you remembered!" You exclaimed, flipping through the pages with excitement. " I can't believe you got this for me!"

Jungwon softly grinned, his own excitement mirrored in his eyes. "Of course, I remembered. You've been talking about this series non-stop, so I thought you'd appreciate having the next volume"

You couldn't count how many time you have been grateful for Jungwon's kindness, the kindness that always feels so warm and welcoming.

However, as you observed the way he interacted with others, you realized that his kindness and warmth were extended to all.

You're not as special to him as you thought.

You felt a bittersweet pang in your chest, acknowledging that he only saw you as his student, a friend, and nothing more.

Much worse, as his little sister.

In the bustling football stadium, under the warm glow of the stadium lights, you found yourself once again in your usual seat, holding your breath as the football game were in full swing. The players of Nightball team sprinted across the field, their feet grazing the perfectly manicured grass.

Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat as Jungwon miraculously spotted you amidst the crowd.

A wide smile spread across Jungwon's face, and he waved at you with unreserved excitement. Your heart fluttered, surprised that he had noticed your presence among the large supporters. You waved back, returning his infectious smile.

As the game continued, you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with Jungwon, knowing that after all months of unwavering support for him, he was finally aware of it.

In a brief pause between play, Jungwon jog on your way to quickly thank you for cheering for him, as he talks to you, another talented football player, Jake, approached him, curiosity and amusement evident on is face.

He nudged him and teasingly asked, "Who's this girl you're waving at, man? Do we have a secret fan club now?"

Jungwon simply chuckled, "This is Ni-ki's little sister, Y/n." he look down at you with a softness in his eyes as he gently patted your head, "She's like my little sister too."

You felt a pang in your chest as disappointment washed over you, slowly realizing your position in Jungwon's life.

While your heart crazily beat of full affection for him, his was platonically calm for you.

Despite all of that, you swallowed the hurtful truth and softly smiled, accepting the role of being his only little sister.

From then on, you made a choice to embrace the only friendship you have with Jungwon without demanding more.

You continue to fill the pages of your heart with cherished moments, etching them with love and gratitude.

With each passing day, you learn the true essence of selflessness and acceptance.

Despite the unrequited love that lingered in the depths of your soul, you found solace in the knowledge that the friendship you shared with Jungwon was a treasure you could forever hold dear.

Although you acknowledge already the fact that your relationship with Jungwon will only stay as friends, it didn't stop you to continue sending him gifts and letters still anonymously.

You were happily skipping your way through the school hallway as the morning sun shone brightly, clutching yet again a beautifully wrapped gift along with a heartfelt letter of encouragement for his upcoming football game, and also discreetly thanking him for showing kindness and his help in tutoring you.

But as you approached Jungwon's locker, you noticed him standing there with his group of friends.

Startled, you quickly ducked behind a nearby row of lockers.

Seeing him still engrossed in conversation with his friends and seems like they have no plans to leave the lockers at any moment, you decided to retreat and come back later when they were gone.

With a small and hopeful smile, you turned around and began walking away. But just as you were about to go to your class, something caught your attention.

"Man, you remember the gift that Jungwon received last Friday?" an unfamiliar voice of a boy started, piquing your interest, especially since you knew you had gifted Jungwon that day.

"The design looks so damn childish like it was made by an elementary schooler for their art project." The boy snickered, "And all of the things, a freaking garden design mug as a gift?" he mockingly remarked with a chuckle, causing the others to burst into laughter.

You felt like someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water over your head when you overheard their conversations. It felt as though an icy hand wrapped itself around your heart, squeezing it with an unbearable heaviness.

You in fact, gifted him a mug with a garden design, thinking he will like it because it reminds you of him and his name upon seeing it on the store.

With tears slowly well up in your eyes, you look down at your gift, which is wrapped in Tamama design gift wrappers with a cute bow ribbon.

Well, maybe they were right, your choice of gifts was childish.

But you had put so much thought and effort into those gifts, believing that Jungwon would appreciate them. However, it seemed like your gesture had become the subject of ridicule.

You felt as if the world crumbling around you, your heart sinking even deeper as if it had shattered into countless fragments. The thought that Jungwon might be also laughing at your "childish" designs only added to the weight of despair.

Unable to face the humiliation, you quickly turned in your heels and retreated, your footsteps echoing the emptiness in your heart.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon, in fact, stood in silence, his usual smile faltered, a hint of offense flickering in his eyes.

"Hey, guys," he spoke up, his voice filled with a strength his friends never heard before. "That gift is special to me. It's different, sure, but it's unique. The person who gifted it to me probably has a reason for choosing a mug, and I appreciate it. It's the thought behind it that counts. So, please, show some respect."

His friends fell silent, stunned by the defense he had just given. Jungwon understood that his friends might not comprehend the deeper meaning behind someone's gift, but he couldn't let them belittle their efforts, especially since how those gifts consistently brightened his day.

You who are still unaware of Jungwon's defense, spent the rest of your day lost in your gloomy thoughts. Your heartache enveloped you like a tight cage, leaving you feeling isolated and alone.

You replayed the scene in your mind over and over, the sting of humiliation and embarrassment refused to subside.

You don't know how you will face Jungwon after all those words.

The idea of facing him, of looking into his eyes and pretending to be casual while those words in the back of your head kept stabbing you like a broken record was unbearable.

As you grappled with your own emotions, the glow of your phone screen caught your attention, announcing the arrival of a new message.

'Hi, Y/n! I might be a little bit late for our study session because of a team meeting ╥ ╥ , but I'll make sure to be there before 6:30 pm so we can have more time to study!'

'As an apology, I'll be bringing snacks~~'

The message from Jungwon illuminated your phone screen, and a mixture of conflicting emotions surged through you.

On the surface, the excitement of an incoming study session and the promise of snacks brought a fleeting smile to your face. However, deep within, a pang of heartache tugged at your insides.

The knot in your stomach tightened, and a lump formed in your throat. Jungwon's innocence, and his kindness, clashed violently with the echoes of humiliation and embarrassment that still pound within you.

The vivid memories of his friends' mockery haunted you, turning the joyous act of giving into a painful reminder of vulnerability.

With a heavy heart, you fabricated an excuse about feeling unwell and unable to attend the tutoring session that day.

It was a lie, one that marked the beginning of a pattern.

The tutor sessions turned into missed opportunities to see him, and the football games became distant scene you chose to avoid.

Jungwon, puzzled by your sudden change in behavior, continued to inquire about your well-being.

Each message from him tugged at your heart, but the walls you created held firm.

His concern was met with vague responses, masking the turmoil within you. The more he reached out, the deeper you delved into your cocoon of self-inflicted solitude.

The peak of this emotional turmoil came when Jungwon sensing your distance.

"Are you okay, Y/n?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"Are you mad at me?"

The lies you spun become more elaborate, the excuses more intricate. You assured him that everything is fine and your not mad at him, that you were just busy, that life had taken unexpected turns.

Jungwon, the patient soul he was, accepted your explanations with a grace that only deepened the ache in your chest.

When he extended an invitation to his high school graduation ceremony, offering you a ticket and a chance to be part of his celebration, you hesitated.

The battle within you raged—the desire to reconnect, to salvage what was left, clashed with the fear of facing the unspoken truths.

In the end, you declined, citing other commitments and responsibilities that seemed to multiply in your made-up reality.

You both slowly grew apart, especially as he moved to another city to pursue his dreams at a different university.

It was a bittersweet decision but for now, you resigned yourself to the knowledge that some chapters must end before new ones can begin.

And though your story with Jungwon may have concluded on a sour note, you refused to close the book entirely, holding on to the faint glimmer of hope that perhaps, someday, your path would cross once more.

©2024 Demuse Writer. All Right Reserved.

[animasola86]

Lessons in Love-Making

Notes: So I received an amazing request recently and this is what I made of it! I hope you enjoy! (If you like to give me smut requests as well, please feel free to do so! My inbox is open!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Assisted masturbation. Voice kink. Fingering. Sex. (Infidelity?)

Word count: 9.8k

Synopsis: To say you and your boyfriend have a poor sex life would be an understatement. One day after a particularly horrible experience, you find yourself crying in the hallway. And then Sebastian finds you, always eager to lend a hand.

Warning: It's smut time again! Yay! I mean, beware, there's some spice below the cut! Don't get it in your eyes!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

Lessons in Love-making

You are tense. So tense, your entire body is shaking. Gritting your teeth and clenching your hands into fists as you walk through the empty hallway, you are not surprised when the first tears roll down your cheeks. Because you are not just tense, you are frustrated. And you've been frustrated for quite a while now.

It always comes to you when you walk back to your common room, in that post-haze clarity, not that there had been any haze, there was fog, sure, perhaps a few lightning bolts and one clap of thunder, and the rain that should be soothing was just a little drizzle, if it came at all.

And if you had time to think of silly metaphors for your poor sex life, then it really wasn't that good apparently.

You let out a shuddering sigh and stop walking, too wound up to wipe at your wet cheeks. Too wound up to do anything and so you sink to the ground and just sit there, trying to ease your breathing and your drumming heart, trying to clear your head and not think of what has happened and what has been happening over the last months.

Soon you are so focused on creating your own personal pro and con list, that you shriek loudly when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You jump and hit your head against the wall behind you, looking up with wide eyes and your mouth open.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”

And just like that your mind is empty. His voice makes sure of that. And that smile. Yet all you do is stare, while the tears still stream down your face.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks as he settles down next to you on the floor.

You let out a sob and raise a hand to wipe at your tears, before you give him a shrug and half-hearted grunt of confirmation. He raises an eyebrow and watches you closely.

“What happened?” he inquires with that low voice that causes your tense body to shudder deeply.

You swallow and look away, unable to answer him right away. Even though he's been your friend for quite some time now and you've shared a lot of low and high points together and you know you can tell him anything, you feel embarrassed to address your frustration.

You feel him scooting closer and then his hand is on your knee. “Did he do something?” he asks and just the implication that your boyfriend could have done something bad to you makes you turn your head.

“No!” you say quickly, before you pause and let out a dry laugh. “That's the thing, really... he never does... anything...”

Sebastian tilts his head, frowning slightly as his dark eyes wander over your face. “He doesn't satisfy you, eh?” he then states and the brutal straight-forwardness of his words makes you wince.

You don't answer right away and that is probably answer enough. Sighing deeply, you look down at his hand on your knee, feeling his warm touch and how it affects you. And you shouldn't feel like this. Because you have a boyfriend and it is not Sebastian Sallow. You would add sadly, but in truth you are quite content with the boy that asked you to be his girlfriend almost six months ago.

You love talking to him, you feel safe in his presence, he makes you laugh and happy. But when it came to sex, he was really... bad. And for months you've just dealt with it, not complaining, just trying to be happy for him because apparently it was quite enough for his liking. And the sad truth is that you've accepted feeling unattended whenever he would find his release – and then fall asleep right after. You didn't even mind the pain any more, because quite frankly, it was the only thing you could count on whenever you would end up in bed with him.

Tonight has been especially bad, causing your ever-growing frustration to burst through the seams of your patience. And the tears that won't stop flowing are proof of that.

“Please don't mention this to anyone,” you whisper and wipe at your cheeks again. “It... it really is not that big a deal...”

“Are you sure about that?” Sebastian asks and gently grabs your chin to make you look at him. “This does look like a big deal to me...”

You shake your head and his hand away, sobbing quietly. “I'm just frustrated and it's okay, it'll pass, like always. It's silly, really, crying over something like that...”

“It's not, you have needs too. Everyone has. And you shouldn't just be his plaything...” he tells you quietly, his voice vibrating through your very core.

“I'm not! You know he's not like that...” you start defending your boyfriend once more.

The boy next to you watches you closely. “Perhaps you want to be his plaything, but he just doesn't comply.”

“Stop saying plaything, it's vulgar!” you hiss.

He laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “I can be more blunt, don't worry,” he says and nudges your knee before he leans away and crosses his arms behind his head. “So why don't you take care of your frustration yourself?” he then whispers, his eyes on you.

You stare at him, a little puzzled, before it dawns on you what he means. Averting your eyes, you blush deeply. “I... uh, tried, but it wasn't for me...” you admit eventually under your breath. “It doesn't feel right...”

“Then you may have done it wrong,” he says and leans closer again.

Swallowing hard, you raise your gaze and meet his. “I think I know my body and what it... wants...”

“Do you though?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“Well, of course, it's my body!”

“But then why are you crying in the hallway because your sorry excuse for a boyfriend can't satisfy you the way you like it, hm?”

His words hang in the air, luckily only reaching your ears, and you look at him long and hard. The longer you stare into those dark eyes that practically sparkle in mischief, the hotter you feel, your cheeks positively aflame as they burn your tears right off your skin.

“I can help you,” he then says quietly, and the implication alone makes you lean back from him.

“What? No! I... I have --”

“Yes, I know what you have,” he sighs and tilts his head. “And I'm not saying you should cheat on him with me, okay? I just want to... show you something. Help you out. Fight that frustration with you. Make you feel better.”

His promises sink into your mind and leave you wanting exactly that. You know how good he is at manipulating you, not that you would call it that, he was just very convincing. Persuasive even. And this was for your own good, wasn't it? Like he said, you have needs too. And as you wipe at your burning eyes, you find yourself inhaling deeply, before you nod shortly.

When you look at him, you see his face lighting up, the faint shadow of dimples gracing his freckled cheeks. “Of course this will be purely educational,” he tells you with a wink as he gets to his feet and holds his hand out for you to grab.

When you do and he pulls you into a standing position as well, you bite your lip and square your shoulders. “Of course,” you agree.

*

“So tell me what you usually do with him,” Sebastian asks as you sit down on that old couch in the far back of the dimly lit Undercroft.

You feel embarrassed, but then you sigh. “Well, we sit on his bed and then we... kiss and that's quite nice,” you start, already defending your boyfriend again, almost unconsciously. “And he would touch me...”

“Where?” the boy next to you inquires.

You look at your hands in your lap. “He usually gropes my breasts, sometimes my hips,” you whisper, before you look at him and he nods to make you continue. “Then he'd lie on top of me --”

“Are you naked when he does that?” You wince slightly at the bluntness of his question and look away again.

“No,” you admit, your ears burning. “He... doesn't like being naked...”

Sebastian laughs loudly at that, before clearing his throat. “I'm sorry, I...” he says a little breathlessly, before he shakes his head. “So you just grope each other through your clothes? But you do have sex, right?”

You blush deeply once more and fidget with your fingers. “Well, yes, he would push my underwear off and... stick it in...”

You hear him stifle another noise of surprise or whatever you want to call that gurgle that escapes his throat and you start feeling a little more frustrated, but for a different reason. “And then what?” you hear him ask once he catches himself again.

“He'd...” You let out a groan. “Tell me again why it is necessary to share these things with you?” you ask and stare at him.

“Well I have to know what you already do know in order to teach you more,” he tells you with a smile. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ridicule your boyfriend, I'm sure he has other redeeming qualities...”

“He has!” you confirm with narrowed eyes. “That's why I put up with that, okay?”

He raises his eyebrows, then nods. “I see. So, please, continue, tell me what exactly he does that leaves you so frustrated.”

You sigh and inhale deeply. “Well, he... comes very quickly. He's barely in there before he... grunts, pulls out and comes all over my stomach...”

“He doesn't even finish inside?” Sebastian exclaims in surprise.

“Because he shouldn't!” you reply a little more agitated than you've expected.

“Why not? You do take those contraceptive potions, don't you?” He tilts his head, looking genuinely concerned now.

“Yes, I do, all the girls do, we are basically forced to. Nurse Blainey makes sure of that...” you whisper.

“But then why doesn't he come inside you?” he asks as if you were talking about what to eat for breakfast and he was really appalled by your choice of cereal.

You take a sharp breath and look away. “I don't know, he probably doesn't like it...”

“I bet he never even tried...” you hear him whisper. “Trust me, it's the best feeling...”

You swallow and look at him. His smile is both boyishly charming and devilishly sultry. “So you know your stuff, eh?” you whisper under your breath.

He laughs. “I do, love,” he says with a wink. “And I'm going to teach you a thing or two. If you let me,” he adds quietly.

You are intrigued, certainly. And you've already shared all those embarrassing things with him. Talking about more couldn't possibly hurt, right?

But you haven't taken into account that Sebastian Sallow was more for learning by doing than anything, so you suddenly find yourself sitting sideways on the couch, your legs lying on his lap as he gently pushes your skirt up to reveal your underwear. Biting your lip, you watch him.

“So how would you normally touch yourself?” he asks as he looks into your eyes, making it sound so easy and simple as if he wanted to know your favourite colour.

You blush and look down, moving your hand between your legs slowly. “I'd... rub right here...” you whisper and put your middle finger against the thick fabric of your bloomers, lightly teasing your heated skin.

“No skin contact?” You shake your head and he huffs quietly. “Love, you have to give your body room to breathe, let the air caress your skin, put your fingers right in there, properly feel yourself. May I?” he then asks and you look up in surprise when he gently grabs your hand.

You nod hesitantly and watch how he moves your hand against your centre, repeating the motion you just made, guided by his slender fingers pressing against yours. “Remember this feeling, okay?” He then grabs the waistband of your underwear with his free hand and without hesitation pushes your hand beneath the fabric until you feel your fingers gliding over your hot, wet skin.

You gasp and almost jerk your hand away if he wouldn't hold it. You can feel not only your fingers, but his as well, as he presses your hand firmer against your skin. “How does that feel?” he whispers and his voice alone makes you issue a tiny whimper.

Taking a shuddering breath, you feel him letting go of your hand, before he puts his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and in a swift and unexpected motion pushes it down your hips and off your rear and legs, and you barely even noticed him raising your body for that. Too shocked about his brash action to fully react to it, you instead focus on your hand resting on your exposed mound, your fingers teasing at your folds. Your first instinct is to cover yourself with your other hand, but you hear him shushing you softly.

His hand is lying on your thigh now, his touch warm and somewhat comforting. You bite your lip and look at him. With a smile he tells you: “Come on, don't be shy, touch yourself.”

Oddly enough you don't feel shy at all in his presence, a little taken aback maybe, but not shy. And so you start moving your finger over your skin, exploratively, literally testing the waters as you let it slide over your lower lips and then between them. After just a few rubs, you feel your breath accelerating.

“You might want to move your finger a little higher,” he whispers, his voice not only helping you calm down under the unusual task he's given you, but also helping you in other ways that are quite the opposite of relaxing.

You follow his advise and move your fingertip higher until you feel the little nub that causes your stomach to tense slightly when you touch it. You breathe loudly through your nose as you push your finger against it and start rubbing slow circles around it. Closing your eyes you focus on the sensation, until you feel a warm breath near your ear.

“That's it, keep doing that,” Sebastian whispers right into your ear after he has leaned closer to you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. You open your mouth slightly and take a shuddering breath. “Feels good, right?” he continues, his voice causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin like waves. That or the steady movement of your finger. You feel your hips stuttering slightly, your thighs twitching with every push against that agitated bundle of nerves.

“Oh yes...” you moan softly and lean your head back, chewing on your lips as you work your finger against yourself. You feel a familiar tension, yet somehow it feels different, more intense, and you move harder and faster against that nub. As your body starts shaking badly, almost spasming, you feel his hand pressing on your thigh as if to calm you, or hold you in place, and in your desire to finally finish this you grab it with your free hand and close your fingers around his.

He holds onto your hand tightly and even scoots closer to you, lifting and parting your legs slightly as he does so, and then wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Almost there, love,” he whispers and you whimper under the sound of his voice, your eyes squeezed shut as you lean against him, furiously rubbing yourself. “You're doing so well,” he adds and his praise is what pushes you right over the edge.

You buck your hips and cling to his hand as you feel the coil that had been sitting in your stomach for so long, unattended and so tightly twisted it was almost painful, suddenly explode into a blindingly bright light. You gasp and cry out, your legs twitching as your toes curl up and you feel the blood rushing through your head while you hold your breath under the unknown feeling of your release.

As you slowly come down from your high, your fingers shaking against your heated skin, you feel him stroking your arm and squeezing your hand. “Well done,” he whispers and you feel his lips brushing against your hair. You are breathing heavily and when you open your eyes, you see him smiling at you. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted and trembling. You feel as if you've just run up several staircases.

“Was that your first orgasm?” he then asks and you just look at him, taking in his face, until the cold reality of the situation comes back to you. Blinking slowly, you squirm against him, but he holds you tightly, not letting you go.

“I... I shouldn't have --” you mutter under your breath, quickly looking away again, biting your lip.

“Oh you definitely should have, that was long overdue apparently,” he says quietly, shifting beneath you until he pulls you right onto his lap. You lean your shoulder against his chest and slowly look at him, fighting the embarrassment. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispers as he tilts his head, his dark eyes on you. “That was beautiful to witness.”

His words do the exact opposite of what he has intended, they don't reassure you, they make it worse. You look away with a hoarse groan, chewing nervously on your lips as you clamp your hands to your core and clench your thighs around them, too shaken still to think about just covering yourself with your skirt.

“Do you feel a little better at least?”

“A little,” you confess quietly.

“I'm sure there's more where that came from,” he then whispers, his lips right against your ear and you flinch and turn your head towards him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently, truly innocently because you just don't know any better.

He smirks at you. “You know, love, unlike men, who need a little time to gather themselves, women are capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in quick succession,” he explains almost matter-of-factly and you listen with blushed cheeks but growing interest. “Do you want to test that theory?”

You stare at him and lick your lips, still feeling the distant shudders of your last release, but you know he's right. You've been tense for so long, never able to let it all out, so why stop now? The harm is already done, you tell yourself and try not to think of the details of experiencing this whole thing with another boy while your boyfriend is probably fast asleep and happy about what you'd done earlier.

“Yes,” you tell Sebastian quietly and watch him smile wider at you. Without any warning, he then grabs your shoulders and turns you around until your back is pressed against his chest and you sit with your legs wide open astride on his lap, facing the vast space of the Undercroft.

“You can put your feet on the couch if you want, but keep those legs open, okay?” he whispers, his breath hitting your ear as he leans his head around slightly. You shift on top of him and gasp softly when he snakes his arms under yours and around your torso, grabbing the fabric of your skirt to ball it up more and push it out of the way.

“I can... take it off...” you mumble under your breath.

“If you want to,” he says and lets go of it.

You stand up then and suddenly feel your legs shaking beneath you. He quickly grabs your waist to support you and you inhale deeply to gather yourself. With shaking fingers you unclasp your skirt and push it off your hips until it drops to your feet. Stepping out of it, you then settle back on his lap and put your feet up like he told you to. You can feel the soft fabric of his trousers and slightly more as you shift your rear against him to find a comfortable position.

His hands now roam freely all the way to your legs, his thumbs teasing at your inner thighs. “I can assume you've never had a finger inside you?” he whispers against you and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Isn't it enough to have a --” Weirdly enough you can't say it, can't name it. You feel your cheeks blush even more.

“The word is cock, darling,” he tells you in that sultry voice that masks the vulgarity of his words so well. “Or dick or whatever you want to call it,” he adds with a chuckle. “Don't be afraid to name it. It won't bite. It's there for your pleasure, you know?” You squirm and make a low noise of embarrassment. He only chuckles again. “And you know, no, it's not enough to have a cock in your pussy. It is certainly the main goal, but there are so many other things you can use to pleasure yourself. Like your fingers,” he concludes and you feel your ears burning when you listen to him. He talks about these things so easily, it's almost impressive if it wouldn't be so lewd.

As you still chew on his words, he suddenly grabs your hand and guides it between your legs, his fingers on yours as he presses them against your folds that feel warm and wet under your touch. You inhale sharply and bite your lip. Feeling him rest his chin on your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against yours, you look down and watch him move your hand up and down your mound, teasing at your clit, pressing into your slit until you feel your fingertip pushing against your entrance.

“Give it a try,” he tells you quietly and just the sound of his voice makes you close your eyes and take a deep breath, before you tease your fingertip into your hole.

It feels so tight and you suddenly know why it hurts every time your overeager boyfriend presses his thing (still can't even think about it) into you without warning or preparation. You feel Sebastian moving his fingers back to close around your wrist as he guides your hand further, pushing your finger deeper. You shudder at the sensation.

“How does it feel?” he asks and you feel the vibrations of his voice more than you hear his words.

“Weird,” you reply quietly as your finger scrapes over your soft wet flesh. “So... squishy...”

He chuckles. “That makes it so desirable, love,” he whispers and you feel him turn his head and brush his lips against your jaw. “It can be soft and welcoming, but then it can clench and tighten and really squeeze...” He inhales deeply, almost longingly, when all you can do is focus on his voice and the sensation that causes inside you.

And you knew then that it wasn't your finger inside you that made your stomach tense, it was the timbre of his voice, those low vibrations, the way he pronounced certain words, those low and high notes of his speech, and that combined with his lewd words was just irresistible to you. A soft moan escapes you as you shift slightly against him, pressing your back into his chest.

“Keep talking,” you whisper as you move your finger a little faster against your flesh. “Please...”

He seems to pause at your request, then you feel a warm exhale against your cheek as he breathes a throaty laugh. “You like my voice, huh?” he concludes and all you can do is nod. “That's new. Have you always --” He pauses again. “Are you honestly jerking off to my voice right now?” he asks and you blush and bite your lip, but you don't stop moving your finger against yourself.

He laughs softly and tightens his grip on your wrist as he helps you with that motion. “Try adding another finger,” he tells you, his lips brushing against your ear and you shiver deeply. You comply and slip your index finger in with your middle finger, slightly stretching your entrance as you do so. Another moan escapes you. “Push as deep as you can,” he continues in a low whisper that resonates through your entire body. You do what he says and you don't even flinch at the wet squelching sound you create with your movements. “In and out, that's right,” he comments on what you're doing. “Go a little faster, really move those digits. The more friction the better, love.”

You feel your heart pounding inside your chest as you work your hand against your folds, your fingers slipping in and out fast and hard and you can feel your walls clenching around them, certainly reacting to your touch. Your breaths become shallow and you feel your wrist hurting from him holding it and you moving your hand so much, but you keep going.

“Now put your thumb on your clit,” he whispers, seemingly watching you follow his every word. “Pump those fingers and press against your clit and I bet it'll feel even better...” And it does and you almost flinch off his lap if he wouldn't hold you as you feel your thighs twitching when you start rubbing the sensitive nub with every rapid pump motion of your fingers.

You lean your head back against him, breathing louder and harder, your whole body shuddering under the sensation. “You're so good at this,” he tells you and you feel even better. “And I wonder why you never did this before, you're a natural.”

“You... you're... helping...” you whimper breathlessly. You hear him chuckle and then his lips press against your ear.

“Am I?” he whispers with his voice so deep and low that you can only moan more. “And I could tell you anything? And you would still find it... sexy? Hmm,” he hums and you almost lose it right there and then. “Hmm, okay, so, did you know --”

But you never heard whatever he wanted to tell you as your entire body shuddered all over again. You arch your back against him as you buck your hips off his lap and really push your feet into the cushions of the couch when you feel that awful knot tensing up painfully once more before it breaks free with such a force that you let out a cry of pleasure that echoes loudly through the Undercroft. While your hips stutter, you feel something warm and wet coating your hand as you finally still your movements and even press your thighs together before you curl up on his lap, shaking uncontrollably under your release.

He holds you in his arms as you shake and whimper, gently cooing in your ear, and you feel completely spent and very, very happy as you lean against him, smiling tiredly as your eyelids flutter open.

“That was powerful...” he whispers as he meets your eyes with a smirk. “Well done. You even squirted, I'm impressed,” he tells you and you frown at his words, before you loosen your legs and open them once more, only to see a large wet stain on his green trousers.

Despite the sensation still rushing through your body, you basically jump off his lap and hide your face in nothing but pure humiliation as you stand awkwardly in front of the couch, your release still dripping down your legs as you shift on them shakily. “No! Oh no, I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't --”

He is with you immediately, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you against him. “Shh, it's alright! Don't worry about it! It's completely natural,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “And I can clean that up, no problem. Don't be ashamed! Be proud!”

You issue a strangled noise and bury your burning face in his shirt, your hands clawing at the back of it. It takes you a moment to recover and you feel even sillier over how you've reacted to your mess. “Sorry,” you mumble once more and he shushes you once more.

He even grabs your shoulders and leans you back, looking at you with a serious expression that stuns you for a moment. “Don't apologize,” he whispers and tilts his head. “I wanted you to feel good about yourself, and didn't you feel good just now?”

You swallow and nod almost a little timidly, chewing on your lip.

Sebastian smiles at you. “Then focus on that,” he says and you feel his hands moving down your arms until they hold your waist and pull you closer to him. “And I'm sure you want to feel good again, don't you?”

You take a shuddering breath, unsure if you do. But then he leads you back to the couch, sits down and pulls you onto his soiled lap. You shift a little uncomfortably as he pulls his arms around you and presses your shoulder into his chest. You look at him a little conflicted.

“Hey, cheer up!” he says with a smirk and kisses the top of your head. “And tell me... what do you think about toys?” You frown when he goes back to the topic right away as if nothing has happened. He mistakes your facial expression for confusion and adds: “You know, those phallic things that imitate the real deal? Or other toys you can stuff your pussy with?”

His lewd words make you shiver in slight discomfort and yet they also cause the heat to pool back between your legs immediately. “Haven't thought about those before,” you reply shyly, even though you hold his dark gaze.

“Want to test them out?”

“Do you have stuff like that?” you ask in earnest and surprise, before he chuckles and makes you frown again.

“I'm a wizard, love, I can conjure you anything you desire,” he says with a wink and you blush deeply.

“Perhaps... another time,” you reply eventually. “I... I think I'm good for tonight.”

He watches you closely. “Are you sure? Are you completely frustration-free?”

You consider his question, your eyes wandering over his freckled face. While he waits for your answer, you go back in time and think about your friendship with him. This was still a friendship, right? You have shared so many things, the good and the bad, the worst even, and you were always there for each other. But you have never been this intimate. You've hugged and he's kissed your head a couple of times, tonight included, and he didn't shy away from holding your hand or touching you (appropriately), but you never did the things lovers would do.

And somehow you still didn't consider what has happened tonight to be something like that. He had just helped you, assisted you in relieving the tension that's been troubling you for so long. He's never touched you (inappropriately) himself and you know he wouldn't do that without your permission. And even if the thought of pleasuring yourself right in front of him was still a little daunting to you, you haven't felt too awkward about it because he has made you feel so at ease.

Sitting comfortably on his lap, leaning against his chest, looking into his dark eyes, you suddenly wonder about something else and despite not really wanting to go down that road right now, you just can't shake the thought. So you voice it. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” he replies, watching you patiently, a gentle smile playing around his lips.

“Why... aren't you my boyfriend?” you ask quietly and for the first time tonight you see him blush. He quickly clears his throat and laughs it off, shaking his head.

“Yes, love, why am I not your boyfriend?” he teases and nudges your shoulder playfully. “Take a guess.”

“Because I chose him or because he was faster in asking me?” you whisper.

You see him clenching his jaw, before he gives you one of his carefree smirks – that you know he uses to hide his deeper thoughts behind. “Both? Honestly, I am happy when you are happy and if you're happy with him --” He pauses then, watching you closely with the smirk slowly fading. “Are you happy with him? If I learned one thing about your beloved boyfriend tonight, it's that he seems to neglect you pretty horribly.”

You inhale sharply. “No, he doesn't! He's really sweet, he just doesn't know any better...” you quickly fall back into defending him.

“And apparently he's unwilling to learn either. Or do you guys just not talk about these things?” he says quietly, his tone a tad too serious for your liking. When you avert your gaze and bite your lip, he exhales loudly. “Of course you don't talk about it! Darling, you have to talk to him if you want to have a better experience! The times are changing, you don't have to take them like they come, you can fight against them, make them better!”

“It's really not that important...” you start quietly, even though you want to agree with him. But some things are always easier said than done.

“Really? It was important enough for you to get so frustrated that you ended up crying in the hallway! I bet he wouldn't like to see you crying either. Talk to him!” he insists, his arms tightening slightly around you. “Or shall I talk to him?”

“No!” you exclaim immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. “Please don't! I --” When you see his smirk, you groan and hit his chest playfully. “Don't even joke about it, okay? He can never find out what... happened here tonight...”

“You know your secrets are safe with me, stop worrying so much!” he says gently and raises a hand to push a strand of your hair out of your forehead. “What we have is special, isn't it? I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.”

“Me neither,” you agree, your eyes boring into his. “Sebastian, I... I want to thank you...” you then start, shifting nervously on his lap.

“No need, love, it's quite alright. I'm always here for you,” he replies, but you shake your head.

“I mean it, let me thank you,” you whisper urgently and he raises an eyebrow.

“What were you thinking of?” he asks then, sounding quite interested in how you want to thank him.

You lick your lips and lean closer until your lips are brushing against his ear for a change. “I...” You blush deeply and inhale sharply, before you lean back and look at him once more. “Listen, don't take this the wrong way. I mean, we've already crossed some lines today, right? So...” Taking another deep breath, you return to whisper into his ear: “I want you to come inside me.”

He grabs your shoulders and stares at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

You fight the heat overtaking your face and hold your breath when you look at him. “You heard me,” you say and chew on your lips.

“I'm not so sure, to be honest...” he replies quietly, frowning deeply. “Sounded to me as if you --”

“Listen!” You inhale deeply, before you pummel him with your words. “You said it's the best feeling, right? And quite frankly, I want to experience that too for once. So this might also be a selfish request, but also a way of saying thank you for your help tonight...” Staring at him breathlessly, you blink slowly. “What do you say?”

He raises his eyebrows and watches you for a moment, unusually quiet. “Are you sure about this? That would be a major line to cross...” he whispers eventually.

“See it as a service between friends,” you explain with a shy smile.

You see him working his jaw as he looks away slowly, his eyes moving over your exposed legs. His hand moves down to your lower back, teasing under the hem of your shirt, before he lowers it to gently caress the curves of your bare rear. “And we'll still be friends afterwards? Promise?”

You tilt your head. “Of course! Why wouldn't we?”

“What if... that changes things?” he asks quietly, still not looking at you.

“Look at me,” you tell him and reluctantly, he does. “No, really, look at me! I just came all over your blasted trousers! That should have changed things, but it didn't! Not for me. We've been through so much, Sebastian. I think our friendship, or whatever you want to call this, can handle anything!”

He watches you closely, your words slowly bringing the smirk back onto his lips. But you're not done yet.

“And you know? It's only fair that I see you come undone as well, don't you think?” you whisper and smile at him, and despite your confident words and eager attempts to convince him to do that with you, you feel your cheeks burning and your stomach tensing up in anticipation. You might also be dripping onto his trousers some more, but you really don't care any more.

“I suppose,” he replies quietly and you see the tip of his tongue moving over his bottom lip. He smirks wider when he notices where your eyes have wandered. “And you wouldn't consider that cheating? You'd be sleeping with another guy...”

“There will be absolutely no sleeping, okay? Don't you dare fall asleep on me as well! I wouldn't be able to handle it,” you tell him with a hearty laugh.

He chuckles, but you can see a dark shadow crossing his eyes. “No falling asleep, I promise.”

Your eyes move over his face. “You want to do this with me, right? I wouldn't want to... force you or anything.”

His laugh is genuine this time. “You find me a teenage guy who wouldn't want to be forced to have sex!” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, ugh, you know what I mean!” You see him rolling his eyes as he blushes deeply and you chuckle softly while you raise a hand to rub at his red cheek.

“I want you to feel good too,” you whisper.

“I appreciate that,” he replies, before he tilts his head. “You know, we never even properly kissed and now you expect me to put my cock inside your pussy? That's quite the step we'd be making...”

You almost choke on your own spit when you hear his blunt words before you try to laugh off your shock. “Well... we can also do the steps in between, if it makes you feel better...”

“Well, if I have to,” he mocks your tone and smirks at you, while he extends a hand to cup your face, his long fingers moving into your hair as his thumb caresses your cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he then asks quietly, leaning a little closer.

You look at him, inhaling deeply. “Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

For a moment you just look at each other, each of you weighing the consequences of what is about to happen. But all that flies out the window, or at least your head, when he leans in and presses his lips to yours, gently, softly, testing the waters, and when you kiss him back, he tightens the grip on your face and pulls you towards him, his lips closing around yours eagerly.

You've often imagined kissing Sebastian, or at least for a long while, and you've seen him kissing other girls, but feeling his warm mouth on yours now, with his lips moving confidently against your own and his tongue cheekily slipping into your mouth feels like nothing you could have ever imagined. You are so absorbed in the sensation that you barely notice shifting on his lap until you straddle him, your chest pressed to his as you lean against him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss almost hungrily.

His hands move down to your hips and even further, and when he starts kneading the soft flesh of your rear, you moan softly into his mouth. He leans back then, watching you out of dark eyes, and you draw a much needed breath. “You really want this?” he whispers equally breathless. You nod and already lean in once more, your lips brushing over his, but he leans back again. “You really want --” You see him clenching his jaw. “You really want me to come inside you?” he says barely audible and you smile at his sudden shyness, or whatever you want to call this kind of hesitation you've certainly never seen from him before.

“Yes,” you breathe against him, your hands finding his face as you hold it firmly. “I want it all. I want you!”

His gaze becomes harder for a moment. “What if I want you too?” he then asks darkly.

You tilt your head and frown, licking your swollen lips. “What do you mean? You have me, right here.”

“What if I... wanted more?” His voice is low, but in a way that causes cold shivers instead of pleasant ones to rush down your spine.

“What are you saying?”

He inhales deeply and then shakes his head, giving you one of his smirks. “Never mind. Forget I said anything,” he then brushes it off and leans in once more to kiss you quickly.

Your turn to lean away. “Sebastian...”

He sighs loudly. “Sorry, I shouldn't have --” You see him closing his eyes for a moment and working his jaw. “This is a service between friends. We are friends, nothing more. You have a boyfriend and I'm just here to help you out when he is too incompetent to treat you right!” He exhales then, leaning his head back against the couch, and rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I mean... I just...” He issues a groan and stays silent.

You grab his face and look at him. He avoids your gaze. “Do you want me to break up with him?” you then ask as straight forward as possible.

His eyes find yours. “I would never ask that of you,” he tells you and even though he sounds sincere, you know better.

“That's not my question,” you whisper.

“Why do you press this so much? Let's just fuck and get it over with!” he grimaces darkly and sits up straighter again, grabbing your waist. “Or not, if you don't want any more because I ruined the mood or something...”

You sigh and roll your shoulders, your thumbs grazing over his cheeks. “Tell me to break up with him,” you say quietly and watch his eyes go wider.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You don't mean it,” he says quietly, eyeing you closely.

“What if I do? We could do this all the time, without having to hide anything...” you whisper, licking your lips.

“I thought you love him...”

“I love talking to him, spending time with him. The sex, if you want to call it that, was just a... necessity...” you tell him and scoff.

He watches you with dark eyes, his face hard. “What if he doesn't want to talk to you any more... afterwards?”

“His loss,” you say surprisingly indifferently. “I enjoy his presence, but I enjoy yours more,” you tell him with a warm smile.

You see him opening his mouth, ready to say something, make it better or worse, but instead he pushes his lips against yours as he grabs the back of your head and pulls you towards him. You gasp, but quickly lean into the kiss that is much more passionate than before. His words still echo inside your head despite the static trying to push them away and you wonder what if...

He never actually said it, you realize, if he wanted you to break up with your boyfriend, and even though you've seen the signs, you can't be sure. And quite frankly, you are a little apprehensive about making rash decisions while you're still battling your frustrations and basking in the sensations another boy has invoked in you and it wouldn't be fair to -- When you feel Sebastian's tongue pressing against yours demandingly, you focus back on the kiss and for a moment you truly forget about everything.

Your fingers dig into his hair, another thing you've always wanted to do, and you even start grinding your pelvis against him as you kiss him breathlessly. He groans quietly against you, the sound so low and deep it immediately causes a reaction deep within your gut. You grip his hair and wrestle his tongue hungrily, your heart pounding inside your chest. His hands are on your hips, just holding you, but his grip is tight and almost possessive, definitely bruising your skin.

With the last of your willpower (or the urge to breathe) you lean back then and watch him out of half-lidded eyes. “Do you... still want to stick your cock into me?” you ask, blushing from your own whispered words, but also no longer caring about etiquette. He's certainly had a bad influence on you.

Yet he seems just as surprised as you are and issues a short laugh. “Yes,” he eventually says back, breathlessly and with his eyes sparkling mischievously. You smile at him and scoot back on his lap a little as he pushes a hand between your bodies and fumbles with the buttons of his trousers. Watching him eagerly as he finally frees his arousal, you can't help but stare at it for a moment. “You can touch it if you want,” you hear him whisper with a chuckle.

When you look up into his face, you lick your lips and smirk. “I have a better idea,” you whisper back and shift on his lap once more, grabbing his shoulders to pull yourself as close to him as possible before you start moving your pelvis against him, feeling your wet folds sliding over his length as you grind against him slowly.

He immediately gives you the desired reaction and moans deeply, watching you with his eyebrows raised and his lips parted. “Good... idea...” he mutters breathlessly and grabs your waist to assist you in your movements. Together you move in a slow rhythm and you quickly feel your legs shaking and your core burning in pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you gasp and moan softly, before you close your eyes and lean into the sensation. You feel him gripping you tighter, his noises vibrating through you deliciously, before he suddenly grabs the back of your head and pulls your head towards him. Your mouths collide with a smack and after a desperate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours and breathes heavily against your lips. “You wanted me... to come inside you, right?” he whispers deeply.

You open your eyes and look at him, your vision blurry. “Yes...”

“Then please, take me inside already,” he says with a low chuckle. You watch him closely and realize that you are on top and he even confirms your suspicions. “This is your night, love, move at your own pace. Use me as your plaything,” he adds with a smirk.

You lick your lips and try to ignore his word choice for now. Inhaling deeply, you sit back on your knees and look down at his eagerly waiting cock. It's glistening from your slick and those veins bulge quite aesthetically and when you close your hand carefully around his shaft, you give them a light squeeze that causes another moan to fall from his lips.

With another reassuring look into his dark eyes, you lift yourself up and position his precum coated tip against your entrance. Watching you with heavy breaths, he gently massages your waist. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, not about doing it with him or because you think he might not fit, but because you've never been on top, you've never been in charge like this. He seems to sense your worries and reaches one of his hands up and grabs your face, gently caressing your cheek.

“You can do this,” he whispers and it's the sound of his voice that makes you start moving. “Yes, just lower yourself... slowly...” he comments and you bite your lip as you listen to him, your body doing the rest for you. He groans deeply when you feel his tip slipping past your entrance. “You're so tight...” he mutters, inhaling sharply.

You let out a moan and hold onto his shoulders with both hands after you let go of his cock as it slowly disappears inside you. You feel him moving further and further, deeper and deeper, filling you more and more, and the feeling is so new and foreign to you that you feel a deep shudder rushing through your entire body. A little whimper escapes you when you finally bury all of him inside you, and you are both impressed and terrified at the thought.

Breathing heavier, you settle on top of him, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you try to adjust to his invasion and the sheer length and girth of him. You find him watching you equally breathlessly, his lips trembling slightly and his cheeks redder than you've ever seen them before. You lean in then and try to kiss him, but the motion causes you to move against him and you let out a wince when you feel him pushing so deep he's certainly poking something he probably shouldn't.

He doesn't seem to mind and finishes what you started as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you deeply as you let out another gasp. “Does it hurt?” he whispers into your mouth, but you shake your head.

“No, it's just... so new...” you confess and he grimaces darkly before he kisses you again. “But it feels so good...” you add and kiss the corner of his mouth as he gives you another smirk. “Having you all the way in there...” You inhale deeply and bite your lip. “Feels perfect...”

He moves his fingers into your hair and chuckles. “You just wait till we move together,” he whispers and pulls your mouth closer once more. You kiss him hungrily and wait for him to do what he just said, but he doesn't. When you lean back to look at him, he smiles. “I'm your plaything, use me however you like,” he says again, his voice low and sultry.

You chew on your tingling lips, before you grab his shoulders tighter and start leaning up on your knees, slowly raising your rear, feeling your walls clench around his length as if they don't want to part from it. He leans deeper into the couch and watches you, his hands letting go of you to rest on the back of the lumpy furniture piece. He truly lets you do all the work.

And you give your best as you keep moving up, before you move back down with a smack, coaxing a cry and a gasp out of your own throat and a deep moan out of him when he plunges back into you all the way. “Careful,” you hear him whisper with a smirk. “Ease into it,” he tells you and you nod, repeating the motion but a little more deliberate as you move back down on him.

Slowly you find your rhythm and he even starts assisting you as he puts his hands on your waist after all and guides you up and down. Your breaths are shallow and you feel your legs shaking under the exertion, but you keep going, your eyes on his face the entire time. His gaze is just as dark as yours. “Tell me... how it feels,” you whisper in between issuing moan after moan.

He exhales loudly through his nose as he smiles darkly at you. “Amazing,” he groans quietly. “You're so warm and tight... and how deep you can take me feels incredible...” His voice helps you in moving slightly faster now as you feel your insides tightening around him greedily. “Oh yes, you move those hips, love,” he breathes. “Just like that... you really are a natural...”

You bite your lip and move your hand to grab the back of his neck as you place your other hand on his chest, riding him faster and harder with every rapid heartbeat. The slapping of skin against skin and the squeaking of the old couch echo in your ears and fuel your desire to do anything to get that extra bit of friction, that extra scratch you need so badly as you grind your hips, feeling him stretching your walls and moving against those sweet spots. You moan louder and for once you don't care who can hear you.

All you care about is your pleasure and it feels so good and refreshing to have someone allow you to chase it. Even though he seems to really struggle beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully as he grunts and groans while you moan and whimper. “Are... are you... close?” you ask, your voice strained and shaking from your continuous motions as you move your entire body against him.

He lets out a deeper grunt and you see him squeeze his eyes shut. “You... first...” is all he utters. You lean closer then, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press your chest against his. Your lips brush over his as you start moving your rear up and down as fast as you can, really leaning into it, and you hear him groan louder and faster as he too wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

You almost lose it right there and then when he starts pushing his hips upwards against you, mirroring your movements and doubling the sensation. Moaning right into his ear as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, you feel your walls clenching more and more despite the rapid movement of his cock sliding in and out of you as he fucks you open relentlessly. Your whimpers grow louder and you cling onto him as if your life depended on it.

“Please,” you hear him whisper hoarsely. “Come for me...”

You move faster, the heat almost unbearable now, and as you hold onto him and he holds onto you, you feel your muscles contracting, your insides convulsing, that sweet tension building and building, and when it finally burst into an explosion of tiny little lights, you cry out loudly, arching your back and sinking your fingernails into his shirt, gasping for air, before you collapse against him, breathlessly and spent, your limbs twitching and your heart ready to jump out of your chest.

Yet he keeps moving his hips against you even faster, the sound of your bodies connecting an obscenely wet one, the couch creaks beneath you, and his groans become louder and louder, until he shudders against you, his arms tightening around you to the point where you can barely breathe, and when he pushes your body hard onto his lap, burying his entire length as deeply as possible, he grunts and stills his movements, and you feel him twitching inside you, before something warm and wet fills you up as he mindlessly pumps his load into you.

You whimper softly as you lean against him, completely exhausted and yet so satisfied like you have never felt before. For a moment, none of you move, it's only the last tremors of your orgasms causing your limbs to twitch occasionally, before you hear him breathing heavily into your neck as he pushes his lips against your damp skin and kisses it lazily. “You're amazing...” he hums and you shudder deeply at the sound and sensation. “That was... amazing...”

You move your shaking fingers into his hair and gently caress his scalp, your breaths still shallow but not as frantic any more. “You... too...” you whisper quietly. “Thank you...”

He chuckles softly at that, his voice hoarse and strained as he speaks. “No, thank you. It really is the best feeling, you know?” He shifts beneath you and you gasp softly as he pushes his hips upwards once more. “Can you feel it? How warm and cosy it feels?” You nod your head, hoping he'll notice it. “I almost want to stay like that forever,” he continues quietly, his breath ghosting your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple over your heated skin. “You're the perfect fit...”

You breathe against him, fighting the thoughts pushing through your cloudy mind. Before you can help it, you feel a tear dropping from your lashes and a sob falling from your lips.

“Are you alright?” he asks immediately, loosening his grip on your body, but you keep clinging onto him, not wanting to face him right now. “Does it hurt? Shall I pull out?”

“No,” you say firmly. “I'm okay, don't move...” You feel him rubbing your back soothingly, his touch warm and comforting, and yet it causes more tears to roll down your cheeks. “I wish we --”

Suddenly he presses his lips against your ear, his breath hot on your skin and his voice vibrating through your head so intensely, it stops any ongoing thoughts instantly. “Please break up with him,” he whispers.

It's these words and his low voice and the need behind it that makes you lean back eventually. Ignoring the slight jab of pain as you shift on top of him, you look at him and his face is as flushed as yours feels. His eyes are dark, yet pleading, his lips parted and trembling. You reach out a hand to caress his cheek and push a wild strand of his messy hair out of his forehead, before you lean in and gently press your lips to his.

You'd be a fool if you'd ignore his request now. It wasn't just the amazing sex and all those moments before, it was the promise behind his words to treat you like this for as long as you'd let him. And how could you ever say no to those puppy-dog eyes? You chuckle at the thought and lean back, meeting his puzzled gaze. “I will,” you then tell him, as simple as that, and his reaction couldn't warm your heart more.

The smile spreads over his entire face, making those dimples pop and his eyes sparkle, and then he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulls you against him once more and kisses the side of your face with a happy chuckle. You laugh against him, relishing the warmth that courses through your entire body. And you know from that moment forwards that you need him to come inside you every blasted time.

Because it truly is the best feeling.

End notes: Breeding kink activated! He's converted another one!

And speaking of kink: that voice kink, right? Confession time: I cannot stop listening to Sebastian saying "forgotten", the way he pronounces that word is just *chef's kiss* to me! (I have it bookmarked, see link above... And even though it's the scene where he's angry with us, I cannot help but melt away at the sound of it XD)

On another note: With Kinktober over, what are we calling November? Because uh, no, I will not participate in No-Nut-November, excuse me? Our boy can't handle that! So Smutvember? Lovember?

While I wrote this I was imagining who that useless but sweet boyfriend would be - and while I have some ideas, I'd like to hear yours! Who do you think would be a great guy to talk to, but would be utterly useless in bed?

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

[chouxsardine]

Amabo Te---Jake Kiszka x reader

Summary: When jealousy and insecurity get the best of you, when he wants to teach you a lesson. Will you give him a chance?

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 5002

Warnings: 18+! Minors DNI, established BDSM relationship, dom!jake/sub!reader, brat! reader, the infamous Jake snap, caning, alcohol, language, jealousy, insecurity, self-esteem issue, self-deprecation, unprotected p in v sex, crying, a mix of soft and mean Jake (?), nerdy Latin sh*t,

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort (with fluffy ending?)

Author's note: Sorry for the wait! inspired by this idea from @hearts-hunger. I've been wanting to write about this since the first day I've seen it, so I kind of took the idea and run with it. It turns out a lot softer than I expected (oops). A new attempt for me to toy around with power dynamics. Every single one of you is deserving of love. I love you a lot. Enjoy!

🎧: How Many More Times by Led Zeppelin; Sorceress by Jess Williamson; When Anger Turns to Honey by Chelsea Wolfe; Hey Now (When I Give You All My Lovin')" by Romare

You know damn well what you’re doing. The thumping of the drum aligns with your heartbeat, melting into your veins along with the few martinis that you’ve downed consecutively. The air is a mix of ostentatious colognes, sweat, and smoke that wafts off dancing and heaving bodies. The floors feel sticky under your feet, and the label of the dress you are wearing has irritated you all night. You can feel it digging into your sides, the two almost invisible row of plastic nubs cutting into your skin with each exhale and rubbing against it with every movement. Isn’t it amazing that such a trivial and hidden matters can make such a fuss? You know damn well what you’re going to do—bratting to get Jake’s attention—but you don’t know why you’re doing it. At this point, the anxiety and the alcohol in your system have managed to form itself into a vicious ouroboros, and you can’t tell which one is the cause.

Have you and Jake been spending less time together recently because he was busy? Yes. Have you been honest when Jake asked if you want to go to this party with him? No. You have also had a rough week, and you just want to cuddle with him on the sofa, watching some silly rom com while languidly poking at a bowl of Mac and cheese with generous amount ketchup squirted on top. However, you are afraid to say no because you don’t want him to think that you are a spoiled and needy brat. Welp, you guess this is where lying about your feelings leads to: uncomfortably standing in a night club, being a brat in another way. In the back of your mind, you know that if you’d only be honest and tell the truth, Jake will get you out of here in a heartbeat with no judgement. But the alcohol is messing with you, and it doesn’t help that a girl has been hitting on Jake this whole time.

She was also wearing a tight minidress—a searing red one with spaghetti strap, hugging her body in all the right places while also showing it off just enough skin to leave space for imagination—one that makes the one on your body eclipse. She puts her elbows on the bar counter while leaning purposefully so that all it takes is one careless movement while reaching for one’s drink to touch her breasts. Jake wasn’t paying attention to her, or at least not now, not yet. You feel jealousy shoot up your veins. Having left Jake’s side when he met an old acquittance and their conversation was getting too long , then being blocked by the crowd rushing into the dance floor when you plan to stride back, you are now standing on the other side of the room, anxiously tapping your feet, waiting for the hideous song to end.

You take another sip of your drink, and as you raised your eyelids, you saw the girl getting off the bar stool. She should’ve known better than standing up holding a full shot glass in her hands or perhaps she shouldn’t have done that silly little hop trying to impress. Of course, her heels got hung on the footrest a second too long, and she fell forward, throwing herself on Jake. He caught her, his hand on her shoulder to restore her balance. His action was neat and brief, his complexion barely changes. It is clear as day a spontaneous and innocent response, but for you, that’s the last straw.

You didn’t even care continue watching for their further exchange—or whether there was one. You down your drink and slam the empty glass on the counter a bit too harsh before stepping onto the dance floor. You make eye contact with the nearest guy. “Would you like to dance?” The music is loud and it is dark. You lean in closer and ask again when he doesn’t hear you.

Now you are sure that Jake has seen it. When he catches your eyes, a pang of guilt and shame zips through you, you feel like a child being caught red-handedly cheating on a test. You know what you are doing is wrong and petty, you are doing it to get his attention. But in the heat of the moment, with your emotions tangled up, jealousy gets the best of you. You try to look away, and that’s when you see the snap.

It is something that he has conditioned into you. Whenever you’re acting up in public, Jake’s snap is his warning to you. And when it’s quiet around, it’s a gentle but firm squeeze a little above your knee under the table. You got three strikes, but you usually get back in hand just with his warning glance or him simply raising his hands a little.

Jake was leaning back against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter. It is a quick snap between his fingers with a flick of his wrist. There was no way that you would hear it above the music, but in your brain, it rolls loud like thunder.

Out of the reflexive response, your body acts before your mind catches up. You freeze for a second, and you feel a phantom touch like a subtle current rolling over the area above your knee. You try your best to feign your indifference, peeling your glance away. He started it, you lie to yourself.

As the song comes to an end, the guy you were dancing with asks to buy you a drink. You accept and follow him to the bar. Before you even sot down, you feel Jake coming over and standing behind you. His hand is on your waist. A gentle squeeze. Subtle but possessive.

“Hey, what—” The poor guy is confused.

“Would you please excuse us?” Jake’s voice is calm and smooth. You don’t have to turn back to know that he is smiling politely. The kind of smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

The man cocks his eyebrows. You don’t dare to read his expression. “I’m sorry, I have to go.” Before he can respond, you turn on your heels and let Jake lead you out of the bar. Jake isn’t even gripping hard on you, but by now, every nerve in your body has learned to be attentive and obedient to his touch. It is only when the cold air outside hits you that you try to break away from him.

You knew you have gone to the point of no return. You have achieved nothing with your childish act, and to continue a tantrum is your only way to save face.

“Let—”

“Shut it,” Jake cuts you off, rage boiling behind those two words.

“I’ve got three strikes! That was only one!” You retort.

Jake narrows his eyes. “Then consider this your strike two.”

“Fuck you!” You blurt out, instantly regretting as the words left you lips. You see a moment of confusion and incredulous flash through Jake’s eyes before anger takes over. He lets out a dry laugh. You shiver.

“That’s it.” Jake releases your hand, taking off his jacket, flings it over your shoulder with a push at the small of your back. He walks the two of you to where the car was parked. He still opens the door for you and puts his hand up to protect you from hitting your head before circling to his side.

In the few seconds of silence between your side of the car door closing and his side of the car door opening, you sag like a bounce house with a puncture, all the furiousness has left your body, replaced by the bone-deep regret and exhaustion. You want to go back to a few hours ago, where you would say, “I don’t feel like going out tonight. Can we stay in and watch a movie?”, where you would say, “I don’t want to be here anymore. Can we go home?”, where you would straight up look into his eyes and tell him, “I miss you so much, I just want to spend time with you, alone.”

The broody silence stretches through the whole way home. You almost hop he would just leave you in the car. You feel ashamed when he yanks your side of the door open with his hand up on the frame.

Once you are in the house, Jake walks directly to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and pouring himself a glass. He stands in front of the French window, his thumb hooked in his belt, the left side of his jacket riding up.

There is no sign of the rage you expected. You are still wearing his jacket, your fingers curled up in the leather. The shame that was burning inside you clashes with the icy feeling down your spine.

You expect him to push you against the wall, or spit out “strip”, or at least a “go upstairs”. You know that you will drop down on your knees the second the first syllable of any those words parts his lips. Or something through his eyes, a silent scowl, a stern look. Even when Jake is silent, his eyes always convey something—-or at least you can always read something from them.

But he is not even looking at you now.

Please don’t ignore me.

“The silent treatment now, really?” It can’t be any clearer that you are fighting a lost battle. Your voice bounces off the silence and stabs you like a boomerang.

Jake finally turns around. He lowers his head and smirks. The next words he says make you icy cold. It’s like you are standing on a frozen lake and have misjudged the thickness of the ice beneath you feet; with a misstep, it cracks, and you fall into the piercing cold water.

“Do you think you deserve ‘treatment’,” he accentuates the word, “of any kind, my dear?”

The nickname is stripped off all its concomitant affection, only adding to the insult with biting irony. You’d rather he didn’t use it at all. The tears threaten to spill. You clench your fist.

“That’s your way of talking, huh?” Jake paces towards you, each step slow and steady like a confident predator cornering his prey, “some yaps and some whines, but my little brat just loves running her mouth.”

Brat. That word punches you like a left hook. A brat. That’s exactly what you have been tonight.

You know for sure you are finally going to submit, and once you reached that stage, it’s going to be pure bliss; it will be the closest you’ll ever felt to him. And that’s all you want, to be close to him. Sure, a beeline from point A to point B is straight and clear, but where’s the fun in that? Being a brat feels like an elongated foreplay. Just as you are ashamed of the amount of swearwords and moans you let out when being edged, you can’t deny that you love it. Love it so much that you are doing it to yourself. You wanted it so much, but you refuse to accept it without some struggle. You feel unworthy when things land on your lap easily. The emotions you will experience after winning the lottery probably would be fear and suspicion, as you contemplate “now that I’m hit on the head with pennies from heaven, what will I lose in exchange? You are plagued by the fairy tale in which the king is ravished with joy when he finds a precious jewel but then proceeds to lose his beloved once as the backfire. After all, life never gives anything for nothing, a price is always exacted for what fate bestows.* You believe the same goes for love. Jake came into your life so suddenly, sweeping in like a whirlwind, with such velocity and intensity that you are afraid one day he will exit like one, leaving your heart in the ruins. You have to earn his love, you will be his good girl.

“Have I been ignoring my princess? Attention, is that what you want? Jealousy, is that what got into you tonight, um?” His finger grips your chin.

You both love and detest how Jake has always been able to strip you bare with such ease, your body and your desire. To see through the “yes” behind the “no” when your pride and stubbornness get the best of you, and the “no” behind the “yes” when you overexert yourself and try to please while ignoring your limits. It does takes quite some effort to reach this almost telepathic stage, a bumpy trail full of frustration and trial and errors, but it’s worth the effort. When the voice inside your head gets loud and your body is aching with unsoothable desire, the wrong punishment will immediately send you crying in a non sexy way.

You have no choice but to look into his eyes. One simple stare from him dissects your thought like a scalpel. With one clean, cold cut, he slices you open. Exposed, vulnerable.

You are already playing a dangerous game, walking the tight rope, teetering on the edge. Now, you are pulled off balance by his eyes drilling into you, demanding complete honesty and obedience.

“Please.” You mumble, lowering your eyes.

“Please, what?” He tilts your chin right up.

Your voice is meek, barely audible, but legible enough for Jake. “Please punish me, Sir.”

He lets go of you. Immediately you miss his touch.

“Upstairs. You know what to do.”

You are on autopilot as you remove your clothing, leaving them in a pile on the floor and nudging them into the closet with your feet. Out of sight. The sequins on your dress shine like a flamboyant humiliation.

It can’t be more than five minutes until Jake comes into the room, but every single second feels like purgatory to you. You let out a long sigh of relief as you heard his footsteps. You hear him shuffle behind you, and then the sound of him rummaging through the drawer, collecting the things he needs. Finally, you see his feet in your lowered sight as he steps in front of you. You keep your head down, knowing better than looking up to see what he has in his hands. But you can’t escape the shadow that was projected onto the floor. Something long and thin.

“Please don’t tie me up.” You blurt out before immediately biting down on your lip.

“I’m afraid you’re not in the position to bargain, dear, ” He’s right. “This is a punishment; it’s not supposed to be what you want. You take. Is that understood?” His voice looms over your bare skin, giving you goosebumps.

“Yes, Sir.”

Then something hard touches your thigh. You look down and see the end of a cane. The cane. A blessing and a curse. It isn’t very often that Jake uses a cane on you. To you, it hurts more than a paddle but turns you on more as well. The cane draws a wiggly line down your legs, stopping at that area above your knee with three taps. Your kneeling frame perches up in response, your body instantly connecting the touch with Jake’s warning squeeze.

Then, a clear and crisp snap break through the quiet room. Your head shots up spontaneously and you crash into Jake’s eyes. His dominance is dialed up to the fullest from this angle. His long eyelashes cast shadows under the eyes, deepening his brown pupils. His lips are lightly parted, his eyebrows relaxed. He looks appreciative, like admiring an art piece of his own creation.

“Ah, so you do remember.” He makes a statement, but it sounds like a reprimand in your ears.

“I…”

“You will have plenty of chance to speak tonight, but not now.” Honestly, you are secretly glad that he stops you because you don’t trust your voice not to break. The apology lodges and throbs in your throat.

“We put a lot of time and effort into our warnings. It doesn’t come easy, I think you know that,” Jake continues, “you chose, deliberately, to ignore and violate them tonight. So I’m sure you have good reasons to do so.”

The cane nudges the inner side of your thigh, signalling you to stand up. And then a goad with the tip on the back of your sacrum, making you topple forward, with your hands gripping on the end of the mattress.

The whoosh sound of the cane as it comes down startles you even more than the stinging, closely followed by Jake’s gruff demand: “Enlighten me. Why?”

The delayed pain is now blooming over your skin. Why? All the previous shame resurfaces, forcing you to recall every detail. You drag your teeth over your bottom lip.

The next hit comes down harder, moving up slightly from where the last one lands.

Still silence. You close your eyes tightly, tears burning behind your eyelids. You want nothing more than being honest with Jake, but somehow you just can’t squeeze the words out of you. Thinking back now, it is so not worthy to act up something so trivial. Everything would have been fine if you just be honest right from the start, if you communicate your feelings directly. But why can’t you?

Whack.

The next one hits an inch to the left. The cane is worse because it gathers the sensations. If the paddle feels like putting your hands into a basin of hot water, the cane feels like splashes of hot oil. Obviously, you are still an independent grown-up with full control of your body autonomy, but at the moment, you so desperately need to transfer that control. Even if it’s temporary, so that your brain would stop lying to you. And Jake is demanding exactly that.

Why? Why can’t you be honest with him? Time has proved that this man has been nothing but respectful, understanding, and non-judgemental. What are you afraid of? What more can you ask for?

Whack.

“What’s your color?”

“G..green, Sir.”

You press your lips together hard. An involuntary tear escaping from the corner of your eyes. Your brain is determined to play a tug of war with the help of your stubbornness, but your body revolts. The pain is numbing your volition.

Whack.

Now that you’ve known each strike is calculated. Jake never hits the same place. They are always placed from each other with some space so that the pain spreads and connects like drops of paint on paper, spreading into a watercolour in different shades of pink. Your muscle contract. You are absurdly wet; it feels almost purely physiological, even though you know the agony is only a calling. Deep down there’s the yearning— craving to be touched, to be soothed and caressed. But are you worth it?

Whack.

“I am an ungrateful, attention-seeking brat.” You cry, your forehead dropping down on your laced fingers.

Jake is grateful that you can’t see his expression. And maybe that’s a good thing for you too. Because if you see the heartache in his eyes, your pretense of strength will fall apart in an instant. It rips his heart to hear you degrading yourself. It tortures him when you can’t see how worthy, beautiful, and precious you are the way he does. It hurts him to know that he fails to earn your trust, to earn your complete honesty. He knows your body; he has learned your threshold of pain and pleasure, and has the skill of a pharmacist when it comes to mixing the two to give you euphoria. However, he is an unarmed man facing the voices inside your head, he is clueless standing in front of the thorny-hedged gate of your heart. And it confounds him too when sometimes hurting you is the only way he can show you love. If you would only let me, princess, if you would only let me love you.

This time, there is only a gentle tap on the fleshiest part of your butt.

“Nice try. That’s not the answer I asked for.” It takes everything in Jake to maintain his domineering facade. Bullshit. You’re a loving, gentle, poetic, sensible soul that just happens to be too good at feeding yourself deprecative lies.

By now, all the fight left in you is a poorly-crafted sandcastle swilled over and over by waves of pain. The good pain. Cathartic. Liberating. Hypnotizing, almost. They converge into the mysterious song of the siren, whispering in your ear: “Stop fighting. Give it up to me.”

The voice sounds warm, assuring, familiar: “Let me in.”

That busts you right open.

“I know there was nothing, I only did it to get your attention.” Once the hardest part was out, you find yourself unable to stop. The box-ed up feelings cascade out of you. “I..I don’t want to be there! I d-didn’t tell you because…I don’t want to look n-needy. You’re too good for me. You’re one of countless good things that have happened to me, w-what if you leave?”

Ugly sobs ripple through your body. Your legs threatening to give out as you shake your head in guilt. Tears burn you blotched skin and gone cold way too quickly, leaving damp trails on your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Jake. I’m sorry.”

Between your whimper, you hear another swoosh of the cane coming down. You tense up subconsciously. There is the sound of the cane hitting flesh, but the anticipated pain never came. Before you could think further, your were pulled up and sat in Jake’s lap. His woodsy musk envelops you as he tucks your head under his chin. Pangs of guilt shoot through your body, hurting way worse than your behind. Slowly but surely, Jake’s warm and strong hands find the nape of your neck, pulling you towards his chest where you bury your face, your shoulder shudders, and you cry. Jake's heart contracts painfully along with each of your sob. He closes his eyes tightly.

“You silly, silly little fool.” He sighs, rocking you back and forth, “it would be so much easier if you just say so from the start. But my little kitten just won’t go down without a fight, will she?” His finger combs through your sweaty strands.

“Is that how you love, little flame?” Jake murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple, “always so fierce, so effusive, like a supernova?”

You keen on that word. You think you’ve never loved a a nickname more. Jake’s steady heartbeat against your chest grounds you and slowly restores all your senses like books being put back onto the shelf after being swept down to the floor in a storm. Slot by slot, mise en place.

Feeling that you’ve calmed down, Jake takes your face in his hands. “Let me show you.” He leaves kisses all over your face, pausing between each one to speak.

“This. Is. How. I. Love.”

He touches his forehead to yours. It is impossible to look away, impossible to feel anything else other than him.

“Allow me to love you.”

The sentence is like a curse, one that undid some wicked spell, one that wilts all the thorns on your heart, one that undid you completely.

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel the butterfly in your stomach. You know it was triggered by the long-caged bird in your heart flexing its wings. Soar. Soar head-on into love. Take the fearless flight and never regret thy fall.

The slightly weird sensation on the left side of your face makes something click in your brain. You hurriedly pull Jake’s hand down and see a swollen mark welt across his left palm.*

That’s where the last hit lands. He takes it for you.

“See? equal.” He holds up his palm.

“Jake…” Your lips quiver. You hold his hand in yours, desperately kissing it. Jake hardly seem to mind at all, using his other hand to wipe away your tears. His eyes infinitely gentle.

“Do not feel guilty, that’s not my point. I am sorry for not letting you trust me enough. I love you, it is my fault to not make it known to you it all the while.* We’re even now, clean slate. Only trust from now on, okay?”

Nothing reassures you more than a clean slate; that means you are not completely fucked up, that means you still have the opportunity to redeem yourself, to do better, and this time you know that you have a better chance because you are not doing it alone, you have Jake by your side, and he has managed to make you believe that he will always be by your side.

You press your lips against his. His tongue dips into your mouth. You roll your hips on his thighs. The need rekindles inside you.

“Tell me what you want, princess. Anything for you.”

“I want you. Jake. Please make love to me.”

With that, he lifts you up and flips you over. You land on the bed, letting out a chuckle as you watch him get rid of his shirt and pants. Your limbs go warm when his body covers yours. The pendant of his necklace drags down your sternum and dipping into your navel as his kisses your breasts. His mouth finds your nipple, his tongue circling around your areola, feeling it grow harder and perk up even more. You let out a squeal, arching your back, your clit meeting his pelvis for a futile relief. You feel him, hard and determined, flush against your entrance. Your muscles tense up, clenching around the emptiness. The silky desire flows down through your veins, gathering downward.

You lie open like a book, allowing his velvet tongue to explore every letter and punctuation. You are completely at his disposal. Jake’s movements are slow and skilled, tentalizing and hypnotic

“Please.”

“Please, what?” He repeats the question with a cheeky grin.

“Please, fuck me already.” The verb sounds so vulgar, yet you’ve never said it with so much love and tenderness. Fuck. You love the plosive in the end. Explosive, fervent, triumphant.

“Please,” Jake mused. His hand snakes between your bodies, his finger plunging into your wetness.

“Do you know,” his fingers curls and scraps, collecting your slickness and stroking them up and down your labia, “how do they say ‘please’ in classical Latin?”

“Poetic nerd.” You quipped, followed by a vindictive press of his finger against your tissue that makes you mewl.

“Amabo te.” He whispers as he holds his cock in his hand, his tip tapping on your entrance along with each syllable, each of them dripping onto your skin like honey. Knock, knock.

“Amabo te.” You mindlessly repeat after him. The sound is magical and mesmerizing, rumbling off your tongue with such gracefulness.

“And it just happens to also literally mean,” he pushes his hip forward, making every inch pronounced. The double suspense makes your breath hitch.

“I will love you.”

He bottoms out in one long, silky thrust. Every sensory system in your body fires up. Air is whipped out of your lungs and restored by his kiss. Your hands map his back, hugging him tighter, nailing him into you even deeper. Jake only pulls back slightly before pumping right back, cherishing the silky heat of yours as if there’s no tomorrow. His sharp pants fall all over your neck and your collarbone. The pleasure is building up at a scary pace.

Jake’s face is so close to yours, you see yourself in his eyes, fused with nothing but bliss and desire that danced through his blown-out pupils. At this moment, you are love. The realization sends a tremor through you. For the first time tonight, your body and brain and in sync. No more fighting.

“Can feel you, love,” Jake grunts, the vein visible on his sweat-coated forehead. You buck up your hips, spurring him on.

“Take me with you.”

For a few heartbeats, the world went silent. Never has an orgasm felt so good. Zings of fire sparkles and spreads. Your mouth hangs open; the pleasure robbed your voice, pinning you down as a time stamp. You are preserved in the moment like a butterfly specimen. It makes you want to exist like that forever.

Your leg jerks, urging him to stay as he rolls off you. In your peripheral vision, you saw you were still holding hands, his fingers laced and lodged with yours like a promise.

Jake’s lips graze your ears, a strand of his curls falls across your lips. His voice is raspy and low, with an easily detected tenderness. “Did I do it? Will you let me love you?”

You know it takes a lot of energy out of him as well. And now, a faint trance of postpositive guilt and the languid afterglow mixed with the subspace are catching up with you. Every inch of you is uncurled and loosened, but in the back of your mind still remains some sanity the size of a laundry basket where you have a heart to be strong, be strong for him; he takes such good care of you. You pull Jake’s welted palm against your bare chest, close to your heart. You squeeze his hand, followed with three gentle pats on its back. Just like the way he tells you that you are safe and he’s not leaving when you are blindfolded and tied up.

You know you will talk more about it in the morning over plates of French toast or blueberry pancakes, but for now, everything is good…..and that conversation doesn’t sound scary to you at all. You know that the man lying next to you will dote on you with nothing but pure love and acceptance. And that doesn’t sound half bad at all.

-----------------------------------------------------------

*1: adapted from Stefan Zweig, Marie Antoinette: The Portrait of an Average Woman

*2: inspired by Three-Line Whip: A First Time Maledom BDSM Novella by James Hardcourt

*3: adapted from The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

---------------------------------

Yay! you made it! Thank you SO MUCH for reading :))

any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated.

my other works: Permission to Fall || Mariner's Complex || Ticked (all my boxes) || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones || Coming back to me || Warm Honey || He Would || Hold Me (1) (2) || blurb: Chin Tattoo, Ribbon Bow 🎀, post-show

[mrsriddles-blog]

Get Him Back | D.M

Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Ex-Draco Malfoy X Theodore Nott

WC: 4k+

Warnings/Notes: Bullying, mild language, heartbreak, angst…

Summary: In which, you and Draco ended on a bad note and you’ve decided to seek out revenge…but unexpectedly you fall in love.

Authors Notes: Honestly, not my best piece… :/ I know I could’ve done better, but I kinda just went with it on this. Theodore was unplanned lol

One, two, three

Wait, is the song with the drums?

“Draco, I understand that Miss. Y/n Riddle is quite pretty, but I would like for you to pay attention to my lesson.” Professor McGonagall says.

The class laughs and you refuse to turn around to give Draco that attention after everything you had been through with him. Pansy smiles sadly at you, seeing exactly how much this hurt you.

You knew Draco from around Hogwarts, but you both had gotten together over the summer after getting closer once your families came to know each other. Everything was perfect in the beginning, but it all came crashing down eventually.

Draco is quite good at hiding his true colors, especially at the beginning of a relationship. You learned that he hid those true colors for so long in hopes it would be harder for you to leave…that you would learn to deal with it like it was normal.

You’ve told Pansy that somewhere in his delusional mind that he must’ve forgotten you're a Riddle and you don’t put up with anyones bullshit. You don’t tolerate anyone's disrespect though…maybe a bad trait you picked up from your father, but it’s okay.

Draco was a sweet guy, but then it turned out he had a big ego and he was a narcissistic liar. He was the most fun guy you knew and he had weird friends like Crabbe and Goyle. They were funny too. He used his name and money to get you both into the coolest parties, nights that you felt like would never end.

But, then he started to show more of his true colors. He learned when he began to say things wrong or his lies somehow got twisted back on himself, that he could just take you to a place you dreamed of or to buy you a “sentimental” gift. You found yourself missing him on nights you felt really sad or alone, but your feelings for him were up and down. You knew you wanted to get him back for what he did to you. You want him to hurt the way he hurt you.

I met a guy in the summer and I left him in the spring

He argued with me about everything

He had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye

He said he’s six-foot-two, and I’m like, “Dude, nice try”

But he was so much fun and he had such weird friends

And he would take us out to parties and the night would never end

Another song, another club, another bar, another dance

And when he said something wrong, he’d just fly me to France

So I miss him some nights when I’m feeling depressed

‘Til I remember every time he made a pass on my friend

Do I love him? Do I hate him? I guess it’s up and down

If I had to choose, I would say right now

Pansy was dressed as an angel for the Halloween party and you were dressed as a devil. You wore a tight black mini-dress, and Pansy wore a tight white mini-dress. She had angel wings and a halo while you had devil horns and a tail. She wore white heels while you wore black. You stood in the corner with Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Enzo and Blaise as you watched Pansy go get you both drinks.

She was on her way back when Draco approached her. You watch his flirty smile as he trails his hand up her arm to her face. You watch as that flirty smile dropped and his face twisted to one of pain as he crouched down to grab himself. You smirk as Pansy strides to you and hands you a green solo cup.

“Can you believe him? He just tried to make a pass on me? After the shit he did to you, he thought he had a chance with your bestie? He truly is a delusional fuck.” She snorts.

“He did that a lot when we were dating. He always had a wandering eye…I just thought I was being over-sensitive or something.” You say, glancing over at Draco who was now sulking at the bar.

“Hey, don’t let that dumb fuck make you sad. He is nothing to you.” She says sternly.

You smile, unconvinced as you down the drink in your cup. Mattheo and Tom watch with frowns, knowing very well you weren’t over Draco. They looked at each other before making their way over to the bar. You and Pansy moved out to the dance floor, dancing as Enzo and Theodore kept watch over you both.

You both stopped dancing like everyone else as you heard a commotion. You follow the shouting and see your brothers beating the fuck out of Draco. You push through the crowd, trying to diffuse the fight when Theodore wraps an arm around your waist.

“He deserves it fiore, just let it go.” He murmurs in your ear.

“But, if we don’t break this up…Tom and Mattheo could potentially get caught. If Snape hears this, he will be so mad. If they get in trouble and our dad finds out…they’ll get in so much trouble.” You say.

“Trust me, they won’t get in trouble. Your father has requested this to happen.” He murmurs.

You were at a loss for words as Mattheo and Tom stepped back, leaving Draco on the floor. He barely lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours before Mattheo throws another punch at his face, cursing him for even daring to look at you. You struggle against Theodore, but you manage to reach forward and put a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder.

“Matty, please.” You plead.

“This fucker deserves this and more for everything he did to you.” He snaps.

You flinch, not use to that tone from Mattheo. Growing up with the father you had, you three were always together. Granted, you three had a strange bond for being triplets, but your brothers had shown you a side they never showed anyone. Mattheo tensed as Tom sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he glares at Mattheo.

You take your hand off his shoulder, pulling away from Theodore before storming through the crowd before hearing a random girl laugh about you being sensitive. You turn, throwing a punch at her nose, hearing the satisfying crack as she falls backwards, unconscious.

You turn, continuing your trek to your dorm where you slam the door, locking it before lying on your bed. You grab the jumper that was Draco’s. You had stolen it from him, it was his favorite. You throw it in the fireplace, watching it burn with a sick satisfaction growing in the pit of your stomach.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenge

And I want him again

I want to get him back, back, back

“You can’t ignore me forever.” Mattheo sighs as he follows you to the Great Hall.

“She can, and she probably will.” Tom says, following as well, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“She is ignoring you too dipshit.” He snaps.

Draco walks up to you, glancing at your brothers fearfully and you tilt your head at him, a small smirk on your face.

“Y/n/n, can we talk?” He asks.

“No.” You say.

“I want…I want to apologize…I messed up, royally and I just…I really miss you.” He says.

“Hey, fiore.” Theodore says, coming up beside you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, leaning down to kiss your head. You look up at him and smile. He smiled back, your brothers gaping at you both from behind you guys.

“You’ve…moved on with the guy I was worried about you cheating on me with?” He asks in disbelief.

“Malfoy…if I were you, I’d get out of my fucking face. If you truly knew Y/n, you would know you wouldn’t have to worry about her cheating. When she gives you the chance to love her as she does you, you take that fucking chance and hold onto it fucking tight.” Theodore says, splaying a hand on your back and stomach as he angles himself between you and Draco.

Draco scoffs, looking you over once before storming out of the Great Hall. You look up at Theodore and smile.

“Couldn’t have had better timing.” You say and he grins.

“Oh, I know.” He says.

“Um, excuse me. When the fuck did this happen?” Mattheo asks, stepping between you two, Theodore’s hands leaving you.

“We are fake dating in order to get Draco back. I wanted revenge and I decided to hit him where it hurts.” You explain.

“Fake dating…right.” He murmurs, looking at Theodore.

“Come on, fiore.” Theodore says, walking you to the table.

“Awww, I broke my streak of ignoring them.” You grumble.

“I think you ignored them long enough, fiore. They’ve apologized more than I’ve witnessed them fight…and they fight a lot.” He says, chuckling as your brothers take a seat at the table.

“So, what are the rules for this…fake dating?” Mattheo asks.

“No falling in love.” You say, picking at your plate of food.

“Like that ever works.” Mattheo mumbles, Tom the only one able to hear him.

Theodore wraps his arm around your waist, looking over at you for a moment. You glance down the table to see Draco glaring at Theodore. You felt a tinge of pride before you felt guilty for the fake-dating thing with Theodore. You knew he always had feelings for you, but you hoped that he’d get over it. But, by how easily he agreed to this plan of yours…you were pretty sure there were some underlying feelings there still.

So I write him all these letters and I throw them in the trash

‘Cause I miss the way he kisses me and the way he made me laugh

Yeah, I pour my little heart out, but as I’m hitting “Send”

I picture all the faces of my disappointed friends

Because everyone knew all of the shit that he’d do

He said I was the only girl but that just wasn’t the truth

And when I told him how he hurt me, he’d tell me I was trippin’

But I am my father’s daughter, so maybe I could fix him

“Theodore, are you ready?” You groan impatiently.

“Almost, fiore.” He calls from the bathroom.

You walk over to the mirror in his dorm, smoothing out the skin-tight dark green dress. You fix your hair, before looking yourself over in the mirror once more. You nod just as Theodore walks out. You look over to see him dressed in black dress pants, a white button up shirt that wasn’t buttoned all the way. Some of his sculpted chest was on show. His hair was a fluffy mess as usual.

“You look beautiful, fiore.” He murmurs.

Your cheeks flush red, smiling shyly at him as you nod. He chuckles, one that went straight to your core. You guys walk out and decide to immediately go to dance. As you're dancing, his eyes flicker over your shoulder as they harden.

He pulls you closer to him, his hand wandering down your ass and grabbing it roughly. You gasp, looking up at him to see him look down at you. He leans down and kisses you, one that is deep and passionate. Your hands get lost in his hair and you realize that somewhere along the way, you broke the number one rule: don't fall in love.

Somewhere along the way, you fell for his tender love and care. Not to mention how sweet and gentle he was with you. He treated you as if you were royalty and it was sweet. You found yourself loving the way he laughs and the way he grabs your ass. You pull back, only to pull him back into a kiss.

“I think I broke our rule.” You whisper against his lips.

“You didn’t say anything about already being in love, so I technically didn’t break it. I just hoped that maybe you’d realized how much you mean to me.” He murmurs.

“I’m sorry, Theo…I should’ve realized sooner.” You admit quietly.

“Don’t apologize. I have you now and that is all that matters. However, I know you've been wanting to get Malfoy back and I don’t blame you.” He says, swaying with you to the sensual song.

“No, no, enough of this getting Malfoy back. Malfoy had his chance. Yes, he fucked up…but I can’t keep letting that hold me back. I’ve been sulking over a relationship that didn’t work out for obvious reasons and all along…I should’ve been with the person who was standing right in front of me.” You mumble.

“We’ll get him back together. But, as an official girlfriend and boyfriend duo. Maybe next time he’ll think before breaking a good girl's heart.” He murmurs.

“Nott, I get that you both are confessing your love right now, but please get your hand off my sister's ass.” Mattheo calls.

Theodore chuckles, looking down at you, squeezing your ass once more before moving his hand back to your hip. Your cheeks flush red as you shake your head in amusement.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again, I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenge

And I want him again

I want to get him back (and then? And then)

I want to get him back, back, back

You were in detention with Theodore, Mattheo, Tom and Draco. Mattheo and Tom got to sit together while you and Theodore got to sit together. Draco was sulking in the front of the room. You and Theodore were cuddled up together, whispering and laughing quietly.

“Okay, I get it. You are all happy, but will tone it the fuck down.” Draco seethes.

“Malfoy, I get it. You are throwing yourself a pity party because you let the best girl in this world slip through your fingers. But, that was your fucking fault. Just because you're pissed doesn’t mean you can take away her happiness. I’ll beat the fuck out of you before letting that happen again.” Theodore warns.

“I’ll help.” Mattheo chirps, grinning at Draco.

“So will I…I’m sure you remember that my methods are a bit more practical…like my fathers.” Tom says, looking at Draco unamused.

“Whatever.” Draco mumbles.

“Let’s get out of here. I have an idea.” You whisper to Theodore.

“Bet.” He murmurs.

You both were quick to leave, laughing quietly as you both snuck back to the Common Room. You grab his hand, dragging him along to the boys dormitories.

“Fiore, where are we going?” Theodore murmurs confused as you both passed his dorm.

“I figured out a way to get Malfoy back. We do it and get back to detention before Snape notices.” You murmur, excitement dancing across your features.

“Take it away, fiore.” He murmurs.

You continue to lead Theodore down the hall until you reach Draco’s dorm. You use a spell, unlocking his door before you both slip in. You see his broom in the corner of the room and grin. You pull the key to your dorm out before you start to completely ruin his broom. Theodore was quietly laughing from where he stood as you continued your handiwork. You stand, the both of you giggling as you both hurry back to detention.

“Where did you lovebirds sneak off to?” Mattheo asks.

“I got hungry.” You say simply.

“And I follow her wherever she goes. I’m simply only allowed a chains length away. She’s got me on a tight leash.” Theodore teases.

“Oh shush, I do not.” You say, your cheeks flushing red.

“Mhm, right.” He teases with his perfect small smile.

I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)

I wanna make him lunch (but then I, I want to get him back)

I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back)

And be the one to stitch it up (but then I, I want to get him back)

Wanna kiss his face (but then I, I want to get him back)

With an uppercut (but then I, I want to get him back)

I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back)

Just to tell her her son sucks (but then I, I want to get him back)

“Who did it?” Draco demands, storming into the Common Room with his destroyed broom.

You look over, fighting the smirk that wanted to appear on your face. Your handiwork looked quite brilliant if you say so for yourself. So, this is what sweet revenge feels like? Theodore continues to rub your legs that were draped across his lap.

“Was it you?” He asks, storming towards you.

Theodore jumps up, standing in front of you as your brothers flank Theodore’s side. You stand up, only for Theodore to push you back on the couch. With one warning look from him, your ass was planted on the couch.

“You don’t get to come in here demanding stuff, Malfoy. Especially from my girl. If you ever come at her like that again, you’ll be in for a rude awakening.” Theodore warns.

“She has literally been striving to ruin my life because she can’t handle a summer fling.” He snaps.

“No, she hasn’t strived to do anything you idiot. You know it wasn’t a summer fling. It was a relationship that you messed up.” Mattheo snaps.

You push past Theodore, ignoring his stern scolding. You look Draco dead in the eye, before taking another step forward.

“If I’ve wanted to ruin your life, trust me, it would be in shambles by now. I’m far more capable and far more cruel than my brothers and father. There is a reason our mother isn’t named and trust me, I’m far too much like her.” You warn.

“Just admit it! This was you! My father will kill me if he finds out my new broom is ruined! You should know better than anyone!” He snaps.

“You're scared of your father? You're scared of what he might do? Well clearly you haven’t met my father.” You laugh coldly, shaking your head.

“Y/n…just admit it. Please.” He pleads.

“Admit to something that I had no hand in? I think you forget that you’ve got far too many enemies on your plate. Keep it up and I will give you something to worry about.” You murmur quietly, so only he could hear you.

He shakes his head, turning and leaving. You turn and look up at Theodore who was looking down at you with a stern look.

“Oh, come on. I handled that very well.” You sigh.

“Maybe. Maybe not. You should’ve stayed behind me and let us handle it. God knows what Malfoy would be willing to do to you.” He says, a frown evident on his face.

“But, I can handle my own problems.” You mumble.

“I know, but I’m here to help you.” He sighs, running a hand over his face.

You plop onto the couch, ignoring him as you felt both guilty and upset. You wanted to let him be happy with helping you, but you also wanted to be able to defend yourself. Theodore sighs, lifting your legs as he sits down next you, putting your legs on his lap.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but I want to be able to protect you. That summer…I could tell how much you loved and cared for Malfoy and he couldn’t even reciprocate that and he strived off hurting you. It hurt me to see you hurting…to see you with him when I wanted to be with you. I wanted to take care of you and to protect you…I wanted to show you what love could really be.” He says.

“I understand that, Theo…I do, but you can’t shield me from the world. There are some battles that are mine to fight. But, I’m not saying I don’t need you there with me. You’re my rock.” You explain.

Oh, I wanna key his car (I want to get him back)

I wanna make him lunch

I wanna break his heart (but then I, I want to get him back)

Stitch it right back up

I wanna kiss his face (I want to get him back)

With an uppercut

I wanna meet his mom (but then I, I want to get him back)

And tell her her son sucks, yeah

“Alright, are we done with this Malfoy revenge thing? Because as far as I know…you’ve made him jealous of you and Theodore…fake dating that led to real dating…ruining his broom…what else?” Mattheo murmurs.

“And there!” You exclaim as his pumpkin juice ends up all over his face and the front of his shirt.

“Is that it?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrug, unsure. You felt like there was one more thing you needed to do to ensure your revenge. You knew it wasn’t the brightest thing to keep doing this to Draco. Some would view that you had done enough. But, you weren’t so sure. Draco hurt you in ways you didn’t think was possible. You always thought of yourself as stronger than that.

“Draco has been talking about you.” Pansy says, taking a seat across from you after pushing Mattheo down the bench.

“Rude.” He grumbles.

“Oh, what has he been saying?” You ask curiously.

“That he misses you…that he feels bad…he might’ve said something about Theo, but I’m not sure if it’s true or not.” She says.

“What did he say about Theo?” You ask.

“That he’s been seeing other girls behind your back.” She mumbles.

“No, no, that’s not true. Theo wouldn’t ever do that.” You say, shaking your head.

“He has a track record.” Pansy mumbles.

You stay quiet, looking down at Draco before grabbing your bag and pulling out a truth potion. You pour it into your cup of pumpkin juice before switching yours and Theodore’s cups.

“Should I be concerned that you just have those on you?” Tom asks.

“It’s for good reason.” You mutter, tucking your bag away as Theodore walks in.

He sits, taking a drink of his pumpkin juice before looking around the table confused as they were all glancing at each other.

“So…my father has asked me to question you…in order for us to protect Y/n/n from getting hurt anymore.” Tom says.

“Ask away.” Theodore says.

“Are you being true to my sister?” He asks.

“Yes.” He murmurs.

“Is Y/n the only girl or do you have other side pieces?” He asks.

“Y/n is the only girl.” He says, his hand grabbing yours under the table.

“Do you love her?” He asks.

“Yes.” He says.

“What are your intentions with her?” He asks.

“To love her…to protect her… to cherish her and give her the world. I want to shield her from anymore hurt. Trust me, I never want to see her hurting again.” He says.

I wanna get him back

I wanna make him really jealous, wanna make him feel bad

Oh, I wanna get him back

‘Cause then again I really miss him, and it makes me real sad

Oh, I want sweet revenege

And I want him again

I want to get him back (and then? And then)

I want to get him back, back, back, back

“My lord, I-I’m sorry.” Draco stutters.

You were being held by Theodore. He had an arm around your waist, keeping you pulled back against him. He had a hand over your mouth so that your father wouldn’t be angry with you for trying to protect Draco. Despite everything Draco did to you, you knew even this was too far.

“You hurt my daughter. Do you know how much she means to me? She means the world to me and no one is allowed to hurt her.” Voldemort snarls.

Except you, you think.

“I’m s-sorry my lord! I’m so sorry! Please, please, I’ll do anything! Just make this stop, my lord! Please!” He pleads.

“You’ll be daunted with extra tasks and knowing that if you don’t finish them, the death of your father and mother before your eyes will be your fault before I kill you myself. Stay away from Y/n or I’ll ruin you myself, Malfoy.” He warns.

He let Draco up who left quickly, not sparing a glance back. Theodore uncovered your mouth before your father could see. He wipes the stray tear off your cheek right before your father turned to you.

“He’ll stay away from you now, princess.” Voldemort murmurs, stepping forward and cupping your cheek.

“T-Thank you father.” You whisper.

“Of course. Now go on.” He murmurs.

I’ll get him, I’ll get him, I’ll get him, I’ll get him back

Get him back, come on, come on

I’m gonna get him so good, he won’t even know what hit him

He’s gonna love me and hate me at the same time

Get him back, girl, you better get him back

I don’t know I got him good, I got him really good

[lipglossanon]

As the Rush Comes

✯´*¨`*•✿✿••✿✿•*`¨*`✯

Sugar daddy!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Hello, I love your stories. Do you think you can make a story sugar daddy Leon x sugar baby reader where the reader has behaved badly and Leon has to teach her a lesson with a section of intense sex with punishments and that? It doesn't matter if it's in the car, a room, at home, wherever you want. Only this idea haunts my mind

Dedicated to anon request above; I hope this lives up to expectations 😘 and thank you for your patience cause you asked a while back!! 🫣 

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, daddy kink (but like daddy dom kinda way 🤭), dom Leon, bratty reader, dirty talk, restraints,  collars, spanking, biting, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex

Not proofread ✌️ 

Title from As the Rush Comes by Motorcycle

✯´*¨`*•✿✿••✿✿•*`¨*`✯

You feel embarrassment as you scroll through the different links setup on the message board. Most people seemed to be pushing a specific site it seems and you bite your lip as you click on the hyperlink, watching the page load. 

It seems pretty straightforward and kinda basic. In just a few minutes, you setup your profile complete with a (hopefully) flattering picture. You’re going to give it a few days and just see where it leads.. it’s not like you’re obligated to reply to anyone or do anything you don’t want to. 

Nodding to yourself, you drop your phone next to you and hide your face in your hands, nerves running rampant. The thought of having a sugar baby profile fills you with anxiety (and just a little excitement).

You fall back on your bed and drum your fingers against your stomach as you gaze up at the ceiling. Feeling a slight vibration at your side from your cell, you pick it up. Eyes quickly reading the notification from the website: ‘LKennedy has sent you (1) message’.

Nervous, you open your phone and read through the short message.

‘Hi, strwaberry_k!ss. I’m starting to get the feeling I should’ve used a screen name and not my actual one.’

You laugh a little to yourself and click on the user’s profile.

“Holy shit,” you mutter out loud.

The profile pic of LKennedy is hot as fuck. It’s only a headshot, but honestly that’s more than enough. Some seriously gorgeous sea dark eyes followed by a chiseled jaw and a full pouty mouth paired with sandy hair meets your roving eyes. This guy messaged you? You feel a rush  of excitement. 

You go back to your messages. Not really knowing what to put, but not wanting to leave the guy on read, you just jot down whatever pops into your head.

‘What can I say? Just trying to be mysterious ;)’

After hitting send, you groan aloud. Smooth, real smooth. Before you can wallow in any more self pity, your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up.

‘I can tell. What brings you to this site?’

You purse your lips in concentration.

‘Curiosity mainly. You?’

‘Boredom.’

You laugh to yourself.

‘I can believe that. You don’t look like you need any help from a website to find attention though ;)’

‘Same could be said about you’

Your belly swoops as you bite your lips trying not to giggle 

‘Well thanks. Tbh I didn’t expect to even talk to anyone on here’

‘And why not?’

‘Idk.. just seems a bit embarrassing haha’

‘A lovely thing like you shouldn’t feel embarrassed’

Your stomach twists with butterflies as you nibble on your lower lip. This could go any number of ways, but you really want to see how far you can get with this ridiculously handsome guy.

‘You think I’m lovely?’

‘Of course. It’s going to sound like a line, but you’re the only one I’ve messaged so far on this site.’

‘Yeah that totally sounds like a line lol’

‘You were just too pretty to pass up, sweetheart’

A hot flush of arousal surges through your body. Drawing in a shaky breath to calm your nerves, you type out a reply. 

‘Oh well that’s flattering.’

‘You’re pretty too’, you quickly follow up. 

Re reading the message, you mentally groan. Should've put hot or handsome, not pretty! Now he’s going to think you’re a total dork!

‘Ha, well thank you. I have to say that’s the first I’ve been called pretty myself.’

You scoff out loud.

‘Uh highly doubt that. You’re seriously hot AF, like a total dilf’ 

You sent it before you could chicken out and delete the last part of your reply.

‘Dilf? That stand for something?’

What!? You panic internally. How does this guy not know what that means? He’s gotta be pulling your leg, right? Right!? You can feel your brain imploding.

‘Uh haha well have you heard of milf?’

‘Sadly, yes.’

‘Kay, well it’s like that but replace the mom with dad...’

There’s radio silence for close to a minute before the text bubble emerged.

‘Ah, now I’m the one who should be flattered. Is that an offer, sweetheart?’

You feel like dying; there’s no way this is really happening to you! You’re going to wake up in the morning and this is all gonna be some weird ass fever dream. 

Sucking up all the courage you have left in your body, your slowly type out a reply.

‘Could be if there’s some interest..’

After hitting send, you close your phone and bury your face in your pillow, to muffle your scream. Your nerves are starting to get the best of you when suddenly your phone goes off, buzzing against your thigh.

‘The name’s Leon. Feel free to contact me here’

You looked down at the notification, dumbfounded, reading the phone number he sends you right after. You seriously got this guy’s number?! Giving yourself a mental high five, you quickly save Leon’s number in your phone. 

Opening up your messages, you shoot him a text saying who you are so he’ll have your number too. Leon texts back quickly. 

‘Hello, sweetheart.’

It seems like no time at all before you guys hit it off and start seeing each other fairly regularly. Leon made it perfectly clear early on that he just wants to take care of someone and doesn’t require anything in return. 

You agree with him until you sweet talk him into visiting your apartment. Then you tease him, rile him up, until he’s railing you seven ways to Sunday, pretty much cementing the fact that you’re more than eager to have some extra benefits with your sugar daddy. 

Today is one of the days you get to spend time with Leon in his penthouse—still blows your mind every time you think about it. You’re excited as always, showing up a few minutes early to let yourself into the suite. 

You hurriedly kick off your shoes and drop your overnight bag down in the foyer. Padding further into Leon’s place, you notice that he hasn’t gotten home yet. You make your way into his bedroom and flop down onto his pristinely made bed. 

You nuzzle your face into the bedspread, sighing as you breathe in Leon’s scent. You wish he’d just keep you here; you know he’d love it, he’s always so stressed and having you here would help him out in more ways that one. 

“Sweetheart, I’m home,” his voice calls out to you. 

“In here!” you yell from the bedroom, listening as you hear his footsteps get closer and closer. 

“Oh, is my pretty baby getting my sheets all messy?” his low voice gives you goosebumps as he joins you on the bed. 

“Mmm yeah, daddy,” you smile up at him. 

“I know a better way to get’em all messy,” he kisses your neck making you sigh and tilt your head. 

“Leon!” you giggle as he noses along your skin to kiss your jaw. 

He places a noisy kiss on your check then pulls himself off of the bed. 

He holds his hand out to you, “C’mon, I got us dinner on the way home.”

You pout as you raise up, “I thought we were going out?”

“I’m too tired, baby,” he pulls you up to your feet and drops a kiss on your head, “let’s just relax at home.”

You try not to show your disappointment; you always love going out to a restaurant with Leon. You love being the one on his arm, watching as other men and women look at you enviously as he pulls out your chair for you or holds the door open. 

You shuffle on sock clad feet into the dining room. Leon has a few take out containers set on the table and you slump down on a seat and pop one open. 

“How was your day?” he asks as he pours you a glass of water. 

You shrug, pushing the food around with a fork, “It was whatever.”

Leon frowns at your tone, but you refuse to look at him. You both eat in silence for a few moments before he clears his throat. 

“Baby, I’m not in the mood today,” he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “we can go out tomorrow, okay?” 

You’re not even mad about not being able to go out, but there’s this itching underneath your skin that you just can’t ignore. It’s making you irritable and as much as you hate taking it out on Leon, it feels like you can’t control it. 

You scrape your fork against your container over and over until Leon’s hand reaches out to grab your wrist. You look over at him to see his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“You’re really pushing it, sweetheart,” his eyes stay laser focused on yours, his grip on your wrist tightening, “I’ve had a stressful day and I just wanted to come home and forget about it with my pretty girl.”

You shrug, “Okay.”

His eyes narrow as he lets go of your wrist, “Go into the bedroom, take off your clothes, and lay face down on the bed.”

Your heart leaps in your chest but you nod and push away from the table. 

“I’ll be in there as soon as I’m finished,” he states, not watching you leave. 

You shed your clothes as you walk to his room, dropping them on the floor knowing it’s just going to make Leon even more angry with you. Your nipples tighten in anticipation. 

Once you finally make it back to Leon’s bedroom, you crawl on top of the mussed sheets and lay out on your stomach. You try to calm your breathing as you wait for Leon. Accidentally drifting asleep, you groggily come to when you feel a pair of warm, calloused hands running along your bare back down to cup your ass.

“Leon,” you sigh, sleepily. 

A loud smack rings out as heat blooms across your skin where Leon spanks your ass. 

Your whole body jumps but Leon ignores it to land another stinging slap to the opposite cheek. He doesn’t let up even as you cry out, spanking your ass over and over again until the skin is nearly hot to the touch. You arch but don’t move away, enjoying how rough he’s being to you. 

“Leon,” you whimper, clit throbbing as your pussy leaks slick down your thighs. 

“My baby just needs to be put in her place,” he soothes his hand down your hip. 

“Uh huh,” you whine, “need it, please, Leon.”

“Sit still, baby,” he presses down on your back as he moves away from the bed, “need to get a few things.”

You shiver, nipples hard against the sheets making you squirm on the bed. A weight dips down next to you and you feel cool silk wrap around your wrists as Leon tugs your arms behind you back. 

“Be good for me, sweetheart, and your punishment won’t be too bad,” he coos at you as he finishes binding your wrists.  

“Want it, Leon,” you sigh, “want daddy to really give it to me.”

“Oh?” he laughs softly, “daddy need to teach that little pussy to behave?”

“Uh huh,” you moan, “please, she needs it so bad.” 

“It sounds like she’s been a naughty little thing,” his fingers slip between your thighs to rub your slick pussy lips, “you say she needs daddy to teach her a lesson?”

“Yes, yes,” you push your hips down, trying to get him to touch you more, “gotta really give it to her tonight.”

He groans, pulling his hand back to spank your ass making you whimper. 

“Daddy’s gonna do a lot of things to you baby, hope you’re ready.”

Your hips rock into the bed as he spanks you hard. Whining, you press your face against his sheets, pussy throbbing with want as he gropes and slaps your ass. 

“Love your ass,” he kneels down behind you, placing a soft kiss on the blood hot skin, “needs spanked more often.”

You cry out as Leon sinks his teeth into your sore ass cheek, sucking and worrying the skin until you kick your feet out. 

His big biceps wrap around your legs to hold you in place. 

“What’d I say?” he hugs your thighs, kissing the skin he bit. 

“T-to behave,” you gasp out, clit pulsing from being forced to stay still.

“Good girl,” he laughs, “daddy’s gonna help you do that. We don’t wanna kick anyone, right?”

“Right, daddy. ‘M sorry.”

“Mmm you’re perfectly fine, baby.  I know you can’t help it, feels good doesn’t it?” he groans, sinking his teeth back into the same spot. 

You whine high in your throat, legs spasming but being forced to stay still making you drip slick all over the bed. 

Leon ignores your sounds and pleas as he sucks bite after bite into your ass cheeks until they’re throbbing in pain. He keeps going back to the same spots to bite deeper and suck harder making you squeal and press yourself against his mouth.    

“Daddy, s’too much,” you drool into the bedspread, body completely limp to the point Leon’s not even holding you down anymore. 

“Nah, I don’t think so,” he chuckles, spanking your ass to watch your body shudder, “look how much your pussy’s crying baby, she’s loving every second of it.”

“Leon!” you whimper as he dips his head down to lick up the slick covering your thighs, tongue teasing across your pussy lips only to pull away. 

“Mm really making me wanna eat her up,” he says more to himself than you but it makes you arch up.

“You want that?” he spreads your thighs even wider, “want daddy to eat your little cunt, baby?”

“Yes yes,” you choke out, “eat my cunt daddy, please.”

He rolls you over onto your side and lifts your leg up, “Wrap theses thighs around my head, sweet girl.“

You moan as he pillows his head on your bottom leg and presses the other one over his head as he licks into your throbbing pussy. 

You love it but Leon’s being so slow. He’s lapping at your hole and teasingly dipping his tongue inside then changing direction and kissing his way up to your clit to lick and suck on the sensitive bud. 

He hums and groans noisily into your cunt, hands gripping your waist to keep you pressed as close as possible to his mouth. Whining, you squeeze your thighs around his head as you ride his face. Leon goes a little wild at that and roughly fucks his tongue up into your dripping pussy, grinding his nose against your clit harshly.  

He rolls you onto your back, hands now digging uncomfortably into your spine but that gets shoved to the side in favor of the electrifying feeling of Leon devouring your pussy like a man starved. 

“Leon, feels so good,” you whine, rolling down against his mouth, “gonna cum.”

You cry out as he pulls away, landing a smack onto your spit soaked clit. 

“None of that til you earn it,” he grins, wiping your slick off of his chin, “roll back onto your tummy for me, sweetheart.”

Your chest burns with embarrassment at his tone as you roll back over onto your front. 

“That little pussy distracted me, but I’m about to paddle this ass til I think you’ve learned a lesson, okay?” you feel him shift on the bed. 

“Almost forgot,” he laughs under his breath making you feel warm all over, “lift your head a bit. There we go.”

He slips the faux leather collar around your neck and fastens it gently.

“Leon,” you whimper, biting your lip. 

“Not too tight?”

You shake your head no as you relax down into the bed, “No daddy, s’good.”

“Good girl,” he pets your hip making you sigh, “you can be so good when you want to be.”

“M sorry, Leon,” you wiggle against him, “I’ll be good, promise.”

“Too late for that, still gotta spank my girl for acting up,” he lightly taps the paddle down onto your sore ass, “gonna give you ten, if it’s too much you let me know okay?”

You hum, “Yes, daddy.”

Leon ghosts his fingertips against your tender skin and as soon as you relax into the touch, he brings the paddle down to crack against both cheeks. 

You gasp out a low moan as Leon chuckles, “Don’t you sound pretty. That’s one.”

He quickly brings down the paddle until he lands on five. You’re sniffling into the bedsheets by then, skin feeling like it’s on fire. 

“Hurts, daddy,” your tongue is heavy in your mouth.

You hear him set the paddle down on the bed as he smooths his palms down your back to softly ghost over your inflamed skin down to your thighs.   

“Okay, baby.”

He grabs around your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed making you whine as the sheets drag across your swollen clit. 

Looping his fingers through your collar, he pulls you until your spine’s curved with your ass pushed out. Without any warning, he bullies his fat cock deep into your cunt, not stopping until he’s completely bottomed out. 

You squeal and writhe in his grasp, eyes rolling back at the sudden stretch and fullness of your pussy. Giving you no time to adjust, he’s pulling all the way out until only the tip is stretching you open before thrusting back into your soaked hole.

Your whole body thrums with pain and arousal, gasping as the collar pulls against your neck sporadically with his thrusts. 

“Pussy’s just crying for me,” Leon mutters as he grinds his hips against your sore ass making you clench, “fuck, she’s soaked, honey.”

Drooling, your hands scramble at the sheets to push yourself up to keep from choking on the collar, “D-daddy.”

“Take it, honey,” he growls, “you’re gonna take what I give you and you’re gonna like it.”

You shudder and press back against him. Leon groans and lets go of your collar to shove you face down into the bed, roughly yanking your hips back. 

“Tight little pussy,” he grunts, pushing his palm on the middle of your back to keep you still.

He fucks into you hard, making you scream as he knocks the tip of his dick into your cervix making fireworks explode in your head. 

“There we go,” he laughs, hand sliding up your back to press your face into the bed, “gotta make it hurt or you’ll never learn your lesson, baby.”

You can only make punched out little moans of pain as Leon pounds your pussy, the fat head of his cock pressing against your cervix and grinding against the opening. Your legs kick out weakly but he just laughs and smacks your ass with this other hand. 

“Don’t even need to spit on this pretty pussy she’s so wet,” he groans. 

Leon pulls his cock out making you mewl. Shifting around, he presses the bottom of his foot on your head, the other planted firmly on the floor, and fucks down into your pussy at a new angle.

Using both hands to grab onto your hip, he rocks his dick in and out of your dripping hole, slick messily smearing over your cunt. 

You moan loudly, pussy walls clenching down on Leon, sucking him in deeper. He thrusts his cock harder into your  squelching cunt, making your eyes roll back as he grinds against your g-spot. 

“Leon!” 

“Feeling good?” he presses his foot down harder, smushing your drooling face into the bedspread, “want you to cum for me, sweet girl.”

Punched out ah ah ah’s leave your lips, pussy split in two as he bullies his cock repeatedly into your sloppy wet hole. His cock keeps knocking against your g-spot make you squeal and clench down on him, pussy walls fluttering around his fat dick. That little band of arousal snaps and your body thrashes against the sheets, slick coating Leon’s cock as you cum with a loud cry. 

“There we go,” he coos down at your twitching body, aftershocks pulsing through your cunt making you whine, “such a good girl for me.”

Leon moves until he’s standing behind you again, fucking his cock deep into your clenching pussy. 

“Squeeze down on me, pretty thing,” he smacks your ass making you whimper and grind back against him.

“Gonna cum all over your ass since you don’t deserve it in your cute pussy this time, sweetheart.”

You whine, “Please, Leon, please, I’ll be good, please.”

His laugh ends in a groan as you clamp down on his dick, “Oh I’m sure, but this’s to show you how to behave for next time.”

You whine when he pulls out of your cunt, jerking his cock as he shoots hot spurts of cum all over your lower back and ass. After he finishes, you feel his broad palms rub the sticky jizz into your skin with a low laugh. 

“Pretty baby,” he sighs, undoing the restraints on your arms and the collar around your neck, “you okay, honey?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum as he rubs your chafed wrists, “wanna shower.”

He chuckles and kisses your bare shoulder, “Me too, c’mon I’ll help you up.”

Leon bends and scoops you up bridal style as you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I’ll take you out tomorrow night, promise,” he kisses your jaw softly, “now I just wanna take care of you, okay?”

You pet your hands through his hair with a sweet sigh, “Thank you, Leon.”

[thatbloodymuggle]

READY TO RUN (vi)

SIX - PIANISSIMO

SUMMARY: in a world where everyone has a predetermined match, JJ Maybank and Y/N Montgomery want nothing to do with theirs. it has to be a cruel joke; the universe forcing two people to love each other when they don’t know how.

PAIRING: jj maybank x reader / soulmate au

WORD COUNT: 7.8k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: implied abuse

✰✰✰

"Bravo, Y/N! Much, much improved!" Madame Mercier applauded enthusiastically as you removed your hands from the keys and returned them to your lap.

You exhaled in relief and a proud grin tugged at your lips. 

"Did you do something different during your practices this week? At this rate we may be able to sneak in another piece for your exposition," the old woman praised you.

I got dicked down by JJ Maybank, you thought.

"I did a lot of chunked repetitions," you said.

Madame placed her wrinkled hands on your shoulders, "Well keep doing that, chérie. My only criticism is measures--"

"64-68. I know," you finished your teacher's sentence. The woman nodded once sharply before placing your notebook down, silently dismissing you from your lesson.

Just as you rose from the bench, the front doorbell rang followed by a sharp knock. Madame Mercier's brows cinched and she mumbled under her breath, "Qui est là?"

You continued your work packing up your things as Madame went to answer the door. You nearly dropped your books when you heard your father's distinct voice sound through the house.

"It's nice to see you, Madame. I'm not interrupting, am I?"

You scrambled to finish packing your bag and rushed out of the room, nearly tripping over your clumsy feet. You slid into the front room with a frazzled look as you stared wide-eyed at Clyde Montgomery. He stood with his hands on his hips as he spoke with your teacher with a polite smile that didn't quite reach his stern eyes. His gaze shifted to you and he cocked his head, beckoning you over.

"I apologize for showing up unannounced," he addressed Madame, "I simply wanted to check in on Y/N’s progress. I trust she communicated with you our deal?"

Madame pushed her wire-framed glasses onto her head as she squinted up at the tall man in confusion. Clyde shot you a hard look as it was evident the older woman had no idea what he was talking about.

"Y/N, go wait outside in the car. I'll be there shortly," he sighed, running a hand over his face.

Your lips dipped and you shrank in on herself at his tone. You felt like a child. Nevertheless, you nodded obediently and scurried out of the house, avoiding Madame's watchful eye. You clambered into the front seat of the Rolls-Royce and slammed the door shut behind you with a groan. You shouldn't have been surprised by your father's lack of trust. He had actually been giving you more freedom than expected. But it still frustrated you, nonetheless. You leaned your head against the window and shut your eyes with a sigh. While you waited, you drummed measures 64-68 on your thigh, hoping to imprint the problem area in your muscle memory. 

You were jolted from your ghost playing by the opening of the driver's side door as Clyde climbed into the expensive car beside you. You tensed at your father's presence, subconsciously sitting up a little bit straighter. 

"Well, I'm disappointed that you didn't inform your teacher of our arrangement," your father spoke gruffly as he turned the keys in the ignition. You shrunk in on yourself. "But she had nothing but praises to sing of you," he continued while pulling the car from the curb. 

Your shoulders slumped with relief.

"We briefly spoke about the Juilliard scout's visit. I'll arrange to have the clubhouse reserved for the event, as well as catering," he added as he drove down the street.

You nodded, "Thank you, Dad. I really appreciate it."

While you truly did appreciate the support, it was a double-edged sword; now Clyde had put a stake in your success at the showcase. If God forbid, something went wrong, you would never be allowed to forget all that your father did to make it possible only for you to screw it up.

You stared out of the window and diverted your focus toward the passing white houses to prevent your thoughts from spiraling. You jolted as your phone buzzed in your lap. 

4:17 PM Kate: what time for movie night? 

You gnawed on your bottom lip as you were reminded of the friends you had been avoiding for over a week now. You couldn't possibly push this off any longer.

"Hey, Dad?" you looked at your father. His eyes remained trained on the road ahead, but he grunted, signaling you to continue, "Is it okay if I sleep over at Kate's tonight?"

Clyde mulled over your question for a moment before replying, "Considering you've been on top of your responsibilities I suppose that would be alright. But I expect you to be back in time for Georgia's tennis tournament. We'll be leaving the house at 10 A.M."

You nodded, "Yes, Sir,” and quickly typed a response to Kate.

to Kate:

how about 8? delivered 4:19 PM

You sighed and rested your head back against the window. Now you just had to figure out what the hell you were going to say to Kate; surely easier said than done. You wondered if JJ could feel the anxiety bubbling in the pit of your stomach. He surely felt the aching of your hands from your grueling practice session. Your lips quirked as you thought of Madame's remark about your drastic improvement. If JJ ever found out that fucking your senseless had such an effect on your piano performance, you would never live it down.

Before you could stop yourself, your mind drifted to him. You pictured yourself on the back of his dirt bike again, the wind tickling your skin. It almost felt sinful, indulging in the memory of it. And as you wondered when you would see him next, you savored the impurity of it all.

✰✰✰

"You're such a freak," Dixie's grating voice jostled you from your ghost practicing.

You huffed at the disturbance and narrowed your eyes at your older sister. Convincing Dixie to drive you to Kate's house, although only 10 minutes away, was like pulling teeth. You weren't in the mood to argue with her in the car, but it seemed nearly impossible as you felt the annoyance seeping from Dixie at your incessant finger drumming.

You rolled your eyes, "At least I have career aspirations beyond whacking a ball around with a stick."

"Career aspirations, my ass," your older sister scoffed at your insult as she sped down the state road, "You forget that I already have a job lined up at Fox after graduation," she added smugly.

You snorted at this, "Yeah, 'cause the world needs another Banana Republican to tell them all about everything wrong with the snowflake liberals."

Dixie gripped the steering wheel and seethed, "Watch your mouth, Y/N. If you're not careful, I might just accidentally slip up in front of Mom and share all about your little display at Topper's birthday."

Your face paled and you snapped your head toward your older sister, "How the hell did you find out about that?"

"You weren't exactly subtle, little sis," Dixie quipped with an eye roll.

You huffed but relented and slumped back into the passenger seat. You knew nearly every Kook on the island was at Topper's party, but you foolishly never considered the possibility that Dixie and her friends were there. You remained silent for the rest of the drive and nearly leaped out of the car when Dixie finally stopped in front of Kate's house. You didn't so much as wave Dixie goodbye as your older sister zipped away. 

You shuddered as you shook off your annoyance and turned to face the walkway to the front door. With each step closer, your heart beat a little bit faster. You rang the doorbell before you could talk yourself out of it, and your breathing hitched as your head pounded in anticipation. You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. Just as you exhaled, the door swung open and you were enveloped in a hug. You stumbled backward as you were suffocated by the smell of Kate's vanilla shampoo. You wrapped your arms around your friend once you had recovered from the initial shock, and a small weight was lifted from your shoulders at the sign of affection. 

"I missed you so much," Kate cried, tightening her hold.

"Me too," you gasped, "But I can't breathe."

Kate quickly unraveled herself and opted to place her hands on your shoulders instead, as you struggled to catch your breath. Kate stared at you with wide eyes, "Are you okay?"

You nodded with a soft smile. You leaned forward and wrapped her in a hug once more, and Kate made sure to be more gentle with her grip this time.

"You done suffocating her?"

Kate released you once again at the sound of Topper's voice.

You grinned up at your best guy friend, "You jealous?" youquipped.

Topper grunted and placed his hand on top of your head, rustling your around. You squealed, pulling away from him with a glare.

"Missed you, Montgomery," he smiled, satisfied at the mess he'd made of your hair, "Life was getting kind of boring without someone to bully."

"I'm so glad you see me as more than a punching bag," you retorted, sarcasm dripping from your lips. 

Kate rolled her eyes at the interaction and grabbed your hand, dragging you to the living room. You smiled softly as you saw that the couple had laid out a huge bowl of popcorn alongside a variety of candy. The sight tugged at your heartstrings, as you realized how much you had missed your friends.

"As much as I've missed you, you do have some explaining to do," Kate spoke tenderly as she settled onto the couch and draped a throw blanket over her legs. Topper sat beside his girlfriend and stretched his legs out onto an ottoman. He remained silent but quirked his eyebrows in question.

You sighed but nodded. The anxiety you had felt before entering the house had returned with a vengeance. "I assume Anna hasn't said anything?"

Kate and Topper shook their heads.

"She hasn't even mentioned your name, but we've barely seen her. She’s been hanging around Charlie and Will's crowd," Kate replied.

You frowned, and you felt a sharp pang in your heart. Anna was one of your oldest friends. Surely she couldn’t just be moving on like nothing happened.

"Well," you started, but paused, unsure of how to continue. You wet your lips and took a deep breath before continuing. "I met my soulmate a couple of weeks ago," you ripped off the bandaid.

Kate's eyes bulged and she choked on her popcorn. 

"You what?" she shrieked, and you winced at her volume. "How come you didn't tell us sooner? Who is it? When did you meet? What was it like-" Kate rambled out question after question but stopped herself as Topper squeezed her thigh, kindly telling her to shut up.

You laughed dryly, "It's complicated," Kate's lips dipped into a frown, but allowed you to continue, "And to be honest, I'm not ready to share who it is yet."

Kate couldn't stop herself from protesting, "Seriously, Y/N? So Anna can know but not me? She’s literally not speaking to you, and you still won't tell me?"

Guilt flooded you as you heard the hurt in her tone.

"I didn't tell Anna," you tried to defend herself, "Anna figured it out herself. And I promise I'll tell you as soon as I'm ready, but I'm still processing it myself."

You looked at Topper, who was yet to contribute to the conversation. His brows were cinched together in thought, and an indiscernible look clouded his eyes. Kate sighed, and reluctantly nodded in acceptance of your answer, "Okay. But please don't be scared to confide in me. I promise I won't just ditch you like Anna, no matter who it is."

Your lips quirked into a hesitant smile at Kate's promise. You could only hope that she would stay true to her word. 

"But just don't go all MIA on us again, okay?" Kate added.

You didn't hesitate to nod in agreement, "I promise I won't."

Kate seemed satisfied enough with your response as she tackled you with one more hug, "We forgive you, you. Right, Top?"

Your eyes met Topper's. He was still clearly deep in thought, but even so, he gave you a sincere nod. You could’ve cried in relief at how well your talk had gone. You knew that this was all temporary and you would have to share the identity of your soulmate eventually; still, you relished the feeling. 

Kate retreated to her position underneath the blanket and grabbed the TV remote, "So what are we watching?"

The trio ended up settling on Clueless, despite Topper's groans of protest. You relaxed on the couch and made your way through a bag of M&M's as you watched the story of Cher Horowitz and drooled over young Paul Rudd.

Your attention was diverted from the movie as your phone buzzed in your lap. You furrowed your brows as you set your candy aside to check it.

9:26 PM Unknown: wyd

Your nose scrunched in confusion. Who the hell was texting you at 9 PM on a Thursday? Shivers danced up your arms and your jaw fell slack as realization dawned on you. You had hastily given JJ your number for the purposes of your arrangement when he dropped you off at your house the other night. It had to have been him. Your face paled and your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, your mind drawing a blank as you tried to respond. You weren’t sure why you were so surprised by his text; you had willingly given him your number. 

A minute or so passed before the shock settled, and you frowned as you read over his short message again. 'wyd'? Seriously? You scoffed at the douchiest text you’d ever received from a man.

You started typing out a response, before deleting it. You typed again, deleted, and typed again before giving up completely and shutting off your phone for the time being. You were not about to let JJ ruin movie night, you decided. 

You felt blunt nails dig harshly into the side of your thigh, and you winced. You rolled your eyes as if JJ could see you. He must have seen that you had begun to type a response but never sent it. You tried to ignore him, but he was relentless. No more than a minute would pass before you would feel the sinking of his nails into your thigh. You ground your teeth and jumped out of your seat, sick of his antics. Topper and Kate both glanced at you curiously.

"Gonna get some water," you mumbled, quickly making your exit. 

You gave yourself a harsh slap in the same spot on your thigh as you entered the kitchen, hopefully keeping JJ at bay at least for a little bit while you collected yourself. You pulled your phone out and opened his message once again, biting the inside of your cheek as your fingers once again hovered blankly over the keyboard. Finally, you formulated a lame response.

to Unknown:

can't tonight delivered 9:43 PM

You could literally feel his irritation at your response. Before you could finish pouring yourself a glass of water, your phone buzzed yet again. Just as you finished filling the glass and reached for your phone from the counter, a voice startled you.

"It's a Pogue, isn't it?"

You squeaked and clutched your chest, nearly dropping the water glass. You whipped around and looked at Topper, wide-eyed.

"Jesus, Topper, don't sneak up on me like that!"

He merely cocked a brow in response, waiting patiently for a response. You frowned at the look on his face and set your glass down with a sigh.

"How'd you figure?"

He shrugged, "Wasn't all that hard. You've been acting weird ever since the kegger. And that would explain what I heard from your argument with Anna. I'm surprised Kate didn't put two and two together, but you know how she can be gullible."

You looked down at your feet and slumped against the counter. There was no use denying it. Topper leaned on the counter beside you before continuing, "You don't have to tell me who it is yet. But can you just promise me you won't ditch us?"

You diverted your gaze up to meet his. His eyes were wide with sincerity, and your lips twitched downwards in confusion, "Of course, I would never ditch you guys, why on Earth would you think that?"

Topper shrugged, crossing his arms, "Well I never thought Sarah would completely cut me out of her life."

Your face fell at his response. He had been deeply hurt by her disappearance, and even though he had Kate, he surely missed her as a friend. You immediately felt bad that you hadn't thought of this, and you looped your arm through his, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh. 

"I'm sorry, Top. I know it may be hard for you to trust me when I say this, but I promise I will never leave you guys behind like that," you paused before continuing, "You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

He chuckled at that, and wrapped an arm around your side, squeezing you softly before releasing you. "I think you're, like, in love with me or something," he teased.

You snorted, "I'd rather kiss a frog."

"You better get back in there, Kate may be gullible but she's not dumb," Topper cocked his head towards the living room while he grabbed his own drink.

You nodded and swiped your phone and water glass from the kitchen counter before striding back into the living room. Kate was completely immersed in the movie, oblivious to your disappearance. You smiled to yourself at the sight and returned to your position on the couch. 

You couldn't even put into words the comfort the short chat with Topper bestowed upon you. You knew he wouldn't be thrilled when he found out the identity of your Pogue soulmate. But at least you knew you wouldn't lose him as a friend.

As the thought of the blond Pogue crossed your mind, you pulled out your phone once more and opened your messages.

9:44 PM Unknown: don't be a tease

You quickly typed out a simple, yet effective response and sent it before you could think twice about it. You turned your phone off and settled back into your seat, intent on paying attention to the rest of the movie. You tried your best to ignore the giddy feeling creeping up on you in anticipation of his response.

to Unknown:

tomorrow delivered 9:58 PM

✰✰✰

Your heart pounded as you placed your room. You double-checked that you had locked your door for the 6th time. You smoothed out the nonexistent wrinkles on your throw blanket. You fluffed your pillows, checked your makeup, and picked at your hair, all the while unable to take your eyes off of the ticking clock.

11:44 P.M.

He was supposed to be here by now.

You groaned as you desperately tried to find something to busy yourself with and calm your nerves, but to no avail. Why wasn't he here yet?

You checked your phone again. His lack of communication was not surprising, but that didn't stop your heart from dropping yet again at the sight of your empty lock screen. You read through the texts you’d exchanged for the dozenth time with a frown. With each minute that passed, you could feel yourself drifting closer to the conclusion you desperately hoped to avoid: JJ had stood you up. 

You trudged towards the windows of the French doors leading to your balcony. You pulled back the curtains and just as you peered outside to the dark yard below, you felt a searing, blinding pain across your cheek.

It happened so fast, you could barely process it.

You stumbled backward as a violent force shoved you. You crumpled onto the ground in a heap. The first kick to your gut took you by surprise, and you cried out in pain. You grabbed a knocked-over pillow just in time to muffle your scream as the second kick came. You wheezed through muffled sobs but were given no reprieve. Kick after kick, you felt like someone was trying to rearrange your insides. You lay in a fetal position, clenching your fists so hard you were sure you were drawing blood. You waited for the familiar feeling of bone crunching underneath your knuckles, but it never came. 

Finally, and suddenly it stopped.

You cautiously removed the tear-stained pillow from your mouth. Your gut throbbed so violently that you felt nauseous, and the stinging, invisible cut on your face sent waves of shooting pain to your head each time you blinked. But just when you thought it was over, an unrelenting force squeezed you by the throat.

Your tearful eyes shot wide open. You clawed desperately at your neck, but there was nothing there. 

It's not real, it's not real, it's not real, you repeated to yourself in your head like a mantra.

But it was real. It just wasn't yours.

Just when you were beginning to see stars, the pressure constricting your throat disappeared. You spluttered and coughed violently as you gasped for breath, unable to contain the vicious sobs from escaping you. 

But worse than the blinding pain plaguing your body was the visceral image of JJ lying crumpled on the ground somewhere, unable to fight back.

You used every ounce of will you had to shut your eyes tight and force yourself to breathe. 

In, and out. Do it for him. He needs you.

You unfurled yourself from your position on the ground, fighting against your protesting body.

In, and out.

Your trembling hands reached for the water bottle on your bedside table. You forced the liquid down your aching throat, soothing the burning.

Do it for him.

You forced herself to your feet, continuing with your deep breathing. You slowly stumbled, one foot in front of the next, towards your door. You used the wall to support your weight as you wobbled down the stairs at an agonizingly slow pace. 

He needs you.

You felt light headed by the time you had reached the kitchen. You swung open the freezer and blindly grabbed a handful of ice packs. Halfway there, you told yourself. You willed your mind to another place and focused on your breathing as you once again stumbled up the stairs and back to your room. Your hand fumbled with the lock behind you, and you used the last bit of adrenaline coursing through your to collapse onto your bed. Carefully, you laid on your left side, draped one ice pack over your right, and held another against your burning abdomen. 

Your eyes fluttered shut and your lips parted at the relief of the cooling sensation. You could only hope it was enough for him to find the strength to get to safety. Your head spun as the adrenaline fueling you had run out. You couldn't find the strength to keep your eyes open, let alone reach for your phone. Your world went black as you gave into the exhaustion, despite your protesting mind.

✰✰✰

TAP TAP

You were shaken awake by a sudden noise.

Your groggy eyes blinked open, and you were instantly reminded of the now dull, throbbing pain in your gut. 

TAP TAP

Despite your protesting body, you pushed yourself up. You nearly jumped out of your skin as you looked out the window and found a pair of familiar ocean blues staring back at you. You scrambled to your feet, flinging the now melted ice packs from your body. You moved as quickly as your body allowed to the French doors, swiftly unlocking and swinging them wide open. 

your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight before you.

JJ was leaning against the balcony railing, masking the pain you knew was searing his side. Dried blood was smeared across the right side of his face, covering the cut you knew was underneath. The skin surrounding his neck was red, in the early stages of bruising. 

But what pained you most was the clash between the boyish, lopsided grin painted on his lips and the agony swimming in his puffy eyes.

"Sorry I'm late, princess," he rasped.

Your bottom lip wobbled, and you launched herself towards him.

JJ stumbled as you buried your tear-stained face in his shoulder and wrapped your shaky arms around his neck. The two teenagers ignored the dull pain in their bodies, as the feeling of being wrapped up in each other provided a cure that rivaled even the strongest of painkillers. He snaked his arms around your waist and held onto your for dear life as you stumbled into your room. 

"I'm gonna get blood all over your pretty little silk robe," his gasping breath tickled your ear.

"Shut up," you mumbled into the crook of his neck.

You threaded your trembling fingers through his blond locks, and JJ melted into your healing touch. You stood tangled together for what felt like hours, but were, in reality, mere minutes, each afraid to be the one to pull away.

You shifted in his hold, and pressed your lips against the side of his neck as you barely spoke above a whisper, "Please, let me help you."

He shivered at the feeling of your shaky breath on his bruised skin. JJ swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, before nodding once. You reluctantly untangled yourself from him and threaded your fingers between his, gently tugging him towards your ensuite bathroom. He avoided his reflection in the mirror as you guided him, pushing his shoulders so he sat on the closed toilet. 

JJ watched as you crouched down and grabbed a first-aid kit from underneath the sink, alongside a container of cotton balls. You pulled out a small stepping stool and maneuvered it so it sat right in front of him. With all of your tools in place, you sat down on the small stool and assessed the damage. Your hands were gentle as you brushed his hair back. You felt a sharp pang in your heart as you looked closely at the injury on his face.

You bit back the question on the tip of your tongue: Who the hell did this to you?

"Do I still look pretty?" JJ half-heartedly quipped with a grin that didn't reach his tormented eyes.

You gave him a soft, sullen smile as you gently dabbed a wet washcloth around the cut on his face, "You'll be the belle of the ball when I'm done with you."

JJ couldn't help but stare at the way your brows cinched and the tip of your tongue poked out of your mouth as you cleaned the area, careful not to press too hard against his open wound. 

"You're really beautiful, you know?" he whispered.

You flushed and you shook your head, "Even at your worst you're still pulling all the stops," you tried to joke off his compliment.

"No stops, just stating the truth."

You tried your best to ignore his beating stare and willed away the blush creeping up your neck. You sighed in relief as you saw that the cut on his cheek, while long, was not deep. You grabbed a cotton ball from your side and doused it with isopropyl. 

"This might hurt," you mumbled before dabbing the soaked cotton ball along the site of the wound.

JJ hissed at the burning sensation and jerked away from your touch. You gritted your teeth and squinted as you shared the feeling. You gently intertwined your free hand with his and pulled him back wordlessly. He sucked in a breath as you went back to cleaning the area, forcing himself to remain steady.

You tossed the used cotton ball into the bin beside you. Your eyes trailed down from his cheek to his bruising neck. You pursed your lips at the developing bruises, and he squirmed under your scrutiny. JJ flinched as you delicately brushed the back of your hand over the affected area with a featherlike touch.

"I don't think I can do anything about these, but I can show you how to cover them up," you tried your best to speak in a steady, even tone, but the quiver of your voice at the horrific sight was undeniable. JJ gulped and nodded. 

You stood from your seat and rummaged through your makeup drawer. You returned with a tube of concealer in hand. You held it out for him, and JJ cautiously grabbed it from you, examining its contents. 

"Start with a little, and blend it out with your fingers until it looks like part of your skin. You can then keep adding more until it's completely covered," you explained softly. He pocketed the makeup, which he would likely be using the next day.

JJ watched as your hands trailed down to the hem of his shirt. He nearly melted when your eyes flicked up to meet his.

"Can I take this off?" you whispered.

His mouth was parched, unable to reply. He nodded again.

You swallowed down a gasp as you inched the material up, revealing a mess of purple and blue painted across his torso. Your heart shattered at the sight and you gulped, willing yourself to maintain composure. He raised his arms with a wince and pulled his shirt over his head, giving you a full view of the damage. You pressed softly against his abdomen and felt the sharp pain in your own.

JJ cleared his throat, "I don't think there's much you can do about that," he referred to the bruises.

You gnawed your lip in thought, and your heart skipped a beat as JJ pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, pulling it out from between your teeth, "That's a really awful habit you have, you know."

You sucked in a breath as he ran his thumb along your lip, speechless. 

"Compression can help with the swelling," you whispered, "If you'll let me wrap you up."

He nodded once.

You rummaged through your supply kit once more, pulling out a roll of elastic bandage. You worked slowly to not impose any unwanted pressure and ensure the bandage was wrapped with the proper amount of tension. JJ glanced down at the mess of bruises, instantly regretting his decision. He diverted his gaze to the white wall behind you.

"You can ask me," he broke the silence.

You paused your work, before slowly continuing, "Ask you what?"

He quickly replied, "What you've been dying to ask me since I showed up at your window."

You slowed as we neared the end of the area you needed to cover. You gently attached the velcro, careful not to press too hard against his side. Finally, your eyes flicked up to meet his, which were still trained on the wall behind. 

"Who did this to you?" you rasped, your voice strained.

Unshed tears glossed over the ocean blues you were quickly growing to love. His lips curled into an eerie grin, "My old man's always been a mean drunk."

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach and the roll of bandage fell from your hand.

For years, you’d felt the consequences of JJ's lifestyle. You were no stranger to the feeling of broken noses, bruised ribs, and black eyes. But you’d always chopped it up to your soulmate's reckless lifestyle. They were constantly getting themselves into trouble, and you were the poor bystander. You'd built up this image of them, an image of a soldier fresh out of war, battered but victorious. Never had you considered that they may be victim to a wickedness like no other.

A flood of emotions engulfed you. Shame, for assuming the worst of your other half. Anger, that a father could inflict such pain on his son. But most of all, heartache. 

Your jaw fell slack and you watched as a single tear escaped the corner of JJ's right eye, trailing down the crevices of his face before finding refuge in the wrinkle of his sinister smile. 

With a trembling hand, you caressed his jaw and delicately wiped the tear from his face. He shook his head violently as he buried his face in his hands. 

You clambered onto his lap and snaked your arms around him. You tried with all your might to maintain composure as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. His body trembled as you wrapped your legs around him. You used one hand to rub soothing circles into his back, while the other gently threaded through his hair. 

"Please, don't pity me," he choked out, his breath tickling the nape of your neck.

You shook your head as you felt tears pricking at your eyes, "I don't pity you, JJ," you whispered into his ear, "You're so strong. Stronger than I ever really knew." His grip around your waist tightened.

You propped your chin on top of his head as he fell limp against you, relinquishing control and giving in to your embrace. You sat entangled on the porcelain toilet, unmoving. The two of you remained wrapped around each other until you lost feeling in your legs. You reluctantly unraveled your legs from around him so they dangled off his lap. You loosened your grip enough so you could rest your forehead against his.

You sat there, nose to nose, bloodshot eyes trained on one another, lips parted with bated breaths. You ran your fingers through his hair as you spoke softly, "Will you stay here tonight?"

JJ's puffy eyes shot down and he lurched forward in one swift motion. You gasped as he molded his lips against yours. The kiss was languid, but intoxicating all the same. The salty taste of his tears made it all the more electrifying as your lips moved together in sync. Your elegant fingers were gentle against the roughness of his jaw as you held him impossibly closer. And as your lips moved against JJ's, you realized that his pain had vanished, even if just for a moment. The fractured teenagers remained like this, glued together until their lips were swollen and they could no longer breathe. 

"As much as I'd love to stay like this all night," JJ gasped, blue eyes swimming with desire, "I think I lost feeling in my legs 10 minutes ago."

His lips quirked into a smile as he watched you scramble from your seat on his lap, muttering apologies along the way. He couldn't help but indulge in the sight of you like this: wide-eyed, tousled hair, and robe askew, revealing a lacy bralette underneath. JJ pulled himself to his feet with a wince, now towering over you. 

He ran the back of his fingers down the curve of your breast against the exposed lace, "You put on this pretty little number for me?"

You flushed and hastily readjusted your robe. You rolled your eyes in a pitiful attempt to conceal the effect he had on you.

"You know women don't always dress for men," you spoke with little conviction. But you certainly had.

As you cleaned up your discarded supplies, JJ finally looked at his reflection in the mirror. His breath hitched as he took in your handiwork; aside from the thin cut along his cheek and his puffy eyes, his face looked normal. His neck, on the other hand, was another case entirely. He gulped at the sight of the developing bruises and diverted his gaze elsewhere. While you continued with your tidying, he wandered towards the bedroom. 

His jaw clicked as he took in his surroundings for the first time. Your bedroom was obscenely large. A fluffy, white carpet covered the polished wooden floors, and a king-sized bed stood proudly in the middle of the area. The dozens of pillows against the elaborate headboard elicited a scoff from JJ. Two pillows were a luxury for him, let alone 12. He kicked off his mud-caked boots and walked towards the bed, running his hand along the silk sheets peeking out from underneath the duvet. It looked like something straight out of The Princess and the Pea. He snorted at the thought; with all your pillows and silk sheets, you probably did sleep like the princess from the old fairy tale. 

JJ found himself drawn to the upright piano. He ran his fingers across the pristine, white keys of the instrument, and pressed one finger down slowly onto an F. He felt the tension of the hammer hitting the string inside the instrument and listened in awe to the crisp tone that filled the room. His eyes wandered to the book propped open on the stand, battered and bent so that the pages wouldn't flip. His brows furrowed at the mess of tiny little notes and narrow measures, filled with pencil scribbles here and there. 

JJ felt your presence creep up behind him. He glanced at you briefly, before returning to the piece of sheet music, "How the hell do you make sense of this shit? I think I'd have better luck reading in Chinese."

Your lips quirked and you hummed in amusement, "I never really thought of it that way, but I guess it kind of is like a different language."

He pressed down on another key.

"That's middle C," you commented.

"Middle who?" JJ questioned.

You couldn't help but giggle softly, "Each key has a name. They go from A to F, and middle C is the 4th C from the left," you explained.

JJ sat down on the bench as he pressed the same note again, "So how do you find the other C's?"

You sat beside him, "You can think of the whole piano in chunks, and each chunk is this thing called an octave," youplayed C5, "This is the next C key, so from middle C to here is an octave," youplayed C6, "And from where I just was to here is another octave."

He nodded, still perplexed by the instrument. "What about all the keys in between?"

You gracefully placed your hand on middle C, and made your way up the keyboard, naming each note as you played it, "C, D, E, F, G, A, B, and then back to C."

"What about the black keys?" JJ questioned, now playing an E.

"Don't worry about those, for now," you laughed airily.

You gently grabbed his right hand and guided it onto the keyboard. You positioned his thumb on middle C, his middle finger on E, and his pinky on G. You then placed your hand over his, and gently pushed down on these three fingers, indicating to him which ones to play. JJ watched in awe as the aurally pleasing combination of keys rang through the air. 

"That's a C major chord," you explained, and he played it again. You guided his hand down an octave, and positioned his fingers in the same manner, instructing him to push down again, "And you can play it on any octave."

JJ was mesmerized by the instrument as you continued to show up the basics. You taught him how to play an arpeggio, albeit slowly, and after his unrelenting questioning about the mysterious black keys, you explained sharps and flats. He was so entranced by your knowledge of the instrument that the pain in his gut merely felt like a distant ache. 

"Can you play something for me?" he asked, watching as the left corner of your pink lips twitched upwards. 

You hummed in thought and shifted closer towards him so you sat on the center of the bench. JJ watched intently as you took a deep breath, shut your eyes, and let your hands fall onto the keys as you exhaled. Your eyes flicked open, and your fingers moved on their own accord as you played the opening sequence of Chopin's Nocturne in E flat major, a piece you had memorized for years now. JJ's ears perked at the familiar melody he must have heard in a movie before.

The sound your nimble fingers produced was captivating, and he found himself drunk off of the gentle, soothing melody. What captivated him most was not the nocturne itself, but rather, the ease with which you played. He watched, awestruck, as your hands glided across the keys with a fluidity he didn't know the human body possessed. your elbows never dipped and your back remained straight, but you still moved with the melody in a way that both unsettled and mesmerized him. your eyes fluttered shut as you played the last note. you waited until the tone had completely dissipated before opening them and removing your hands from the instrument.

You turned to JJ to find his eyes already trained on you. His lips parted and he rasped, "Do it again."

You released an airy laugh and shook your head, "Maybe another time," your eyes flit up to the clock hanging on the wall above, "It's almost 2 AM."

JJ shrugged, "The night's still young."

"And you're still injured," you retorted.

He huffed but relented as he knew he was on the losing end of this battle. You stood from the bench and pad towards your walk-in closet. Your cheeks flushed as you untied the front of your robe, and looked down at your lingerie. You hadn't known what a turn the night would take, but you still couldn't help but feel silly in your outfit. You didn't dare glance at JJ as you kept your back turned and dropped the robe, leaving you in a matching bralette and panties. you reached behind your to undo the clasp but jumped as JJ's hands covered yours and his breath tickled your neck. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.

"Let me do it."

You relented and dropped your arms. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers on your back. He swiftly unclasped the bra and guided it down your arms. He groaned at the sight of your bare breasts, and you shivered at the sound. His rough hands snaked around your waist and roamed up your body as he pressed his lips against your collarbone. You gasped as he flicked your nipples with his thumbs, and they pebbled under his touch. You whined as he thrust his hips against your ass. You could feel his arousal both in the pit of your own stomach and poking behind you. 

"You're so sexy when you play," he rasped against your neck, "I'd do anything to have you play one more song for me like this."

It took everything in you not to melt under his electrifying touch. Despite your protesting body, you pulled herself forward from his gasp and turned to face him, forcing his gaze upwards to meet your eyes. 

"You're hurt and you need sleep," you spoke sternly.

You reached behind him to grab an oversized t-shirt, but he swiftly took it from your hands. "I'm all better now. Please," he pleaded, dipping his head back down towards you. 

You stepped back and snatched the shirt back from his hands, pulling it over your head before he could protest. "No, you're not. Don't try to bullshit me; you forget that I can literally feel that you're lying."

 JJ groaned, but yet again relented, as he knew you were right; as much as it irritated him.

He followed you to the bed and watched as you tossed aside the majority of the pillow mountain and pulled back the covers. He followed your lead and removed his shorts, leaving him in his boxers. JJ crawled underneath the covers as you turned off the lights, leaving only your bedside lamp. He nearly moaned at the soothing feeling of your plush mattress. He felt like he was being enveloped by a cloud, completely weightless. JJ slowly turned himself onto his good side and waited patiently for his other half.

You fought back a smile at the sight of JJ wrapped up in the fluffy confines of your bed. You crawled in beside him and turned to face him, your noses just inches apart. You lay there studying each other, neither of you wanting to be the first to break the comfortable silence. 

Finally, JJ cleared his throat, "Thank you."

A sad smile graced your lips, "Don't thank me."

JJ's mind screamed at him to run. He barely knew you, and frankly, didn't like you. He had let you in on the darkest, most vulnerable piece of himself, and the thought alone terrified him. But his body relished in the comfort of you--the comfort of your healing touch and soothing words. There was something so captivating about you that made him want to open himself up completely, and let you read every page of his book. 

You also had a million thoughts racing through your mind. You wanted so badly to plead with him to stay--stay in the safety of your arms, and never return to his broken home. But you couldn't find the words to say this, and you were terrified of overstepping and pushing him away. 

You let out a shaky sigh, and spoke slowly, "If this ever happens again," you both knew the 'if' was a 'when', but you didn't want to admit that, "Or if you just need an escape, please come back here."

JJ knew that wasn't what you really wanted to say, but he feigned ignorance. Instead, he nodded and wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging your closer. JJ pressed his lips against yours softly in a fleeting kiss.

"You're too good to me, Montgomery," he mumbled against you, sending a shiver up your spine. 

You pressed your lips firmly against his once more before turning your body and shutting off the light, leaving you in darkness. You leaned back against him and pressed your back against his front as he wrapped an arm around your waist and rested his chin in the crook of your shoulder. You fluttered your eyes as you relished in the undeniable comfort of his arms. The rhythmic sound of his breathing and the beat of his heart lulled you into a calmness like none you had ever experienced before.

 And while you knew that this was the calm before the storm, you gave yourself to naivety, and slipped from consciousness completely.

[chacharealsmoothwithme]

I'm gonna give u my black brothers hc because i have no one else to share them with:

-they both have a resting bitch face. pure dead stare.

-sarcastic little shits

-sirius face is completely "blank"while regulus has so many freckles

-they both have grey eyes and they don't like change with the light or anything,at best they become darker during thunderstorms

-sirius listens to glam rock and classic rock while regulus listens to indie and rap(not the cringe kind obv)

-sirius wears moon/star earings while reg has sun/star ones,the stars were the same pair they split it

-they don't like spending money but it's because they think they don't need anything (they feel like they're aren't enough to buy stuff for themselves) but they also feel guilty about that because they know they have the money

-sirius is nonbinary/genderfluid and just lives dressing badass,clothes don't have gender

-regulus is trans and feels euphoric wearing evans' shirts because he's like MANLY MAN!1! so yk, (evan is not that but shh)

-they both did ballet and fencing(muggle au)

-they were taught: piano,violin,transverse flute, they also took individual singing lessons and were part of the church's choir

-sirius learned on his own to play the guitar (classic and electric)

-and then he taught reg how to play it

-reg learned on his own how to play the bass and the drums

-they are spooked by the sea but find it fascinating

-sirius had to take his drivers license test twice bc there was a deer in the street and he thought it was prongs (when they told him he pretended it wasn't him but it actually was(moon's idea)) (sirius still thinks it wasn't him)

-regulus loves to drive Sirius' bike and every time he comes back from a ride he pretends to have scratched it by accident and sirius believes him every time

-i almost forgot,sirius has wavy hair while reg's is very curly

-[this is the second thing I'm adding sorry]

they speak: english,french,italian,japanese,german

they also know:latin, ancient greek,and old japanese,plus ancient runes

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 85

Although Weevilsight finally recovers from her attack with a scar, Currentsmoke’s infection begins to fester. Currentsmoke starts to lose hope.

[Image ID: Weevilsight looks at Currentsmoke, saying "You won't die while I'm your cleric!" Under Currentsmoke, it says + FESTERING.]

(Weevilsight: 20, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)

(Currentsmoke: 20, male, caretaker, loving, good climber, skilled toolsmith)

Determined to see their littermates happy, Weevilsight and Anchovystrike arrange for Wolfgaze and Billowhaze to confess their love to each other.

[Image ID: Weevilsight and Anchovystrike watch Wolfgaze and Billowhaze. Under Wolfgaze, it says + MATE: BILLOWHAZE. Under Billowhaze, it says + MATE: WOLFGAZE.]

---

Anchovystrike had been so absorbed in his morning stretches that he didn't notice Weevilsight approach until she groaned dramatically and flopped belly-up onto the sand. The rest of RippleClan continued with the start of their day, walking around the noisy cleric. Anchovystrike knew he was in for it; Weevilsight hadn't even tucked her fur with petals yet.

"This last moon may have been the worst moon of my life," Weevilsight grumbled. "Ow, ow, sand in my eyes." She rolled onto her belly and rubbed her eyes.

"I feel like we've had worse," Anchovystrike hummed, arching his back down in one last big stretch.

"From a larger perspective?" Weevilsight scoffed. "Sure. But I spent the whole night with Paleseed and Currentsmoke, promising Currentsmoke he'd beat his infection. Not to mention, Yarrowclaw is still completely crashed from her 'day' cycle, to put it mildly. Sandhollow hasn't cleared her for patrols, and I'm going to have to live with these scars the rest of my life. What sort of cleric has battle scars?" Weevilsight hung her tail loosely overhead, showing off the criss-crossing scars that blended with her ginger markings.

"I thought you were fine with your scars," Anchovystrike pointed out.

"I said that to cheer up Currentsmoke," Weevilsight huffed, laying her cheek on the warm sand. "It feels like everything's gone wrong, again. I wish our lives would calm down."

"We're only a year old," Anchovystrike laughed. "We have a lot more moons ahead for things to be calm."

"You're surprisingly optimistic," Weevilsight said, sitting up.

"Well, you're right, last moon was awful," Anchovystrike scoffed, "but things are getting better! Sure, Yarrowclaw could hallucinate again, but I talked with her, she's starting to feel better, even if she isn't there yet. You'll help Currentsmoke, and the scars? They're pretty on you." Anchovystrike wished Weevilsight could see the scars through his eyes; the eternal glow that surrounded her made her scars look like brilliant rivers swirling down to the tip of her tail. To him, scars on a cleric seemed fitting. How else could they relate to their patients?

"That's a nice way to see it," Weevilsight sighed, studying her tail. "There is one issue you haven't solved, though."

"Now I'm curious," Anchovystrike purred.

"Troutpool asked Trumpetspore on a date," Weevilsight whispered, laughing under her breath. "Trumpetspore's rejection hurt so much, Troutpool told everyone she was busy with Currentsmoke and hid in the medicine den."

"That was three days ago!" Anchovystrike laughed.

"She's still too embarrassed!" Weevilsight giggled. As the two friends laughed over Troutpool's misfortune, a different set of laughter graced Anchovystrike's ears. Over by the artisan's storage den, Wolfgaze and Billowhaze sat around a drum, the latter showing the former different ways she could hit the instrument to make different sounds. Wolfgaze's paws limply hit the leather top, much to both cats' delight. Their eyes shone bright as Billowhaze continued guiding Wolfgaze through her lesson.

"So we both know Wolfgaze really likes my brother, right?" Anchovystrike purred when he realized Weevilsight was watching the pair as well.

"Oh I've known for a while," Weevilsight chuckled. "When do you think they'll make it official?"

"Well," Anchovystrike pured, kneading the sand, "we could give them a little encouragement."

"Ooo, you have a plan," Weevilsight purred, standing.

"Take Wolfgaze to the gardens," Anchovystrike explained, bounding up, "and I'll come by later with Billowhaze on a 'hunting patrol.' We'll push them in the right direction, give them some time alone, and one of them is bound to say something!"

"You know what?" Weevilsight laughed. "I could use something good today. I'm in. I'll go get a basket, make it look like official business. Hope you enjoy having Wolfgaze as a sister-in-code!" Weevilsight trotted back toward the medicine den, all her dramatic melancholy vanished.

The plan would work, but in that moment, as Anchovystrike watched Weevilsight walk away, he realized something. There was a glow to Wolfgaze's eyes, something beyond her natural star-blessed shine, whenever she thought about Billowhaze. It was something Anchovystrike had teased her about more than once. But the young warrior realized as Weevilsight slipped back into the medicine den that his eyes glowed as well.

They glowed for Weevilsight.

(Anchovystrike: 20, male, warrior, playful, deep StarClan bond)

(Weevilsight: 20, female, cleric, daring, deep StarClan bond)

(Wolfgaze: 20, female, codekeeper, thoughful, connection to StarClan, great speaker)

(Billowhaze: 20, male, historian, loyal, good kit-sitter)

Spurred by this season of love in the air, Ravenweaver confesses to Brightreed and becomes his mate.

[Image ID: Ravenweaver says to Brightreed "You're strong, and you always try your best… why wouldn't I want a relationship with you?" Under her, it reads + MATE: BRIGHTREED. Under Brightreed, it says + MATE: RAVENWEAVER. In the back, Gingerkit and Frostkit watch in the back, with Gingerkit saying "Bleh!" Under Gingerkit, it reads + NEW SKILL: CURIOUS ABOUT HUMANS. Under Frostkit, it says + NEW SKILL: LOVER OF STORIES.]

(Ravenweaver: 20, female, artisan, nervous, den builder, very clever)

(Brightreed: 17, male, warrior, righteous, student of art)

(Gingerkit: 1, male, kit, charming, curious about humans)

(Frostkit: 1, female, kit, quiet, lover of stories)

Stormjump would spend the whole day with Honeybuzz if she could.

[Image ID: Thundergale and Yellowburst watch Stormjump and Honeybuzz. Yellowburst says, "I bet five sunhigh patrols that I'll be an aunt this time next year."]

(Stormjump: 16, female, caretaker, charismatic, incredible cook)

(Honeybuzz: 33, male, cleric, daring, skilled toolsmith, good teacher)

(Yellowburst: 16, female, caretaker, adventurous, good mediator)

(Thundergale: 17, female, teacher, adventurous, good hunter, good speaker)

A patrol finds a kit who escaped from his humans. He takes the name Whitekit and is adopted by Rattlepelt and Wildclaw.

[Image ID: Shrewpaw, Wildclaw, and Rattlepelt face a white kit with yellow eyes. Under the kit, it says NEW PLAYER: WHITEKIT, 2, MALE, SKITTISH, ACTIVE IMAGINATION.]

---

"Songs help us remember a lot of information on one topic," Shrewpaw hummed, signing as he spoke, "but if you're trying to memorize something more complex, like a story, you need to repeat it over and over." Thundergale nodded enthusiastically as Shrewpaw's confidence soared.

"That's everything I've come up with when it comes to teaching methods," Thundergale signed, purring. "You're doing so well! You'll be ready to help me guide training sessions as soon as tomorrow!"

"Even though I'm the only apprentice?" Shrewpaw asked, playfully cocking his head.

"Someone always wants help learning something," Thundergale insisted, sitting taller. "We just make it easier. Let's go home. It's been a long day." A long day was right. Thundergale took Shrewpaw out of camp at sunhigh, and it was already dusk! Not that Thundergale's lessons weren't extremely fun, though. It was like she knew just what Shrewpaw needed to understand the subject at paw. It hardly felt like learning when Thundergale was in charge.

Shrewpaw trotted alongside his mentor through the warm yellow undergrowth. The sun burned through the trees, draining the color from the land. It was like drowning in sunlight. It made Shrewpaw's bright red fur look ginger and turned Thundergale a tree-like shade of brown. It was hard to imagine living anywhere else but that gorgous forest along the salt-speckled coast. Shrewpaw danced as the grass turned to sand and the shipwreck sat illuminated against the horizon. Thundergale laughed and copied her apprentice a few paw-steps.

Camp was always busy around dusk, but it was especially noisy as Shrewpaw and Thundergale passed through the entrance. Half the Clan gathered around Paleseed, Vervaincough, and Cobaltchaser, who were in the middle of some long-winded explanation. The other half hovered near the nursery, either shooed away by Wildclaw or placated by Slushtrail.

"Did I miss something interesting again?" Shrewpaw groaned. Wolverineheart caught his moan from the edge of Paleseed's audience and joined Shrewpaw and Thundergale.

"Good training session?" Wolverineheart purred, signing with her tail swaying high.

"Don't ignore the bear in the den, what's going on?" Thundergale asked, finishing her sister's cockiness with a decisive bat to the ears.

"Paleseed, Vervaincough, and Cobaltchaser were coming back from WheatClan," Wolverineheart eagerly explained, "they were busy dealing with that little skirmish Wildclaw got involved in a few days ago. They're just about to cross the border when they see this little white kit, just scratching at the trees! At first they thought it was one of WheatClan's kits, but no! It was a kittypet! Poor little tom, he was really hungry. They took him back to camp and, oh, Shrewpaw, you're going to love it, go see your mothers, they're in the nursery!" Wolverineheart waved Shrewpaw toward the nursery crowd.

"Is he here?" Shrewpaw asked. He peered through the crowd, trying to follow the light that poured into the nursery.

"Go see!" Wolverineheart laughed. She whipped around Shrewpaw and shoved him toward the nursery. Shrewpaw almost face-planted on the sand, but stumbled onward. He squeezed between Mitespark and Trumpetspore and popped up at the nursery entrance.

"Ma?" Shrewpaw asked as Wildclaw spun, ready to snap at another nosy cat. She immediately paused as she recognized her son.

"Shrewpaw, sorry," Wildclaw chuckled, licking her chest. "You spooked me."

"Wolverineheart told me about a kit?" Shrewpaw asked, glancing into the nursery. Elmsprout and Lavendertwist kept Gingerkit and Frostkit busy while Oilstripe and Downstar sat beside Rattlepelt, who relaxed in a nest covered by her fox pelt.

"I'm glad you're back," Wildclaw purred. "Go inside, Rattlepelt and I want to talk to you." Wildclaw turned back to the crowd of curious kitties and yowled, "Alright, I'm a little sick of this Clan's lack of privacy, don't you have patrols to go on?" Wildclaw ushered RippleClan back as Shrewpaw slipped into the nursery. As soon as they saw Shrewpaw, Gingerkit and Frostkit tried to squirm around Elmsprout's grasp, but Lavendertwist sat on his children (much to their displeasure).

"From what I know about humans," Oilstripe purred to someone hidden behind Rattlepelt, "they don't care about a queen and her kits. I'm not surprised this happened to you."

"Hello?" Shrewpaw called. Oilstripe and Downstar looked behind them. Oilstripe scooted to the side, allowing Shrewpaw closer. Shrewpaw carefully sat between the ginger deputy and Rattlepelt.

Sitting in front of Rattlepelt was a long-furred white kitten. His big yellow eyes buldged out of his skull as he dug into a quickly cooked mouse. He was the messiest eater Shrewpaw had ever seen, with meat clinging to his teeth and splattering at his paws. He ate like he had never eaten before, breathing in the mouse.

"Don't choke!" Rattlepelt laughed. The kit jumped at her voice.

"Are you feeling a bit better now?" Downstar asked softly, loafing.

"Yes Ms. Downstar," the kit gulped, swallowing a huge bite.

"I haven't heard anyone use terms like that since Parsley was alive," Rattlepelt purred, the surprise rippling gently down her back. "You must have been born quite a ways south."

"I think so," the kit said. He licked his lips as he eyed the last portion of the mouse.

"Who are you?" Shrewpaw asked the young kit, laughing despite the way the kit's rips pressed against his fur with a deep breath. Wildclaw entered and wrapped herself over Rattlepelt, laying on her mate like her signature fox pelt.

"My mom just called me White," the kit said.

"We can tell him what you told us if you want to finish eating," Oilstripe insisted, placing her paw on White's back.

"Thank you Ms. Oilstripe," White said quickly before plunging his muzzle back into the mouse.

"Apparently, Shrewpaw," Oilstripe sighed, leaning down to her grandson, "White and his litter were taken from their mother just as they finished weaning. He's not much older than two moons."

"That's too young, though!" Shrewpaw whined. "Thundergale says most kits share a nest with their mother until they're three moons old at least!" Shrewpaw didn't want to imagine what it would have been like to not share a nest with Wildclaw or Rattlepelt at White's age.

"Some humans don't care what a kit needs," Oilstripe sighed. "They can be cruel. These ones took White from his mother and traveled in a monster, all the way to the southern farms. White left as soon as he could, but he hasn't found his mother."

"If they live really far south—" Shrewpaw started, but Rattlepelt gently batted his muzzle. Oh. If White's mother was as far south as Rattlepelt implied, it seemed next to impossible for anyone to find her, let along a kit who clearly didn't know how to hunt properly.

"While we're looking for her," Downstar said, clearing her throat, "we've offered White a home with us. Your mothers, Shrewpaw, have offered to foster him." Foster…

Shrewpaw barely remembered his littermates. He could remember squirming forms writhing alongside him against a ginger belly. Yet those forms faded, one by one, until Shrewpaw's first clear memory settled in his eyes; tucked deep into a pile with Rattlepelt, Wildclaw, Oilstripe, Carnationspeckle, and Downstar. What was having a brother like?

"It took you a while to understand what happened with your mother," Rattlepelt whispered to Shrewpaw. "We don't want to overwhelm White right now. We'll ask around about his mother, but you already know the chance of finding her is slim." Shrewpaw crept up to White as he finally finished his mouse. He licked the last of the meat off his fangs as Shrewpaw sat next to him.

"When I joined RippleClan," Shrewpaw said, trying to ignore the gushing looks of his mothers, "they added onto my name. I was born Shrew, then they named me Shrewkit, and now I'm Shrewpaw. If you're staying with us, you can have a name like that too! We can call you Whitekit."

"Why would I change my name?" White muttered.

"Well, do you want to know a secret?" Shrewpaw whispered. White cocked his head. "I still call myself Shrew sometimes. The Clans have some weird names, but if you pick a name for yourself, no one can take it from you." White grew taller with Shrewpaw's wise words.

"You can call me Whitekit if you want," said the young tom.

"Good to know!" Shrewpaw laughed, bunting Whitekit's shoulder. Whitekit nearly fell over, but laughed along while Shrewpaw wrapped his tail over Whitekit. "Now, what do you think of having an older brother?"

(Shrewpaw: 9, male, teacher apprentice, competitive, never sits still)

(Thundergale: 17, female, teacher, adventurous, good hunter, good speaker)

(Wolverineheart: 17, female, warrior, troublesome, student of science)

(Wildclaw: 77, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor, good fighter)

(Oilstripe: 89, female, deputy, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Rattlepelt: 68, female, artisan, thoughtful, leather artist)

(Downstar: 144, female, leader, wise, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Whitekit: 2, male, kit, skittish, active imagination)

[literallygwenandjinx]

Your Gwen and Hobie dynamic hcs???Canon compliant,self-indulgent,etc!!I see them as either a t4t couple or siblings :] Also polyship them with Miles and Margo ofc

Hmmmm BET

-Hobie wakes up SUPER early to make Gwen pancakes almost every day (they’re her favorite), and he puts a buncha bananas and chocolate chips in them 😋

-MOVIE NIGHTS!!! Every weekend! I can picture Gwen and Hobie staying up till like 1am watching something on Hobie’s TV, Hobie makes popcorn and Gwen usually gets to choose the movie, but when Hobie picks a movie it’s either the goofiest shit you’ve ever seen or some crazy horror shit he picks just to scare Gwen (she secretly loves it though)

-Hobie’s a morning person, but Gwen DEFINITELY isn’t. Hobie would hover over Gwen at like 6am while she’s sleeping and blast an airhorn in her ear while yelling “RISE N SHINE!”

-I feel like Hobie would randomly ruffle Gwen’s hair, not because it’s soft or anything, but because he just wants to mess it up cause he thinks it’s funny 😹

-Ohhh Hobie would TOTALLY let Gwen paint his nails. Probably for a dare or something but I think he’d actually like how it turns out. He’d choose all the craziest color combos and Gwen would be all like “HOLD STILL” as she mischievously giggles and Hobie regrets all of life choices. This whole entire thing could also work the other way around actually (New headcanon: Hobie knows how to paint nails)

-They definitely play Roblox together at like 2am, mostly horror games. I can see both of them screaming at the top of their lungs when they get jumpscared but Hobie would scream at everything even if it’s not a jumpscare and Gwen would just laugh hysterically (Just like my last headcanon, this could also work the other way around)

-Hobie offered to teach Gwen how to play guitar one time and she said yes, so now she takes guitar lessons with him almost every day, and in return Gwen teaches Hobie how to play the drums 😸

-Hobie occasionally plays in the Mary Janes and almost all of them are DOWN BAD for him. Like when Gwen first introduced them to Hobie they all fell in love the second they saw him. Oh and when Hobie can’t play, he comes to their shows and has the proudest smile on his face when he watches Gwen play the drums. <3

-When they’re on missions together, each of them has one AirPod in so they can listen to some music. They have pretty similar music tastes but Hobie mostly listens to punk rock and metal, and Gwen also listens to punk and classic rock. They show each other their favorite bands while they’re swingin’ around.

-Since Hobie’s dimension is set in like the 70’s, he takes Gwen to all sorts of places that don’t exist in Earth-65 anymore. He also takes her to a ton of concerts, cool restaurants, aaand clubs, pubs, and bars. How did they get in you may ask? Hobie has a couple of fake ID’s 😼 (they’ve definitely been kicked out of at least 5 places)

-Gwen steals all of Hobie’s stuff, mostly clothes but it can be anything. Oh, he has a cool pair of shoes? She’s taking them (canon). He has a nice jacket? Snatched. A poster of a band she really likes? BOOM! It’s hers now. She’ll usually leave sticky notes next to the thing she stole so Hobie knows who took it, but he’ll figure out who stole it anyways.

-Gwen stays up late and gushes on about Miles for HOURS to Hobie without even realizing how long she’s yapping for, and Hobie just listens with a smirk on his face.

-They got matching piercings!!! Hobie’s amazing at piercing stuff and has a shit ton of jewelry, so sometimes he lets Gwen borrow some or if it’s REALLY special he’ll give some to her as a gift. And Hobie lets Gwen do wacky shit to his hair, like giving him braids or dying the ends pink so he can match hers. Speaking of which, Hobie helped Gwen dye her hair pink when she first decided she wanted to :3

-They both have a soft spot for animals, specifically cats. If there’s a cat on the street, both of them are stopping whatever the hell they’re doing to go pet that cat. Hobie takes Gwen to cat cafes all the time, or just cat infested areas. Gwen ALWAYS asks if they can keep them, so sometimes Hobie takes a couple stray cats and dogs back to his place so they can get food and shelter. (He’s so sweet guys)

-(WARNING!! very angsty) Sometimes Hobie walks in on Gwen while she’s crying, he immediately gets concerned and always rushes to her to ask what’s going on while he speaks in the gentlest way possible to try and calm her down. Hobie is one of the only people Gwen feels comfortable opening up to, so she tells him things she normally keeps bottled up. Gwen starts rambling on and on about how she really feels while more tears form in her eyes and her voice becomes shaky as she starts to breakdown completely. Hobie then pulls Gwen into a hug, and she clings onto him tightly as she cries into his shoulder, Hobie rubs her back in a soothing way to try and comfort her in any way he can.

-PILLOW FIGHTS!!!!! 90% of the time, Hobie’s the one who starts them. While Gwen is just chilling on the couch or about to go to bed, he’ll just *WHACK* and Gwen fights back and it ends up lasting for like 30 minutes. Oh and I can also imagine them having water gun fights at Hobie’s place.

-Amusement parks. They LOVE amusement parks and arcades, especially Gwen. She’s obsessed with rollercoasters and always asks to go twice, and Hobie is a god at all the arcade games, and he always wins stuff for Gwen. Bonus: One time Hobie won Gwen a baby deer plushie and she named it Miles.

Okayyy I hope you enjoyed these silly headcanons and I’m sorry there’s so many I got a little carried away aauahsjskks but tysm for the ask this was really fun to make!! ^_^

[pedropascalsx]

Sooner. {Frankie Morales x F! Reader.}

Summary: Frankie has been your flight instructor for the past eight months and offers to drive you across state lines to your flying test. The only problem is you get to the hotel and there’s only one bed.

Warnings: Some angst, mutual pining, some flirting, friends to lovers, masturbation, accidentally caught masturbation, strong language, oral (f) receiving, fingering, p in v sex. some fluff.

Word count: 3500 exactly.

Authors note: Happy Valentine’s day to my sweet, LJ! I love you to pieces and I hope you enjoy this fic written for you. @prolix-yuy

“Thank you,” you murmur to Frankie as he effortlessly glides onto the freeway, “I’m so nervous that I’d probably crash trying to get to the damn test.”

His warm chuckle floats in the air as he lightly shrugs his shoulders, “Ava is with her Mom this weekend and I always twiddle my thumbs until she’s back. It’ll be nice to be a little distracted.”

“She’s a lucky girl,” you say with a smile, focusing on the photo of them hanging together hanging from his mirror. She is his double. Curly brown hair and big beautiful brown eyes and that very same dimple that makes an appearance when he smiles or gets a little flustered.

“Trust me I’m the lucky one!” He beamed before lightly squeezing your knee, “And you don’t have to be nervous by the way, you’re an incredible pilot and I’d go as far as saying the best student I’ve ever had. I have nothing but faith that you’ll be incredible. You’ve just got to believe in yourself a little more.”

You giggle quietly at his praise before responding with some of your own, whilst attempting to ignore the way your stomach did somersaults at his touch, “Well, the student is only as good as their master. So thank you.”

He hums back as you fiddle with the stereo of his truck, settling on a station blasting some Whitney Houston and you quietly drum your fingers across the smooth plastic of the dashboard. You sit in a quiet silence for the next hour, enjoying the music and watching the day quietly shift into night and taking in the sights of the sunset playing out in front of you.

“Do you want to find somewhere for dinner before we get to the hotel or order room service? Early start tomorrow. So you need a good meal before bed.”

“It’s up to you.” You insist. “You’re driving so you’re in control, Mr. Morales.”

“There’s a diner about ten minutes ahead.” He says with a large smile spreading across his cheeks. “Prepare yourself for the best pancakes you’ll ever have in your life.” The dimple that makes your heart stutter makes an appearance on his cheek and you chide yourself for the feelings that it stirs up in your chest.

God he’s attractive. Like really attractive. When he first greeted you on your first flying lesson you thought you were going to melt right then and there. And over the past 8 months you’ve found yourself slowly growing attached to him. He quickly became your friend and you started to talk and text outside of lessons but you’d suppressed the deeper feelings that you found yourself having for him out of fear they weren’t returned.

“Pancakes sound great,” you eventually responded as you pulled back from the daydream you’d been sucked into.

You glance back over at him. He’s focusing on the road ahead, his aviators resting on the bridge of his nose, that gorgeous dimple still completely visible and the little grin on his face paired with the gorgeous pink skyline making the perfect background makes your heart flutter. You instinctively reach into your pocket and retrieve your cell phone to take a few pictures and he chuckles loudly in response.

“What are you doing?” he asks with a slight twist of his lips.

“You look… nice,” you reply sheepishly, “And it’s about time you updated your facebook picture. The photo of the fish is getting very old, buddy.”

“You been snooping through my pics?” he asks whilst pulling into a spot in front of diner and you feel your cheeks get hot with embarrassment.

“I-uh..” you start to stammer and he laughs again.

“Relax. I’m just teasing. Plus it’s not like I haven’t had a look through yours.” He admits as he pushes open the driver's door.

You swallow hard at his admission and follow him into the small diner, letting him lead you towards a small booth in the back.

“I caught that fish you know,” he announces as he slides across the leather seat, “A catfish. It’s my tag. Back from my military days. My friends still call me it.”

“Really? Why catfish?” You ask with a smile.

“Whiskery beard,” he says whilst rubbing the adorable patches in his beard, “Never finished puberty.”

“I think the existence of your daughter disputes that.” You giggle back and he laughs with you. “So pancakes?”

“Pancakes.”

You sit back and listen to him share some stories about his days in the military. He briefly talks about an event that happened in South America that made him wake up and really sort out his life. And how the death of one of his friends made him realize that he couldn’t spend the rest of his life skating past all the shit he was drowning in and he checked himself into rehab within 48 hours of being home.

He split amicably with his ex and once he was working full-time again, Ava worked in with him and her mom went back to school to finish up her degree. He was doing better than he ever was and you couldn’t help but feel extremely proud of him.

You insisted on paying the cheque which he reluctantly agreed after you argued it was only fair since he drove here. But he insisted that breakfast would be on him in the morning and you rolled your eyes and tutted loudly as you bounced out towards his truck.

“Hotel is roughly an hour from here,” he announces as he switches on the ignition, “And the flight test centre is maybe fifteen minutes from there. Good location.”

“Let’s go,” you say excitedly as your strap on your seatbelt.

He hums along to the radio as he navigates the roads with ease, you can’t help but steal the occasional glance at him. You think back to those first few weeks and how far you’ve come and how grateful that he was the one to get you here. As difficult as it had been, as distracting as he could be, he was the perfect teacher and you truly hoped he’d stay in contact long after your test was complete.

“You’re very quiet,” he says with an inquisitive tone, “Tired? Or are you nervous about tomorrow?”

“Not tired,” you admit, “But yeah, I'm definitely nervous. Just reflecting and thinking about some things.”

“Easier said than done but try not to overthink. I really mean it when I said you’re an incredible pilot. It’s been a pleasure to teach you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, Frankie.” Your chest feels all warm and fuzzy at the endearment and you remind yourself that he has never once indicated that he sees you more as a friend. Out the window you see that the pink sky has faded into a dark blue and darkness surrounds you on all sides.

Before you realize you’re there Frankie is pulling into the very full parking lot of the hotel and driving into what looks like the only free space.

“Sold out Lady Gaga concert a few miles from here,” you inform him as he raises an eyebrow at the amount of cars around.

He grabs both bags from the back and tuts at you when you try to wrestle yours from him.

*

“But we booked this room months ago,” you say trying to hide the upset in your voice, “I have the confirmation right now.”

“I know,” the receptionist says without a care in the world, “It was double booked. You booked on our website and they booked it on our partner site before we were able to update.”

“So if we booked it first…why isn’t it our room?” Frankie asks before you have a chance.

“We reviewed the booking. They got the two bed suite as there are four of them and two of you. We were able to move you into a smaller room and we will refund the difference to the card it was booked with.”

“Fine,” you say with a reluctant sign, “If sharing one room is okay with you?” You turn to ask Frankie.

“As long as you don’t snore.” He quips back.

The receptionist checks you in and hands you both a keycard before rattling off the fire exits and the number for reception if anything is needed. You follow Frankie into the elevator and let out a sigh.

“We didn’t need any fancy hotel suite,” he says with a shrug, “Shower and sleep. That’s all we’re here for.”

You nod in agreement and exit the elevator, heading straight towards your assigned room.

You swipe the keycard and take a few steps into the room, peering into the bathroom on your immediate left before making your way into the bedroom and you feel your heart stop .

“Only one bed.” He murmurs from behind you.

“I’ll take the couch,” you reply with a sharp nod of your head.

“Like hell you will,” he spits out from behind you, “You’re not going to get a half decent night's sleep on that shitty thing and you need to be

well rested for tomorrow's test. I’ll take the couch and I'll let you pay for breakfast in the morning. No arguments.”

You turn on your heel and roll your eyes at him, “Fine. I’m so sorry, Frankie.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart,” he says with a fleeting touch of your cheek, “It's just one of those things. We’re adults. We can cope with it. Do you mind if I take the first shower?”

“Go for it,” you say as you take your bag from him, “I’m gonna order a few drinks from room service as room temperature water doesn’t appeal to me and switch on the TV.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a Dr Pepper,” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.

“Got it.”

The sound of the shower being switched on makes you groan. You had chosen a suite because the bedrooms were on opposite ends to each other and no matter how hard you try not to be, you almost find yourself extremely affected after being in close proximity to him. So you figure now is your chance.

Arousal had been pooling in your panties since you first climbed into his truck several hours ago. The guilt you felt at needing release with him just a few feet away being beaten out by the aching in your core.

You comfortably place yourself on the centre of the bed and hike your dress up over your hips, dipping your fingers into your panties and dragging some of your slick up towards your clit before circling it gently.

Your mind drifting to the thought of his hands. His large rough and capable hands. Honestly you couldn’t count the amount of times that you’d lost focus in lessons because you’d been so distracted by watching them and wondering if they’d be as skillful in other ways.

You lifted your hips from the bed and quickly removed your panties before going back to rubbing your clit, letting his name quietly fall from your lips as you did so.

*

Frankie switched on the shower letting it heat up as he tidied up his facial hair, clearly up the loose scraggly hairs in his head and trimming his moustache so it didn’t tickle his top lip so much.

He lifted off his shirt and let it fall to the floor before scanning the room for some towels. “Shit,” he murmured as he realized they must be in the bedroom. He forgoed putting his shirt back on and reached for the door handle and turns it slowly, his cheeks burning red at the unexpected sound of you moaning his name as the door cracked opened.

*

“Frankie,” you mewl as the tips of your fingers rub your bundle of nerves a little quicker, your eyes slamming closed as the pleasure builds until you’re almost at the edge.

“Fuck.” Frankie grunts as he watches your slick fingers disappear into your cunt.

You freeze and groan out loud. An apology lingers at the tip of your tongue and before you can croak it out, you feel the bed dip beneath you as he kneels on the bottom.

“You were thinking about me? I heard you moan my name” he says as you slowly open your eyes with your fingers still buried deep inside your pussy.

“Yeah,” you admit before biting down on your lip, “I’m so sor-.”

“Don’t apologize,” he orders before reaching down and pulling your hand away from your pussy, “Only reason I wanted to shower so quickly is because I’ve been half fucking hard all day because of you. Been needing to jerk off so badly.”

Slowly he pushes one of his thick fingers inside of your needy pussy, “So fucking tight,” he snarls as he starts to pump it in and out. “Jesus. The amount of times I’ve fucked my fist after a lesson because you’ve driven me insane, baby.”

You keen and clench down around him at the new endearment, and he lets out a soft chuckle, “You like that huh, baby?” he asks with a grin on his face. “Fuck, can I taste you?”

“Please,” you squeak out a little too quickly and you squeal as he immediately buries his face in pussy. His finger remains inside of you as he licks at your clit, lapping at you like a man starved. Slowly he resumes pumping his finger as he sucks your clit between his lips, doing something magical with his tongue as you writhe underneath.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, an endless stream of pleasure filled moans echoing around the room before you lose control, “Wanted you since I first saw -ahhh- you.”

He groans into your pussy, and you’re certain you feel his mouth curl up into a smile before he resumes his delicious assault on your bundle of nerves and sliding in a second finger.

“Thought about your hands,” you admit before moaning his name. His fingers start rubbing up something wonderful inside you. It doesn’t take long until he works you up to that edge, your mouth unable to spill any word that isn’t his name up until you choke out that you’re gonna cum and that’s when he decides to increase his already earth shattering efforts and you clamp around his fingers so hard that you’re certain it must hurt.

“So fucking tight,” he grits out against your pussy, his moustache tickling your overstimulated bundle of merced as he does do. Slowly he withdraws his fingers from inside of you and brings them up to his mouth, watching you watch him with wide eyes as he sinks them into his mouth. Sucking them clear of your slick and groaning in delight as he does so.

“Fuck,” you moan as he pulls them out of his mouth, “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah,” he asks as he runs his fingers through your slit, “This pretty little pussy all needy for my cock?”

“Please,” you beg as he presses his thumb against your clit and draws a few lazy circles, “I need it.”

“I think you can ask nicer than that, baby.” He teases with a grin.

“Please, Frankie,” you moan as he works your bundle of nerves, “Please give me your cock.”

“Good girl,” he coos as he pulls his thumb away, “You wanna ride me? Bounce up and down on my dick whilst telling me those thoughts you’ve been having about my hands?”

“Yes,” you gasp as he shifts off the bed and starts to undo his pants. Pulling his boxers off at the same time and chuckling at the gasp you let out at the sight of him.

Even he’d admit that he’s impressive, thick, uncut and long. “Take off your dress and come take a ride,” he orders before sitting himself up against the headboard.

You comply immediately, stepping off the bed and ripping off your sundress and freeing yourself of your bra.

You straddle him slowly and he pulls you into a possessive kiss, the taste of you lingering on his mouth as he tongue battles against yours. One of his hands guides your hips and he positions himself so you can sink down onto him.

“Frankie,” you moan as he stretches you open. Slowly you sink down inch by inch. His rich tone fills your ears as he gives you endless praises as you fill yourself with him. His cock throbs inside of you as he stretches out your walls. He waits patiently for you to get accustomed to the size of him, giving you gentle kisses and more praises. You slowly start to move, making sure not to rush the pace. His hands explore your body as you begin to find your rhythm.

“Tell me,” he orders, “Tell me what you were thinking when you should have been listening?”

“Frankie,” you moan as his hand slaps across your ass, “So many -fuck- so many things. I-I wanted to drop to my knees, suck your cock whilst you were in the pilot seat.”

“Yeah? What else?”

“Thought about you slipping those thick fingers into my panties and making me cum as I recited what every button on the panel is for. Thought about you fucking me in hangar before and after every lesson.”

“You should have said something,” he grunts before bringing his hand down on your ass again and moving it across your hip to make you move faster. “If I knew you wanted me too, I would have fucked you ages ago.”

“Didn’t realize you wanted this too,” you admit as he grinds up against that spot inside of you again. “Gonna cum,” you garble as he starts to fuck up inside of you, taking control and making sure to hit that spot everything. Your whole body stiffens as you clamp down around him, pleasure consuming your every sense as you come hard on his cock.

He wastes no time switching the position when you’re coming down from your high, guiding you down on your back and placing your leg over his shoulder so he can fuck into you even deeper.

“Give me one more and then I'll cum,” he grits out as he thrusts in and out of you, his thumb finding your clit again as he does so. “So fucking pretty,” he spits out as he watches you writhe beneath him. “Feel so fucking perfect.”

His pace is hard and fast and like nothing you’ve experienced before, the thickness of him still makes you gasp as he continues splitting you open. “Rub your clit for me,” he orders as he pulls his thumb away and places that hand on your other hip, your finger snakes down your stomach and you play with your bud of pleasure as directed, “Such a good girl,” he grunts out as your walls flutter around his throbbing cock.

“Gonna cum,” you choke out again as your third orgasm threatens to sweep through you, “Frankie,” you manage to mumble as it washes through you. His pace getting even faster and he fucks you through

your orgasm.

“Where?” he snarls as his pace gets a little sloppy.

“IUD. Fill me up,” you beg from under him.

“Yeah? You want me to fill up this perfect pussy? Maybe I’ll do it again in the morning as well. Have my cum dripping out of you during your test.”

“Come for me,” you plead as he continues to shred up inside of you.

You clench around him hard and he lets go with a grunt of your name, you cunt milks him dry with each thrust. His lips capture yours one more time before he pulls out and rolls over next to you.

“That was… wow,” he says with a chuckle before kissing your shoulder gently.

“So much better than just my fingers,” you reply with a giggle.

“God, if I’d have known sooner,” he says before wiping his forehead, “Couldn’t see a girl like you going for a guy like me.”

“What?” you ask completely bewildered, “Frankie, you’re fucking gorgeous. I’ve wanted to fuck you from day one, I’m serious.”

“Probably best that we waited until I’d finished teaching you,” he says after a few minutes of comfortable silence and before getting up.

“Going to switch off the shower, and get something to clean you up with” he says sensing your confusion, “We can shower in the morning.”

He runs the washcloth under the shower before running the rag across his cock, wets the rag again and switches the shower off. You’re still lying patiently as he rounds the bed and he gently runs the cloth through your folds. “Get into bed, baby,” he orders and he throws the cloth onto the dresser, and climbs in beside you.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, “Thank fuck for double bookings,” he murmurs into your ear and you giggle in response.

Sleep comes quickly and comfortably. More comfortably than it had in a while.

[holly-fixation]

Holly, if each of the Firsts played instruments, what would they play?

Sephiroth, due to Shinra, would only be allowed to learn the piano. It's dignified and made for solos. His stand alone status as a hero on the battlefield would have to be mirrored with his instrument. He'd be quite good at it, and he might have perfect pitch from Jenova's mimicry abilities. It takes many years but he could play almost any song by ear.

Genesis would play the trumpet and there is no arguing this. He knows he needs attention and by the goddess will this instrument provide him with it. He cannot be ignored. He cannot be quiet. He cannot be stopped. Solos are his absolute favorite. (And in my experience, trumpet players LOVE to talk).

Looking at Angeal practically, growing up in a poor household, he wouldn't have many options. He'd be stuck with percussion. A pair of drumsticks and an old bucket in the backyard would have to be enough until he got a real job. He wouldn't be able to read music, there's no way lessons would be financially possible either. But he'd get pretty good at improvising, and occasionally have a jam session with Genesis. It took a while to buy and learn an actual drum set, but in private sessions, Sephiroth would join them too.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

Hello. It’s me, anonymous (yes. I am the person who submitted the torchbearer request. That was amazing by the way! You’re an amazing writer!).

I feel bad asking for another TØP one shot (another Josh one on top of that), but I was wondering if you could do a fluffy one where Josh teaches the reader to play the drums a little bit everyday after soundcheck for the Clancy tour, but they don’t tell Tyler (no reason. They just want to mess with him). You can end it however you want, but I think it would be cute Tyler accidentally interrupts a cute moment Josh and the reader are having.

You don’t have to follow this exactly (or at all), I just think it’s cute. Only if you want to of course.

Drum lessons - Josh Dun x Reader

Pairing: Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: None! Super fluffy <3

A/N: Dude I love tøp and have been waiting for someone to just throw requests my way so NEVER feel bad for requesting tøp. They’re my main fandom anyways and no one has been requesting them so ily 🤟 I'd love to assign you an anon emoji so I know who my anons are so let me know which one you want next time you request. And keep requesting! I write for both Josh and Tyler (and I love Josh a lot so keep them coming!)

I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d watched Josh play drums and wondered how on earth he managed to get each of his limbs to move at different speeds. I’d played guitar before, and I understood how piano worked, but drums just left me clueless. The boys had been practising for the Clancy tour for a few days, and it was the last day before we travelled to Denver. Tyler had gone to get changed and shower before driving home, but Josh and I stayed behind to talk to Mark and film some stuff. The red drum kit sat alone on the stage. I stared at it before sitting behind it and holding the sticks.

“Look at you!” Josh laughed. I smiled brightly at him. “Well if you’re gonna be behind the kit at least play me something.” I hit the snare, kick, and cymbals making a loud (and awful) sound. I burst out laughing, knowing it sounded terrible yet I was thoroughly enjoying myself. 

“I should replace you as the drummer shouldn’t I?” I grinned. He walked up behind me, holding me in a backwards hug. Pressing his lips to my cheek, he whispered “Not quite.” I looked around to see the crew were all gone. “I could teach you though.” He had to be joking. Yeah, I could play guitar and was interested in what Josh did, but he was crazy to think I had the coordination even to play something basic. 

“Haha funny,” I smirked, putting the sticks down and getting up. 

“No, seriously,” he followed quickly behind me as I grabbed my stuff and headed to our car. “It would be something cool for us to do together on tour. Tyler normally leaves after soundcheck to hang with Jenna and the kids. We’d have time.” He was right. I really did want to learn to play drums; they’d always fascinated me. “Come on… it would be fun,” Josh enticed, getting into the car. 

“Yeah, okay,” I nodded, “let’s do it.” 

The first ‘session’ was a disaster. He’d attempted to get me to do a ‘basic’ drum beat he called some complicated name I’d forgotten the name of by the time I sat down. 

“No, no, like this.” He hit one of the drums before stopping to let me try. I’d just stayed to get it before we were told to get off stage. “You’ll get it next time y/n, trust me,” Josh reached for my hand and led me down the halls of the venue. 

“Why don’t we just choose a pilots’ song and you teach me that? Surely there’s an easy one?” I asked. He perked up in excitement. 

“Yeah, that’s a great idea. Routines isn’t too hard, we could even get out up on stage once you get it down,” he smiled. There was no way on earth that would ever happen. 

“Sure Josh, sure,” I rolled my eyes. 

A few sessions later I was starting to get the handle of it. Josh would play the track on his phone and tell me which drums to hit and when until I remembered what to do. 

“Kick, snare, kick, kick, kick, snare. Oh, and remember to keep hitting the high hat the whole time.” I continued to play the song while Josh air drummed and Tyler’s voice played in the background. “Yes! There you go!” I flashed him a smile as I hit the last drumbeat in the song. Josh snuck up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his lips to mine. I kissed him back, cupping his jaw and smiling into the kiss. Josh’s baseball cap brushed against my forehead as we pulled away. I pull it off him and put it on backwards, just like him. 

“Drums are actually kinda fun.”

“Of course they are. I told you, you could do it,” he still held me close in his arms, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” I brushed one of his loose curls out of his face, wondering how lucky I was to have him. He turned his head into my hand, pressing his lips to my palm. “You’re my favourite person.” The curtains backstage ruffled as Tyler stepped out onto the stage. 

“Josh you’re still practicing? I thought we finished soundcheck,” he shouted, running across the venue to the B-stage drum island. “We already did Routines.” Tyler was dressed in his first tour outfit, holding the Clancy mask in his hand. Josh rested his head in the crook of my neck as he looked at Tyler. “Oh shoot, sorry,” Tyler smiled awkwardly, realizing the position we were in, “I didn’t realise you were uh… what was it you were doing?” I waited for Josh to say something, but he stayed quiet. Tyler waited patiently for either of us to answer the question. “Wait, was y/n playing?” A more confident smile spread across his face. Josh sat up and nodded eagerly at Tyler.

“Yep, I taught her the song, she’s amazing isn’t she?” 

“Yeah, I genuinely thought you were Josh with that hat and the drumming over the speakers,” Tyler said, sitting down on the b-stage just next to the drum kit. “You know, it would be cool to have you on stage together playing.” I knew this was coming. I could practically feel the smirk grow on Josh’s face. “And I’m guessing he’s already tried to convince you. I’m sure we can set that up, the fans would go crazy,” he rested his head on his hands, staring up at the roof of the venue. I placed the drumsticks back into their storage cup before getting up from the kit and sitting in front of Josh on the floor. He nudged me, trying to bring my attention to the idea of playing on stage. 

“I-uh… I don’t think it’s for me, you know. You guys perform in front of massive crowds and given that it took me 3 weeks to talk to Josh after we properly met, my anxiety could never,” I pulled at the sleeves of my sweater nervously. 

Tyler smiled at me, knowingly, “I get it, it takes a lot to perform in front of people every night.” I nodded, glad he understood my situation. 

“Just know that I can make it happen if you want it to,” Josh smiled. 

“Of course you can.”

//

Please submit any requests y'all have! I love to write so let me know if you've got any!

[ewyband]

EWY BIG Q&A

hi!! recently i did a q&a on instagram about SLAD. unfortunately (or fortunately?) there were too many questions to answer purely on instagram stories without spamming. here's the ones i couldn't answer on instagram, answered here!

MERLOT, both in terms of my favourite composition and performance

my partner and i were on a break whilst they were studying abroad ("we're only on month 1 of 4"). I just kinda word vomited my feelings. I was feeling pretty depressed at the time I wont lie.

yes i DID!!! this EP was MADE for fun. i wrote the songs specifically to make fun songs to play live. (aside from HOLLOW DRUG)

"And I could be displaced from my home And it could be seen on all your phones Is it real? Or is it fake? Look close, do my arms look like legs?"

probs the most lyrically dense I've been?? i'm not sure.

first of all, thank you so much!! second, some songs i write it all in one day but others can take a week or so before i'm fully happy with how its sounding. that being said, i always end up changing something before recording (usually around a month after writing, but in the case of MERLOT, that was recorded only a week after writing).

if i had to just name one, it'd be Nirvana. I wrote a 3000 word essay on In Utero for uni and that genuinely inspired me to make these songs. I really loved how Nirvana performed and I thought 'man, if only I had songs like that where I'd have an excuse to go crazy' other influences would include Jeff Rosenstock (my #1 fav artist) and PUP (greatest live show I've ever been to) btw, thank u sm!!

yes,,, very much

unfortunately i havent learnt proper scream technique so all of my screams were done at the very very end of my recording sessions. i think it worked out because that meant i had a lot of pent up frustration

i will start by saying my uni lets me hire out all of these microphones for free (if you don't count the student loan) vocals: SM7b & RE20 (only on sociopathic leech) guitar: AKG C414 matched pair (acoustic and electric) bass: my takes were originally done with an RE20, pretty sure fern just DI'd drums: Audix DP7 + SM57 (for hi-hat) + C414 for room mic's

i'll try get this done tomorrow!

i was in a guitar lesson at uni and we were talking about chromatics in the blues scale. my guitar teacher suggested i try to make a riff using the blues scale and particularly the chromatic part. that riff ended up being the middle 8 section of RIGHTS TO MY WRONGS. the rest of the song basically acted as a vessel to transport this breakdown middle 8 section. hopefully it doesn't come across that way !!!!!! but that was the main idea.

it felt very natural. i'll probably continue to go this direction in my future releases.

its mainly a reference to SOCIOPATHIC LEECH! 'i could beat you with a bat'. i just wanted something that felt visceral and angry and i feel like izzie really captured that.

yes and no! brett romnes is a super nice guy and very fun to work with. i obviously had my own mixes so he could see what i preferred and essentially made it better. i think there ended up being 4 drafts before we reached a final master.

these were my original mixing notes! i think the only thing that really got lost in translation was i added some really subtle vocal distortion at the end of HOLLOW DRUG in my original mix. in the end, i feel empowered by brett because he made it sound like what i felt it should sound like in my head (DOES THIS SENTENCE MAKE SENSE!?)

after i wrote SOCIOPATHIC LEECH and RIGHTS TO MY WRONGS, i was like 'okay, this is the style we're going for, lets do some sort of project in this particular style' i was pretty dead set on an EP since i'd just done an album. so to answer your question, yes and no!

i wish i could put something significant here. im sure theres some psychologist out there who could tell me that the song represents something about me. i was feeling alienated at the time, hopefully this helps? "confess your sins to the crowd, no-one can hear you when you're talking so loud" is definitely about my frustrations with song meanings though

hi mikey!

this person was the GM for a cyberpunk TTRPG game i played in. i wanted to write a cyberpunk themed album at one point but i guess that one merlot line is the closest we'll get.

i have semi answered this question but I WANTED TO WRITE SONGS THAT WERE FUN TO PLAY LIVE !!!!! and i think it worked out in the end

THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO WROTE IN !!! MY ASKBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!!!

[soaps-mohawk]

hey pook!!! how've you been?

this is a little self-indulgent, but i was wondering what musical talents you think the boys would have, if any at all; because i can play a bunch of instruments at quite a low level, but i'm primarily a bassist (electric) and a vocalist!! i also know barry sloane has a band and that comes up in my mind at least once a day

kyle gives me piano vibes, for some reason. he's good with his hands!! he's got piano hands. i also think it'd be funny for simon to play something totally obscure like a harmonica. john i can see vividly as a guitarist, bass and electric, just because barry sloane suits it so much. johnny i think would love a bit of bass, or maybe the drums. bass is the best instrument (i'm biased because i play it)!!! i think at least one of them can sing, i just don't know who i'd pick (but definitely johnny in the shower, i know he's got a good pair of lungs on him)

anyways, lots of love!!! hope you're doing alright

-🪐

Hi love!!! this is like super late but I haven't been sleeping well so the energy levels are like nonexistent so focus and brainpower are at an all time low.

Johnny is definitely the kind of person that can kind of sing, he's not like good at it necessarily but he can carry a tune when he tries. Problem is, he doesn't try and sings loudly and constantly just randomly. Claims it helps him focus. Definitely a drums guy. Again, loud and takes a ton of energy.

Kyle I also think can sing, but he just kind of casually does it and sounds good, but tell him that and he'll brush you off lol. Only sings in like the car and occasionally when he's doing things if he's got a song stuck in his head. He probably took piano lessons as a kid and has that muscle memory for a few songs, but he's forgotten a lot of it.

John definitely gives guitar vibes. Can pick up a guitar and strum a little tune. Probably played a lot when he was younger. He grew up in the 90s so he probably listened to a lot of rock and grunge music, and I could see him having a rebellious stage in his early teens.

Simon plays the triangle. Definitely the guy that you rope into joining the band just because 😂 He has the look but no musical talent whatsoever lol. More of a music listener than anything.

[respectthepetty]

Cutie (Colored) Pie

The Colors Award for Most Consistent Color Coding across Seasons of a Series goes to Cutie Pie's Lian and Kuea. They are color-coded boys in love, and their tale is the epitome of Champagne Problems as one Rich Boy tries to love another Rich Boy.

Lian is a Blue Boy who is loyal, stable, and new money.

Kuea is a Red Rascal who is passionate, spontaneous, and old money.

Kuea's best friend is Diao who is a Yellow/Orange Oddity.

Diao is in love with his Red Rascal guardian, Yi, who also happens to be Lian's best friend and business partner.

Indulgent Daddy Yi (who is the love of my life) is a Red Rascal trying to change to a Blue Boy, so he won't allow himself to openly admit he has feelings for Diao since he feels responsible for Diao.

Because he is a Red Rascal, but best friends with a Blue Boy, he usually gets put in the middle of Lian and Kuea's disagreements since he understands Kuea's hangups but knows Lian's true feelings.

The couple's issues stem from Kuea not being his true Relaxed Red Rascal self who wears jeans and T-shirts because he fears his Business Blue Boy, who wears suits all day every day, won't love him, so he pretends to be a Business Blue Boy too.

Kuea has tried to covered up his red since they were kids because their families arranged their marriage at birth and their families expect them to be compatible.

But Lian knows about Kuea's true colors since he grew up with Kuea.

Lian just wants Kuea to be honest with him and shows his love for Kuea by wearing his color.

Because he knows he is dealing with a real Red Rascal who sneaks out and keeps secrets.

So he encourages Kuea to embrace his color around him by hinting he knows Kuea's secrets, like by buying him a red drum set so Kuea can continue his musical ambitions in his new home.

But they are still at odds because neither truly feels good enough for the other.

Even though they love each other, which the color exchange proves, Kuea questions why Lian wants to be with him, and Lian can't understand why Kuea hides his true self from Lian, mostly because he feels like he, a man of new money, needs to live up to the family name and history he will inherit when he marries Kuea.

Kuea can't cook nor can he clean, yet Lian still wants to give him a ring, so Kuea thinks Lian is doing all of this due to obligation and pity when he finds out that his family is going broke, and Lian is basically getting them out of debt.

Kuea has to decide if he wants to put all their secrets out in the open and let the world know his real color, or if he wants to remain hiding himself and all the reasons he believes Lian and him won't work out.

He decides to be honest in his red bow tie, and in the process, he rejects Lian's proposal AT HIS DAD'S BIRTHDAY while he finally expresses all of his fears. Indulgent Daddy Yi steps in again with his boyfriend to help these two sort their differences out.

They reconcile after realizing that the love they have for each other isn't based on lies or coming from a sense of duty and decide to wait until Kuea finishes school before they get married.

Their friends and all the club serve as witnesses to their love, including the dark versus light color-coded Brooding Boy and Heavenly Human Nuer and Syn. Yes. We had THREE color-coded pairs!

Because Kuea is finally comfortable in their relationship, he carries Lian's love and color into his internship after only wearing red at school.

Kuea graduates with Lian by his side.

And they begin to plan their wedding.

They finally get married by Perth Gemini Jay after the perfect wedding that Poppy Foei planned gets ruined. Yes, Perth and Poppy were in this show.

And Kuea becomes an idol in Korea. Don't ask.

Bless this color-coded love mess fest.

I look forward to seeing if Indulgent Daddy Yi can change his color in Naughty Babe or if he will learn a similar lesson as Kuea and let his true color shine.

[bobfloydsbabe]

*bangs down the door* I NEED to know songwriter!Bob and Piper's first impressions of each other

Also, hi, I love you, hope you day was good!

Your wish is my command, my darling Mo. Love you too!

PICTURE IT

Bob Floyd is a lanky, slightly awkward 18-year-old kid walking into his first songwriting class at college, and he immediately spots the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. She has long brown hair that looks reddish in certain light, and he can't quite tell from where he's stopped in his tracks by the door, but her eyes are big and expressive. She's sitting towards the front, so he sits towards the back.

It's an introductory lesson at first, but he watches her talk to the people next to her, and her laugh is like music to his ears. He's enamored and he doesn't even know her name. A few classes in, the professor sets the first assignment and of course he's paired with the girl he's been lowkey obsessed with for weeks.

She introduces herself as Piper and he's sold. If he liked her from a distance, getting to know her is the easiest thing in the world. She's easy to talk to, they work well together, and they end up getting top marks on their first assignment. They become the best of friends and Bob tries so hard not to be in love with her, but making her laugh is his favorite thing and being around her makes him feel more comfortable with himself. It's hard to be her friend when all he can think about is kissing her.

Piper doesn't really notice Bob until that first assignment. Sure, she's seen the cute boy with the dorky glasses walk in and out class, and Natasha mentioned his name is Bob because she has a class with his roommate. He introduces himself as Robert, and she can't help but notice his ears turning red and how a flush travels down his neck. Watching him play the drums is the first time she's truly attracted to him—turns out he's not nearly as gangly as he first looks. She shakes off that attraction, though, chalking it all up to a glib.

Piper instantly likes him, and he comes across as attentive and caring. He makes her laugh, and she admires his dedication to songwriting and his wealth of knowledge about music and instruments.

If you didn't know better, you'd think it was love at first sight for Piper too, but it's not. He's just her friend until he becomes her best friend, and then the pining starts about 10 years down the line. They're both going to pissed when they realize how much time they've wasted.

this was so much longer than intended and idk if it even makes sense. i hope it does.