#recently I feel very… determined to get my life together

[msmorningstaarr]

guy next door | joel miller x oc (angie reed) | chapter I

ao3 | masterlist

summary: During the summer of 2003, Angie had recently moved into her parent’s new home in Austin at their guest house to have a fresh start after a nasty break up with her fiancé. Her new neighbor, Joel Miller, is more than happy to make her feel welcome to the neighborhood.

pairing: joel miller x female oc (angie reed)

tags: fluff, long fic, romance, slight angst eventually, oc has no physical description, oc is early 20s joel is late 20s, eventual smut, slow burn, mentions of infidelity, no outbreak au!, 2003 au!, soft joel, good daddy joel, sarah going into her teenage dirtbag phase, trust issues, domestic fluff, protective joel, eventual sex,

w.c: 5.6k

a.n.: so i’ve post it before but somethings were really shitty and i figured i needed to change somethings in my writing. i really hope you guys like it as much as i liked writing it. likes, comments and reblogs are not mandatory but very appreciated! 💖

“Shit…” Sarah stared at herself in the mirror, eyes wide with shock. It had happened. She bit her lip, trying desperately to think of a plan, but her mind was blank. There, on the back of her white shorts, was a red stain, impossible to ignore, especially as she was getting ready for a neighbor’s pool party. She was alone, with her dad and uncle likely out grabbing beers somewhere before the evening feast they were all supposed to attend. But even if they’d been there, Joel and Tommy would have been of no help in this situation at all.

Sarah sank onto the bathroom floor, clutching her stomach as she started to cry in confusion and a certain desperation. She had no mother to explain exactly what periods were, which pads to wear or simply comfort her in this experience. The cramps twisted hard in her abdomen, and waves of panic surged over her. Glancing back at the mirror, she put her hands over her face, already feeling defeated as she looked for some practical way to cover the growing stain. In a flash of impulse, she grabbed an old sweater from her laundry basket, tying it around her waist.

Peeking out the window, Sarah spotted a young woman across the street, carrying some boxes in front of the guest house inside the property, next to the main house. The woman looked alone and with luck, she might be kind enough to help. Sarah took a shaky breath and headed out, trying to stomp confidently but having her body allowing her no more than a slow walk outside of the house, while the girl carried the last box upstairs to her home, closing the door without seeing Sarah.

Across the street, Angie wiped the sweat from her forehead, her messy bun barely containing her damp hair as she moved the last of the boxes inside. Her parents had bought this property in Austin to be closer to her during a rough patch and to settle into a quieter life in the suburbs. Today’s scorching Texas heat seemed almost punishing, making her feel as if this exhausting day would never end. Inside, hills of boxes and scattered bubble wrap covered every corner of her new home. All she wanted was a cold shower before unwinding and unpacking in peace.

This move to Austin was supposed to be a fresh start. Angie’s engagement had ended bitterly, shattering her dreams of a future with Trey. She’d pictured marriage, a family, a life together — until he drifted away, leaving her for someone else under the cheap excuse he had to focus on his engineering career. Her parents had been nothing but supportive, and when she finally agreed to their plan to move closer, they wasted no time making it happen, but still threw some words along the line of ‘he’ll fall in line soon and will ask you back’, Angie, however, seemed determined to let Trey go once and for all. Now, standing amid all these boxes, Angie reminded herself that maybe, just maybe, this change would be good.

She let the cool water from the shower wash over her, sighing as the day’s stress melted away. The sweat and grime were replaced with the soft, clean scent of soap. She was drying off and feeling lighter when a sudden, persistent knock sounded at her door. Wrapping herself in a towel, she walked to the door, slightly annoyed.

“Mom, I said I don’t–” she began, opening the door, but paused when she saw a young girl standing there. The girl’s face was flushed, her fingers fidgeting nervously over her belly. She looked no older than thirteen. Angie raised her eyebrows, slightly concerned.

“Oh, hi sweetie,” she said gently, leaning against the doorframe.

“H-hi… I’m Sarah,” the girl stammered as she looked down, clearly embarrassed.

“How can I help you, kiddo?” Angie asked, folding her arms, her voice softening.

“I… I’m having… issues,” Sarah muttered, glancing down, her dark skinned cheeks turning pink. Angie paused, sensing what the problem might be but waiting for Sarah to say it herself.

“Issues?” Angie asked, tilting her head with a gentle smile.

“Yeah…” Sarah bit her lip, hesitating. “Girl issues?”

“You got your period, huh?” Angie asked, her voice warm with understanding. She smiled and rolled her eyes in sympathy. “Come on in, honey. I’m Angie, by the way.”

Sarah’s face lit up with relief, though her eyes still held a trace of sadness and uncertainty. “Thank you,” she whispered, grateful for the kindness of this stranger who had quickly become her lifeline.

“Don’t mind the mess, ‘just moved in,” Angie walked towards her bedroom as she loudly spoke, finding some tanktop and shorts to wear after showering herself.

“No troubles.” Sarah replied, standing still, once she was scared she would leave some stain in Angie’s couch. As soon as Angie returned, Sarah peeked at the older girl carrying a bag and having a towel wrapped around her head.

“Did your mom ever talk to you about periods?” She asked, placing the pink small bag over the table. Sarah narrowed her eyes, feeling an involuntary urge to cry as she heard the word “mom”. She never gave much thought to her mom or the fact she left her and Joel to live a dutiless life, but this new change in her body brought her new emotions that Sarah couldn’t fathom of where it came from. Her eyes teared up, triggered by that simple sentence and Angie looked at the child, concerned she said something she wasn’t supposed to.

“Oh, honey,” Angie murmured, realizing she had touched a nerve. She placed a comforting hand on Sarah’s shoulder, guiding her to the couch, where they sat together. “I’m so sorry if I said something that hurt you,” she said softly. “Look, why don’t we start by going through a few basics? I brought some things that might help. This little guy,” she said, pointing to a pad. “is going to be your new best friend for a few days each month. It might seem strange at first, but everyone’s been through it. I’ll walk you through how to use it. And, just so you know, cramps and weird feelings can come with the territory, too. That’s what these tablets are for, they’ll help with the stomach aches.”

Sarah’s eyes flickered to the chocolate bar, and Angie chuckled, nudging it towards her. “Chocolate helps too. I promise.”

A faint smile crossed Sarah’s lips, and she reached for the bar, unwrapping it slowly. “Thanks,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“No problem,” Angie replied, her tone light. “Periods can be damn bad, especially the first time. But once you get the hang of it, you’ll see it’s just a part of life.”

Sarah took a deep breath, her gaze focused on the pad as she tried to ignore the ache in her stomach. Angie handed it to her, explaining how it would attach to her underwear, going through the steps carefully but casually to keep things light. Once Sarah seemed to understand, Angie gently squeezed her shoulder. Sarah took a bite of chocolate, letting the sweetness calm her. She looked down at the pads on the table, still feeling a bit lost. “It’s just… I don’t know anything about this stuff,” she admitted, twisting the wrapper nervously. “I didn’t even know it would… hurt like this.”

“Y’know,” Angie added, showing her Texan accent. “it’s perfectly okay to feel whatever you’re feeling right now. Sad, scared, or even mad. ‘S a big change, and it can be a lot to take in. But I promise, it gets easier.”

“Does it? My belly hurts real bad now.” Sarah replied, pouting her lips as she pressed some heat from her hands over her abdomen. Angie laughed faintly and caressed the girl’s long curls.

“It does, sweetie,” Angie said, still patting her hair. “But there’ll be times you’ll be dying for your period to come.”

Sarah looked at Angie puzzled at face and then, Angie realized she was talking to a thirteen year old who had no idea of what she was talking about. “In a few years you’ll understand, kiddo.” She completed, grabbing her chin and Sarah shrugged.

“What about these?” Sarah asked, getting a long tampon in her hands, horrified by its size. “Do you put this like… right there?”

Angie crossed her arms after scratching her eyebrows and smiling briefly amongst the mess in her living room. “Yeah… this one might be too much for you now, kiddo. Let’s keep on the tampons for now, ‘kay?”

“Thanks,” Sarah said, her face relaxing a little. She glanced again at the tampon on the table, her curiosity lingering, but it was comforting to know she didn’t have to figure it all out right away.

“Anytime,” Angie replied, giving her a reassuring smile. “Y’can lay down in my bedroom. ‘S the only place is not full of boxes, I’ll get the heating pad warm for you.”

Meanwhile, Joel and Tommy strolled home beneath the relentless sun, the cold coming from the beer packs offering a welcome chill against their chests. The day was blazing, and they were more than ready to kick back and enjoy the afternoon ahead. “I was talkin’ with Herschel at the liquor store and he talked about this cute lil’ thing living right across the street,” Tommy said, waiting for Joel to open the front door. Joel remained silent, not giving too much thought about it. He had dated a few ladies in the past, but none worked out for him. For now, he was solely focused on raising Sarah.

“Tell me ‘bout that,” he replied, pretending to be interested in his brother’s typical womanizing chatter as he turned the key in the lock.

As they stepped inside, Joel paused, immediately noticing the unusual quiet that filled the house. The TV was off, and there was no trace of Sarah bustling around or playing music like she often did. Joel’s eyes drifted up the stairs, figuring she was probably in her room, getting ready for the neighbor’s pool party. He shrugged it off, glancing at Tommy, who raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“I saw her carrying loads of boxes into that house that belonged to that Thomas family who moved away to Arizona,” Tommy continued, getting into Joel’s home as he opened the door. “Guess that means she’s new to the neighborhood. What an eye-candy, all sweaty, beautiful legs, cute smile.”

Joel shrugged as he dropped his keys onto the table. “New neighbors, huh? That’s nice, I guess.” He walked into the living room, his mind still half-focused on Sarah and her quiet absence.

“C’mon, man! You should at least check her out!” Tommy urged, following Joel into the room. “Could be a good distraction for you.”

Joel shot him a look, half-amused and half-annoyed. “Not interested, Tommy. I’ve got enough on my plate right now.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t hurt to make some friends,” Tommy countered, a smirk spreading across his face. “Especially if they have those pretty legs like the new neighbor.”

Joel shook his head, unable to suppress a smile despite himself. “You’re an asshole.” He couldn’t help but appreciate Tommy’s enthusiasm, even if he had no intention of pursuing anything beyond his responsibilities. “Let’s just focus on getting ready for the party.” He said, trying to redirect the conversation. He called out for Sarah, raising his voice slightly. “Sarah!”

There was no response. He frowned and glanced toward the stairs, hearing only silence echoing back at him. “Hey, Sarah! You up there?” he tried again, a hint of concern creeping into his voice as he made his way toward the stairs.

Tommy followed him, still grinning. “She’s probably just taking her sweet time,” he said, crossing his arms. “You know how girls can be. Maybe she’s trying on every outfit she has.”

Joel roamed the second floor of his house, checking for his daughter. Looked inside his and her bedroom, the bathroom, nothing. A pang of worry fell upon Joel. “Tommy, check if Sarah’s downstairs!” Joel asked, yelling from the second floor as he went down the stairs. Tommy nodded, a hint of seriousness now creeping into his playful demeanor. He sprinted to the bottom of the stairs and looked around the living room. “Sarah! You down here?” he shouted, but only silence responded.

Joel reached the last step, his heart racing a little faster as he glanced around. “Sarah!” he called again, his voice laced with concern. “Where are you?”

He walked into the living room, scanning every corner, and then turned toward the kitchen, thinking she might be grabbing a snack. The kitchen was empty, too. Joel felt a knot tighten in his chest.

“Maybe she’s outside?” Tommy suggested, moving toward the back door. “You know how kids like to hang out in the yard when they think no one’s watching.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Joel replied, trying to push away the worry gnawing at him. As Tommy opened the door and stepped outside, Joel followed close behind. The bright sun hit him, and he squinted, scanning the backyard for any sign of his daughter.

“Sarah!” Tommy called out again, his voice carrying over the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Still no answer. Joel stepped further onto the patio, a sinking feeling settling deeper in his gut.

“Let’s check the front,” Joel suggested, feeling the need to cover all bases. As they moved around the house to the front yard, he felt an unsettling sense of urgency. “If she’s not in the backyard, she could have gone to the Adler’s or something.”

“Sarah!” Joel called out, stepping onto the porch and peering inside. “Are you in there?”

Just as he was about to knock, a voice floated back to him, a familiar voice, but tinged with uncertainty. “I’m here!” Sarah replied, her tone brightening with relief.

Joel exchanged a quick glance with Tommy, both of them relaxing slightly. They saw Sarah coming downstairs from the neighbor’s home with a girl next to her, stepping slowly as she carried a heating pad over her belly. “What’s going on, kiddo?” Joel asked, breathing relieved as he saw his daughter safe and sound, but puzzled as to why his daughter had brought a heating pad on the hottest day of June.

“Uh… hey,” Angie said, extending her hand at Joel, who shook hands with her briefly and mainly focusing on Sarah’s well-being. “My name’s Angie, I’m your new neighbor livin’ ‘cross the street. I’d take it easy on her, uh… she’s gone through a bit too much this last hour.”

“Um… hi Angie, thanks for watching her, I’m Joel.” Joel said, trying to be as polite as possible. “As for you, going out without my permission and disturbing the new neighbors Sarah, c’mon…” he finished, rolling his eyes.

“No, dad, you don’t get it…” Sarah said, trying to reason with Joel.

“Yeah, good luck with that, miss,” Tommy chimed in, his hands shoved into his pockets as he tried to disguise a laugh at the father-daughter exchange.

“She was actually looking for help,” Angie interjected, sensing the tension. “Sarah needed someone to talk to about… well, girl stuff. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Joel raised an eyebrow, momentarily confused. He exchanged a glance with Tommy, who seemed just as puzzled.

Angie approached them, holding out a bag filled with toiletries. “Hate to be the messenger, but your daughter went through, um… the change,” she said, her tone gentle but matter-of-fact.

Joel’s heart sank, and he felt like being hit like a ton of bricks as his cheeks grew red of embarrassment. He looked from Angie to Sarah, who stood there with a mixture of shame and vulnerability. “Oh,” he said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You mean…”

“Yeah, I got my period,” Sarah admitted, her voice annoyed. “I didn’t know what to do, and Angie helped me.”

Tommy, realizing the gravity of the moment, stopped his teasing and looked at Sarah with an unexpected seriousness. “Hey kiddo, don’t feel bad” he said, trying to lighten the mood, but his tone was respectful. “You’re not alone in this.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, annoyance flooding her cheeks as she hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered, wishing she could just disappear.

Joel took a deep breath, processing everything. “I’m glad you had someone to talk to, Sarah,” he said, his protective instincts kicking in. “But you should have come to me. I can help too.”

“No, Dad, you can’t! Ugh!” Sarah exclaimed, exasperation lacing her words. “You don’t understand! It’s just... embarrassing. Ugh! Nobody gets me!”

Angie watched the exchange, sensing the emotional intensity of the moment. She looked at Joel, unsure of how to proceed from there. This was clearly a delicate situation, and she wanted to offer support without overstepping. Tommy, sensing the need for space, quietly stepped back inside the house, leaving Sarah and Joel alone and closed the door behind him, allowing the father and daughter to have their moment without distraction.

“Sarah, honey, I think that you shouldn’ talk to your dad like this.” Angie said, with a soft voice as her heavy southern accent was shown. “I tell you that, go home and rest, take these with you.” Angie completed her sentence, giving Joel the sack of feminine products.

“Go home and rest. Sometimes just lying down for a bit can help. And if you need to talk, ’m right across the street,” she added, her tone reassuring.

Sarah hesitated, glancing at the items in Angie’s hand. “Thanks, I guess. But it’s just… weird.”

Angie chuckled lightly. “‘S part of life sweetie, in time things will settle.”

Joel nodded in agreement. “Angie’s right, kiddo. And I promise, it’s not as scary as it seems. Just remember, it’s a normal part of life.”

“You know nothing, dad,” Sarah hit back, rolling her eyes. Feeling the weight of their words, the girl took a deep breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll take them.” She reached out and accepted the items, a small smile breaking through her earlier frustration. “Thanks, Angie.”

“Anytime, sweet pea,” Angie replied, her voice filled with sincerity. “And if you need anything else, just knock on my door. Seriously.”

With a final glance between them, Sarah felt a little more at ease. “Alright, I’m heading home. I guess I can rest and NO PARTY for us!”

Sarah turned to walk away, speaking in a loud, grumpy and bossy tone. Joel grinned and scratched his eyes before looking at Angie more carefully. The girl was indeed a cute little thing with her hair humid and wavy, her features so delicate and feminine that it became almost impossible to not notice her. Her lips were also perfectly shaped. He couldn’t deny, she really was an eye-candy just like Tommy said, but he was quick to send these thoughts away.

“Uh… I had no chance to say thank you. You’re probably full of stuff to do and-...” Joel said, strangely clumsy around the girl before she interrupted him. Angie, on the other hand, found Joel really attractive with his broad shoulders and messy curls, covered in sweat. However, she was also quick to shoo these thoughts away, once she didn’t want to suffer from another bad relationship. For now, Angie wanted to take care of herself. “How much all the… uh, lady products,” he scoffed, oddly timid. “Costed?”

She chuckled gently, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Hey, don’t worry ‘bout that. I’ve been in her place back in the day, it’s tough. Besides, she’s a peach so don’t worry about a thing ‘kay? Face this as a gift from a new neighbor.”

Joel beamed, proud from the education he gave to his daughter. “Yeah but, uh… will she always be this cranky? She was this sweet little girl just yesterday and now looks like a monster swallowed my daughter.”

Angie raised her eyebrows, laughing. “You’ll learn how to handle it just in time. My old man took a while to get used to it too.”

Joel laughed faintly, ignoring the sun towering them. “Y’know what? Why don’t you join us for dinner? The party I’d go to is ruined now so I have loads of beer untouched. I’m no chef but I could cook somethin’ nice. Just a way to say thank you for taking care of my baby girl.”

“I don’t wanna bother anyone, Joel. Really…” Angie said, with a sincere expression.

“C’mon, I insist. You went out of your way to take care of a kid you barely knew.” Joel beamed, crossing his arms.

Angie sighed and smiled as she scratched her eyebrows, nodding her head reluctantly. “Alright, fine. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Not at all, sweetheart.” Joel said, leaving a thrill down Angie’s spine as soon as he called her by a term of endearment. “See ya.”

“See ya.” Angie said, going back to her house.

—

Angie closed the door behind her, biting her lips as her mind recollected the last moments with Sarah’s dad. He was a nice guy, your regular guy next door: talk, muscular, kind, handsome, charming and seemingly a good father. Joel seemed to be a perfect guy for Angie on paper and she couldn’t deny the instant attraction she felt for him as soon as she laid her eyes on him. Although, at the same time, Angie was still mourning the end of her relationship with Trey and everything he could be with her, it ached her heart knowing he was already engaged to a girl who apparently wanted the same things as him. Angie needed to learn how to be alone and get back on her feet first and then, she would think about dating someone else.

Later that evening, Angie started prepping for the dinner Joel had invited her to. She didn’t want to overdress, but she also didn’t want to show up looking like she hadn’t given it any thought. She opted for a simple, casual dress, something comfortable but flattering. As she checked herself in the mirror one last time, Angie took a deep breath.

As she walked to Joel’s home across the street, she felt a slight shame since she couldn’t prepare any meal for the dinner, since her kitchen wasn’t set up yet. The fresh evening air helped to settle her nerves, though, and by the time she reached his door, she felt more at ease. She rang the bell and a few seconds later, Joel opened the door. His expression softened as he saw her, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“Glad you came,” he said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Thanks again for inviting me,” Angie replied, stepping over the threshold. “Sorry for not bringing anything, my kitchen isn’t set up yet.”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, sweetie, you’re our guest,” Joel’s place was cozy and welcoming, a blend of his laid-back personality and something subtly protective. The aroma of a home-cooked meal lingered in the air, and Angie felt an unexpected pang of nostalgia for moments like this.

“Oh it smells good for sure,” Angie said, laughing as she walked inside his house. “Your house is beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you darlin’, I made ‘few pieces from the furniture,” he said, placing his hand over the thick wood on the counter.”

Angie widened her eyes, surprised as she looked at the fine wooden mobilia. “How talented. Are you a carpenter?”

“Contractor. Me and my brother, Tommy. The one you saw earlier.” He said, sitting on the couch alongside Angie, who adjusted the skirt of her dress as she sat comfortably on.

“Well, my parents will definitely need your services one of these days,” she said, glancing upstairs with a subtle curiosity for any sign of Sarah.

"Oh, really?" Joel arched a brow in surprise, a soft smile pulling at his lips. "Thinking about renovations already, darlin'?"

"Well, sorta," she chuckled. "They’re letting me stay in the guest house for a while. ‘S temporary, just until they settle into the main place and decide what to do with it. It’s… a nice way for me to get back on my feet too.”

Joel nodded thoughtfully. “That’s great. It’s hard to find good places that feel like home right away, you know? Sounds like they’re lookin’ out for you.”

“Yeah, I think so,” she replied, smiling softly as she glanced around his house again. “Funny enough, this neighborhood already feels a little like home.”

"'S a nice neighborhood to live in," Joel agreed, his voice soft. "Very peaceful, just good folks all around. Just a shame I’ll have to get used to not seeing you here eventually."

Angie’s cheeks flushed, and she felt a flutter in her chest at his words. "Well, thank you, but I wouldn’t worry too much. I’ll stick around a while." She chuckled. "Had to leave my ol’ job in Dalla to make this move.”

Joel’s eyebrows raised in surprise. "Dallas, huh? That’s a big shift."

“Yeah,” she replied with a shrug. "My folks thought it’d be a good time for me to slow down a bit… and I think they’re right. But it’s a whole new chapter."

Joel nodded. "Big change, but you’ll fit in just fine here. And who knows, maybe we can convince you to stay longer than you’re planning." He shot her a warm, playful look, letting the words hang with a hint of invitation. “I know for a fact that Sarah was already talking ‘bout how cool you are.”

Angie laughed, letting the ease of his company make her feel even more at home. "Well, don’t go making offers like that. I just might take you up on it." She met his gaze, feeling a spark pass between them that was both comforting and scary.

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice echoed as she bounded down the stairs, breaking the quiet warmth that had settled between Joel and Angie.

Joel straightened, glancing over at Angie with a quick, sheepish smile before turning to Sarah. "Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hey Angie, you came.” Sarah said, greeting the older girl with a tight embrace, which Angie accepted just fine.

“I see you got better, my dear.” Angie said, releasing the girl from her arms.

Sarah nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m good now,” she said, flashing a shy smile toward Angie. “Thanks for... you know, helping me out.”

Angie smiled warmly. “Anytime, Sarah. You’ve got this.”

“We were just waitin’ for you, baby. Let’s go before the dinner gets cold,” Joel said, guiding the girls towards the kitchen. Angie felt a quiet warmth settle over her as she realized how rare and precious connections like this could be. It was something she hadn't felt in a long time. As the evening wore on, a gentle silence settled between them, one that didn’t feel the least bit awkward or demanding.

“So, Angie,” Joel began after swallowing a bite of his steak. “You were tellin’ me you had to find a new job in the city. What d’you work with, darlin’?”

“I’m a hairdresser.” Angie replied as she had a sip of her beer, watching Sarah’s eyes widening as she spoke.

“That’s so cool! You could do my hair like Janet Jackson’s sometime!” The girl said, excitedly.

“Kiddo, let’s not abuse from the good will of Angie,” Joel scratched his beard, slightly shy for her behavior. Either way, he had to admit it was cute to see his girl so excited over someone, he figured that Angie could be a good influence on her just for the short amount of time they spent together.

"Relax, we can arrange that, honey," Angie reassured, giving Sarah a warm smile. "But, between us? I think your natural curls are way prettier. Had a friend in beauty school, she had these beautiful curls, all big and curly like yours," Angie said, eating a piece of vegetable quickly. “She taught me ‘few things. I can show you how to make your hair even prettier.”

“Thanks, Angie,” Sarah replied, with a soft smile.

Joel nodded, watching Sarah’s confidence grow under their attention. "Don’t you have a friend whose mom works at that hair salon downtown, darlin’?” he asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

Sarah nodded as she took a sip of her juice. “Yeah, Ellie’s mom,” she replied, glancing up curiously.

Joel raised an eyebrow, casting a quick look at Angie. “Well, maybe next time you’re over there, you can mention Angie to her mom. She’s lookin’ for a job.”

Angie’s eyes widened, her surprise quickly melting into a smile. “Oh, Joel, you don’t have to do that,” she said, though she was clearly touched by his thoughtfulness.

"Sure I do,” he replied warmly. "Good folks ought to help each other out. Besides, Sarah’s got the inside track on the best stylist in town now.”

Sarah grinned, clearly pleased to be involved in a conversation that felt almost grown-up, as though she were part of some small conspiracy between them. She looked from Joel to Angie, excitement dancing in her eyes. “I can do that!”

Angie laughed softly. "Guess I better thank you both then,” she said, her gaze meeting Joel’s with appreciation.

Joel shrugged, his voice warm. “Like I said, just lookin' out for good people.” Angie smiled tenderly at Joel, nodding at him in a silent gratefulness.

As the evening went on, laughter and conversation flowed easily, but eventually a comfortable silence settled around them, a stillness that didn’t need to be filled. They shared small smiles across the table, each appreciating the peace that came with the evening. Sarah eventually fell asleep as they watched a random movie on the TV. Joel glanced at Angie, his gaze steady and kind, as though he, too, was almost surrendering himself to sleep.

“Oh, guess someone fell asleep,” Angie murmured with a soft smile as she noticed Sarah’s eyelids drooping. Joel smiled silently, reaching to lift his daughter in his arms.

“She’s always like that,” he whispered, his voice warm as he carried Sarah upstairs, cradling her gently. Angie followed quietly, watching as Joel carefully tucked Sarah into bed, smoothing the duvet around her with a tenderness that softened his rough edges. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before turning back to Angie, who stood by the doorway, watching the scene with a softened gaze.

Once they stepped into the hallway, Angie took a breath, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Well… I guess I should get going,” she said, gathering her things with a polite smile.

But as she stood there, a small pang of sadness flickered in her chest, remembering memories of promises that once meant the world to her. Trey had once promised he’d be there to tuck their future kids into bed every night, and for a moment, Angie felt the ache of his absence more sharply than usual. She missed the life she had once imagined, even if she couldn’t quite say it out loud.

Joel’s voice broke her reverie, low and inviting. “You should stay. Have a beer with me,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on hers as he gently closed Sarah’s bedroom door behind him.

Angie smiled, her heart lifting despite herself. “Thank you, Joel. But maybe we could both use a good rest tonight,” she replied softly, her southern accent wrapping around the words in a way that felt warm, even comforting.

Joel tilted his head, his own accent thickening as he spoke. “Fair enough,” he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. “Feels like we’ve known each other longer than just a day,” he said softly, a faint smile touching his lips.

Angie met his gaze, her own smile forming. “Yeah, it does. Funny how that happens sometimes, isn’t it?”

Joel nodded, his eyes warm. “Guess it’s not every day you find someone who just… fits.” He looked down, almost shy, before adding, “Or who’s willing to help out a clueless dad in the middle of all this.”

Angie laughed softly. “You’re not clueless at all, Joel. And besides, I don’t mind bein’ around to help, if you’ll let me.”

Joel’s smile deepened, a look of quiet gratitude passing over his face. “I’d like that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Angie’s gaze lingered on Joel, her heart fluttering with an unexpected warmth. Just one day into her new life in the suburbs of Austin, and here she was, falling for a man’s charm with the same ease that had always led her to trouble. She felt like that naive girl once more, melting under his sweet talk, the magnetic pull between them undeniable yet unsettling. But she shook her head slightly, a small frown creasing her brow. Angie knew she had to exercise some discipline in her thoughts, because she knew well that right there, she was being the same needy girl that she was trying to leave behind. It was easy to get swept up in the moment, but she couldn’t forget the reasons she had moved away from Dallas. This new beginning was about rebuilding herself away from her past and the disappointment of Trey.

“I should probably get going,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction as they stood by the door. “You know, get some rest and all.”

Joel nodded, a hint of reluctance in his expression. “Sure, but you’re welcome here anytime. I mean it. Sarah could use a friend like you, and so could I.” His sincerity made her heart ache with possibility. ‘Friendship, Angie. That’s all he wants from you.’, that’s what Angie tried to repeat in her mind like a mantra.

Angie took a deep breath, grounding herself. “G’night, Joel.” She said, walking away from the Miller’s door, walking towards hers across the street.

[cherrysnax]

i do wonder why I’m having all these weirdly vivid and grounded dreams all of a sudden

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 

[amethystwrytes]

Of Course, Professor

Pairing: Law Professor!Lee Know x Female Reader

Genre: Smut. Romantic-ish. Basically just porn with a hint of plot tossed in so I don’t just keyboard smash sex stuff on the page and feel bad about myself. 18+.

Summary: The law professor everyone is scared of generously offers to help you with your school work.

Warnings: There is explicit language. There is explicit sex (oral, penetration, teasing, edging, cumshot). There is a Professor/Student relationship, and IRL I do think that’s super inappropriate BUT this isn’t real life and I promise everything is very consensual, there’s no like “give me sex and you’ll get an A” kinda stuff, so, it’s all very much in my own personal scope of comfort. I wouldn’t write anything I felt was yucky. If any of that rubs you the wrong way though, that’s totally fine, and this one isn’t for you which is completely okay.

A/N: So, once upon a time in my undergrad years I was determined to be a lawyer. For a solid academic year I changed my major to Paralegal Studies because I figured that would be a perfect foundation for law school (smart, right?). Except like, three months in I was miserable and hated everything about it and realized that it absolutely couldn’t be me. I ended up having a similar discussion with my academic advisor/professor - except I didn’t end up fucking them - not that professor anyway (kidding). I always wanted to write a story about that awful year, and now I have - kinda…sort of. With a twist of delicious Lee Know and forbidden love. Yum. 

“Can you stop please?” 

You look at the girl sitting next to you in class. Her name completely escapes you but her eyes are burning lasers at the pen you’ve been clicking nervously in your hands. 

“...Sorry…” 

You apologize and gently set the pen down on your desk. Professor Lee is taking his sweet time passing back the most recent term papers and you dig your nails into your palm in anticipation of your grade. 

To say you’re struggling in his Civil Procedures course is an understatement. In fact, you don’t seem to be doing well in any of the classes you’re taking this semester. The voices of your parents condescendingly telling you “Law School isn’t for everyone and that’s okay,” sound like they’re playing on repeat in an echo chamber. 

If you bomb this paper you’re out. You stayed up almost all night last night going over the pros and cons of dropping out. You went back and forth so long fighting with yourself that you fell asleep thinking about it, and when you woke up the only thing you could think of was letting the universe give you a sign. 

You had worked on your term paper for weeks, carefully piecing it together, you spent so much time in the library that you now know the TA who works at the help desk on a first name basis. So if you flunk it, there’s your magical sign.

“Ms. ___,” Professor Lee sets your paper face down on the desk - bad sign. He leans down just a tad, “Why don’t we meet in my office after class?” - even worse. 

“Yes, Professor,” you nod. You think about not even flipping the stapled monstrosity over, but curiosity gets the better of you. 

There it is, a painful 55% staring back at you in thick, blood-red marker. You spare yourself the trouble of pouring over the thinner red notes made in the margins of every page. You can’t help the tears of frustration that pool in your eyes. 

“Everyone enjoy your break and the time spent with your families, when we return we’ll begin our discussions on Summary Judgement, so please make sure you complete the reading outlined in the syllabus before we see each other again. Dismissed,” Mr. Lee nods and the ruckus of chairs against linoleum and exasperation fill the room. 

Mr. Lee’s office is four floors above the classroom, so you have a few minutes to spare - which you spend in the restroom crying, drying your eyes, then crying again. 

You’re dropping out of Law School. All that work, all that trying, all those late nights - and don’t even start on the amount of money spent on coffee and tuition and fucking textbooks and…you start sobbing again. 

“How did you do?” Seungmin asks when you emerge from the ladies room, his face immediately contorts into a painful frown at your red, puffy face, “That bad huh?” 

“I can’t really talk Seungmin,” you take a deep breath, “I’ve got to go meet Lee in his office before his next class begins.” 

“Fuck,” Seungmin frowns even more, “That man scares the shit out of me.” 

“Thanks,” you say, “That’s helpful.” 

“Sorry. We’re all heading to the Coffee House before everyone starts driving home for the break, do you want to come? After your meeting of course,” he asks. 

“Not today,” you shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 

He gives you a sympathetic look and your shoulder a tiny squeeze.

You stand outside Professor Lees office for a few moments, gathering yourself. Professor Lee makes everyone nervous. He’s a hard instructor, emotionless sometimes, so direct it’s painful, and it doesn’t help anyone that he’s also devastatingly attractive. He’s a giant walking slab of intimidation. 

You softly knock on the door and he looks up at you from over his glasses as he types something. 

“Ah, Ms. ___, there you are. Come, sit down,” he instructs and you slide through the doorframe and slouch in an old green armchair across from his desk. 

“Just give me one second,” he says slowly as he continues typing, “alright.” 

“I’m sorry sir, for the term paper, I should have done better,” you offer up, electing to go ahead and fall on your own sword.

“There’s no need for apologies Ms. ___, a waste of time in this kind of situation. I would like to speak to you about your grades this semester though. After I graded your term paper, I reached out to some of my colleagues - some of your other professors - and they all had similar reports to give me, can we talk about that?”

You sigh, fanning out your fingers over your thighs, “Please, Professor, you mentioned a moment ago about time wasters - and I don’t want to waste anymore of your time - I’ve decided to drop out of law school.” 

The defeat you feel just saying the words out loud to someone is enough to bring tears back, but you fight them off. You will not cry in Professor Lee Minhos office. Absolutely not. 

Professor Lee purses his lips and nods, “I think that’s probably for the best.” 

Your jaw drops, “Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to do the opposite? To try harder or something?” 

“Miss ___, I fear if you tried any harder your hair might burn out from the roots,” he smiles and if you weren’t so shocked, you’d laugh at the first joke you’ve ever heard him utter. 

Before you can think of something to say, he produces a file folder from his drawers and smacks it on the table making you jump. 

“These are all the papers you’ve written for my class so far this semester. Your papers intrigue me Miss ___.” 

Intrigue? That’s a funny word to use for ‘disgusted and disappointed beyond imagination.’ 

“But you-,” you begin to point out that the highest grade he’s ever given you on a paper was a 68%. Far from intriguing. 

“But…as legal writing? They’re all absolute trash,” he tells you. “What intrigues me about them is the way you write, it’s quite good, every time I read one I feel like I’m in the room with a friend who’s trying to sort of explain law to me, the problem is you just don’t think, rationalize, or talk like a lawyer. I noticed in your transcript that your undergraduate degree was in education, and you had a 4.0 GPA. I can’t help but wonder, Miss ___, what career are you looking for?” 

“A…a lawyer,” you say in a quiet voice, staring at a knick on his desk. 

He looks skeptical as he leans back in his chair, “Why?” 

“Because…” oh fuck it all, you may as well just say it, “because my father, my mother, and my older brother are all lawyers, who went here.” 

“I see, so one could deduce that you wanted to be a lawyer because they wanted you to be one, they expected it of you?” he concludes. 

You smile comically, the truth is much more pathetic. 

“No, actually, they all told me I couldn’t do it. They told me I wasn’t smart enough, sharp enough, bold enough. I wanted to teach art to school children, but when that’s exactly what I elected to study, their comments started. I was just a private joke between the three of them, and I hated it, so I wanted to show them that I could be a lawyer.” 

“You came here to study law out of stubborn spite?” he reiterates. 

“Yes sir, I did,” you look at your lap and play with a rogue string from your sweater cuff. 

“That’s quite impressive, Miss ___, to go through all that trouble, strife, and money to do something you have no interest in just to best your family.” 

“Well when you say it like that I sound like a psycho,” you laugh timidly, trying to keep the sludge of humiliation down. 

“I don’t think you’re a psycho, I think you’re a bright woman who wanted to show her family they were wrong, but just ended up making herself miserable,” his expression is soft, almost understanding. “However, as your professor, I don’t think I could recommend continuing with law school. This is your first year, with first year level studies, and you’re struggling this much all for something you don’t even want, it will only get more difficult from here.” 

You nod, “You’re probably right sir,” you stand, “I should get to the admin office before they close for the break, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” you give him a respectful smile and grab your bag.

“Miss ___,” he motions for you to sit back down, “First of all, you’ve not wasted a single second of my time. Second, I don’t recommend dropping out right now, I think you should finish this semester at least.” 

“You just said…”

“I said I don’t think you should continue with law school, and I don’t. However, we’re past the official mid-point of the semester, the cut off to withdraw for a full refund of tuition was last week, if you go now you’ll never get that money back.” 

You plop back down in the chair, even more defeated, “I didn’t realize that,” you drag your hands down your face in frustration, “shit.”

Professor Lee chuckles, “I do have an alternative plan for you, if you’re willing to hear it and put in the work,” he offers. 

You sit up straight, “Yes, of course sir.” 

“I suggest you finish this semester, and I will help you - starting with rewriting your latest term paper. I’ll even try to assist you with some of your other courses, if you’d like. If we work diligently enough, you can finish this semester with an acceptable GPA, that keeps your academic record away from probation or academic expulsion,” he explains. 

“You would do that?” you ask in disbelief. 

“Well, of course, I am a professor after all. What sort would I be if I wasn’t willing to help my students?” 

“I don’t know what to say Professor,” you smile, “that’s too generous.” 

“It’s not a problem Miss ___. Now, let’s talk strategy, I assume you don’t plan on spending break with your family?” he guesses. 

“No sir, they’re too busy anyway, I plan on staying in my apartment off campus during the break,” you answer. 

“Splendid. This evening I have a night class to teach, but perhaps we could meet tomorrow? The library will be closed for break, but my students enjoy meeting up together at that coffee place downtown, uh, Coffee Shack or something,” he struggles. 

“The Coffee House?” you help him and try to hold back a grin.

“Yes, would you like to meet there, say, 1PM tomorrow afternoon? We can go over some of your papers together and I’ll help you with your legal writing technique,” he asks. 

“Yes, I’ll be there sir, I really can’t thank you enough, truly I appreciate this,” you tell him. 

“I look forward to it, Miss ___.” 

📖 ���️

You adjust your backpack as you walk towards the Coffee House doors. You packed your laptop, all your text books, notes, and a few other things because you weren’t sure what Professor Lee would want to cover. The weight of it all is dragging you down and you have to hunch over a bit to balance it. 

“My goodness, here, let me get that for you Miss ___,” Professor Lee greets you at the door, he seems to have already picked a table near the front and grabs your bag with a grunt. “Did you pack your entire house?” he teases. 

“I didn’t know what you’d want me to bring, so I brought all my school things,” you laugh. 

“Well, I suppose it won’t matter that the library is closed since you brought it with you,” he chuckles and you take the seat beside him. 

“Should we start?” you open your laptop and power on. 

“I thought perhaps you’d like a beverage?”

“Oh,” you look behind you at the register, “Yes, I suppose we should caffeinate,” you smile. 

“What would you like?” He stands up and brings his wallet out. 

“Oh please sir, let me pay, it’s the least I could do for all of your help,” you beg. 

“Nonsense, as much as I love to argue Miss ___ I don’t see the point over a cup of coffee, what would you like? Are you hungry?” 

“No, I ate lunch before coming, just a latte for me, small,” you concede, “and thank you…again.” 

He smiles and departs from the table. You watch him in the line from where you sit. Seeing Professor Lee like this feels…different. In a less formal setting he’s almost approachable, and you’re starting to see things about him that you don’t in class. Like his generosity, and kindness, the man even has a sense of humor and you think of texting Seungmin about it but stop yourself. You want to keep this all a secret. You don’t want anyone knowing that you’re in such desperate need of assistance with your courses, but also you want to keep this side of Professor Lee to yourself. 

You could think of worse ways to spend your Saturday afternoon than with an attractive law professor who’s willing to help you pass your classes. You wonder if he’s aware that all his students find him so hot, or if it’s something that’s never occurred to him. He doesn’t wear a ring on any of his fingers, which tells you he isn’t married, but that doesn’t mean he’s single. You can’t imagine that he’s not seeing anyone. In class he’s usually got on some academia aesthetic looking suit on, lots of tweeds and browns - today he wears a fitted pair of jeans, and a navy sweater with a white collared button up fashioned underneath, the sleeves pushed up his forearms. His jet black hair isn’t styled like it usually is in class, and hangs long and loose around his face. He looks like such a boyfriend…

You blush and go back to focusing on your laptop. What the hell was that? He’s your professor. Which is actually kind of enticing…

You press your lips together and roll your eyes at yourself. Stop with the intrusive sexual thoughts about Professor Lee - the man is trying to save your ass, not spank it - having inappropriate daydreams, no matter how justified they may be, is unacceptable. 

“Here we go,” he comes back to the table and sets two mugs on the surface as he takes his seat again. 

“Thanks,” you smile politely, trying not to look at him. If you don’t look at him, maybe you won’t think about how cute he is and instead focus on what you ought to be: your failing grades. 

“So, let’s start with the main issue of your papers. Writing, in the legal sense, is cut and dry. It’s all about facts, findings, and nothing expressive or personal, which is where you seem to have the most trouble,” he begins and you try to absorb the information instead of noticing the way his lips look while sipping his coffee. 

This endeavor may be harder for you than just pulling your grades up. 

📖 ❤️

“I think that was a very productive first meeting,” he says optimistically as you start piling things back into your backpack. 

“I think so too,” you nod. Productive, yes - but now the real work begins and you’ll have to go home and actually re-write the damned thing. 

Professor Lee carries your backpack out the door, “Where’s your car?” 

“Oh, it’s at home, I just live a few blocks away,” you point in the general direction of your apartment. 

“You mean to tell me you carried this while walking from your house?” he holds the backpack with two hands for dramatics and you giggle. 

“It’s not that terrible, how long has it been since you were carrying books around, Professor? Surely you remember the struggle,” you tease. 

“I suppose it’s been a bit, here,” he reaches in his pocket and the SUV beside you beeps, he opens the passenger door, “I’ll drive you home so you don’t have to endure the struggle.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that sir,” you shake your head. 

“It’s fine, it’s a small college town Miss ___, I can get literally anywhere in less than five minutes, especially since the majority of students are gone this week. Let me be chivalrous for you,” he smiles and you melt a little bit. 

“Well, if you insist,” you look up at him as you slide into the passenger seat. 

“I do,” he closes the door, then places your bag in the backseat before coming around to the drivers side. 

“Are you always this difficult, Miss ___? Or are you just trying to be overly polite because I’m your professor?” he asks when you point him down the street towards your apartment. 

“Difficult, sir?” you look at him wide-eyed. 

“Mmhmm,” he nods, “You didn’t want me to buy your coffee, you nearly refused my ride home electing to carry a small library on your back while you walk,” a look of panicked concern washes over his face and he looks over at you, “This isn’t making you uncomfortable in any way is it? Being alone with me?” 

“No! No, absolutely not,” you assure him, though you wager that your thoughts about him would certainly make him uncomfortable. “I’m just so incredibly grateful for your help, and you continue to go out of your way for me. It’s just never something I…” you stop yourself. 

“Never something you what?” he presses. 

You laugh awkwardly, “It’s just not ever something I expected from you, given your reputation with the other students.” 

“Ah, yes,” he sucks his teeth, “My reputation of being an uptight jerk who doesn’t like anyone.” 

“I would never use those words sir,” you tell him. 

“You might not, but I have the internet too, I’ve seen the threads about me on social medias,” he shares. 

“You read those?” your voice raises at least three octaves. 

“Of course, I’m only human, curiosity gets the best of me from time to time.” 

“I don’t participate in those conversations,” you shake your head, “I understand that it’s only natural for students to want to know about the personalities of their upcoming professors, but the bias that occurs in those threads is absurd.” 

“I agree, though sometimes they can be helpful, to my ego at least,” he laughs. 

“How so?” you wonder, because you don’t remember seeing anything about his classes online that would feed his ego. 

“Some of my students may not like my personality, but they like looking at me,” he grins. 

“Professor Lee! That’s scandalous,” you laugh and playfully smack his shoulder. 

“What?” he laughs with you, “I’ve got to take something positive from it! 75% of those comments are atrocious, but I’m quite proud that I scored three hot peppers on the professor hotness scale.”

“Oh my God,” you cover your mouth, “I cannot believe I’m sitting in your car having this conversation,” you giggle. 

“Is this your building?” he points. 

“Yes, it is.” 

He parks on the street and you take a deep breath when he exits the car. He knows his students think he’s hot, and now he knows that you know he knows. You pat yourself on the back for indicating you’ve never participated in those threads before the conversation took a turn towards hot peppers. Though you are 100% guilty of voting for his peppers. 

He opens your door, hanging your backpack across his shoulder. 

“I’ll walk this up for you,” he offers and you swallow hard. 

“Sure,” you smile, your heart pounding out of your chest. Professor Lee Minho is about to see the inside of your apartment. You try to recall the state you left the place in. You remember doing your dishes before you left, but that’s about the only productive thing you can remember doing today. 

You unlock your door and flip the lights on. Your art supplies are everywhere, and you have a bag of laundry by the door because you plan on hitting the laundromat this evening. In trying to move it out of the way you knock it over, a pair of your underwear spilling out onto the floor right at his feet as he walks through. 

“Jesus,” you mutter, humiliated, as he looks down at you grabbing up the black lace thong and shoving it back into the bag. 

To your utter relief, he says nothing about your undergarments. He sets your backpack down and looks around.

“Can I offer you anything to eat or drink?” 

“Did you do all these?” he walks forward into the room towards the area you dry your paintings in. Canvas after canvas sits up against the wall, some completed, most unfinished. 

“Oh, yes,” you say, walking up beside him, “This semester has been really frustrating for me, and painting helps.” 

“Well, they’re beautiful, truly - you’re quite talented,” he looks down at you, “I can see why teaching art is a passion for you, you’ve certainly got quite a knack for it.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

“Teaching is very rewarding,” he adds, “I think that you should pursue your original dream Miss ___. You’ve clearly got a lot to offer the world,” he smiles down at you and you catch his gaze, a few quiet seconds pass as you look into his dark eyes. 

“You could just call me by my first name, ___, if you wanted,” you say softly, “and um, thank you, for complimenting my art.” 

“You’re very welcome, ___,” he responds, staring at you again. You watch his eyes flit down to your lips and your heart speeds up again. He suddenly clears his throat and looks back at the paintings, “I think we should make the most of the week, since classes aren’t meeting, this is a perfect time for you to catch up with your studies. Tomorrow is Sunday, which is the day I typically devote to catching up on grading, and I do have midterm grades to enter. Perhaps Monday?” he asks. 

“Monday, yeah. That works, um, I have a shift at work on Monday morning, but I’ll be free after 3PM.” 

“Perfect, we could meet at the Coffee House again, around 4:30?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Great,” he begins walking back to the door, “and, um, while we’re together - working on your coursework I mean - feel free to call me Minho. However when classes resume, it’s probably best to address me as Professor Lee.” 

“Of course, Professor,” you agree. “Thank you, er…Minho…for everything today.” 

“You’re most welcome,” he opens the door then pauses, turning his head slightly in your direction, “Nice panties, by the way. See you Monday!” 

You stand there, speechless, staring at the closed door. 

📖 ❤️

Monday afternoon you can’t help but notice that Professor Lee - Minho - sits closer to you at the table in the coffee shop as he helps you study for one of your other classes. You don’t blame him, truth be told, you spent over an hour after your shift at the bookstore getting ready, hoping he’d look at you the same way he did Saturday. You are, without a doubt, down bad. To impress him even further you’ve got a surprise for him.

“I re-wrote my term paper,” you blurt as the two of you are clearing up the table after studying. 

“Already?” he looks at you. 

“I worked on it all night Saturday, and most of the day on Sunday. Do you want me to email it to you?” 

“Absolutely,” he smiles, “Good girl.” 

Fuck off, he did not just say that. You bite down on your lip and your thighs press together as you bring up your student email. You attach the file and send it to him. 

“It should be in your inbox the next time you check,” you say…like a good girl. Swoon. 

“Great, um, I was wondering - and just tell me to shut up if you want to - but I was wondering if you had plans this evening?” 

Your heart grows wings and begins to fucking fly. 

“No,” you shake your head, “I have zero plans for a Monday evening in a town that’s practically shut down.” 

He chuckles, “Right. So, would you want to join me for dinner maybe?” 

You at least pretend to mull it over instead of just shouting YES in some unflattering, desperate tone. 

“Where were you planning on eating?” you ask. 

“There’s a really nice place I like, it’s about a twenty minute drive out of town, but the food is impressive, never had a bad dish there,” he shares. 

“I am hungry,” you say, “I’d love to.” 

“Good, shall we?” 

📖 ❤️

“Are we celebrating anything special this evening?” the waiter asks as he sets two glasses of water down, “A first date? An anniversary perhaps?” 

“No.” 

Both of you answer him at the same time, and try to hold your laughter in when the poor man looks taken back. 

“Okay,” he says, “Can I get you all anything to drink from our wine or cocktail menu?” 

“I’ll have a glass of this pinot, chilled, please,” you point to the wine and the waiter writes it down. 

“I’ll have the same,” Minho smiles. 

“I’ll get those right out.” 

Minho bites his lip and stares down at the tablecloth, you frown. 

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “I’m just trying to remind myself that nothing inappropriate is happening here, I’m having dinner with one of my female students, but you are an adult and so am I and it’s fine.” 

“I won’t be your student after this semester,” you point out, “I don’t know if that’s helpful or not though.” 

“It is,” he nods, then tilts his head, “yet somehow I still feel like I’m misbehaving.” 

“It’s only food, how is that misbehaving?” 

“It’s not what I’m doing,” he bites his lip again and looks up at you, “It’s what I’m thinking.” 

You take a sip of water, your body practically vibrating with curiosity, “What is it that you’re thinking, exactly?” 

“Things that I shouldn’t be thinking about my student,” he says quietly. 

“This isn’t high school, Professor, this isn’t even undergrad. Don’t be harsh on yourself, I’m sure whatever you’re thinking about isn’t a bad thing,” you point out, hoping you sound cool and collected and not like you’re ready for him to take you right on this table. 

“So if I was thinking about fucking you after class in my office, across my desk, that wouldn’t be a bad thing?” 

You nearly choke on your water. Before you can respond the waiter returns with your glasses of wine, not a moment too soon. 

“I’ll let you guys look over the menu and come back in a few minutes.” 

You clear your throat once the waiter is gone, “I think fucking me on your desk would probably be inappropriate,” you smile, “especially to your neighboring colleagues. I have quite a mouth on me,” you say, opening your menu. 

You can feel him staring at you. “I’d very much like to hear it.” 

“Maybe you will, I guess we’ll see,” you shrug. 

The smile that spreads across his face is so dangerously mischievous, your clit throbs where you sit and you shift uncomfortably, only making it worse. 

📖 ❤️

The sexual tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife as you make your way back to his car. You reach for the door handle, but he grabs your arm and spins you around, your back pushed up against the door. 

His lips crash against yours, arms caging you in which is completely fine by you. You bury your fingers in his hair on either side of his head but he pulls away. 

“I want it to be clear I have never had any kind of sexual relationship with a student, ever,” he says quickly, then his lips are against yours again. 

“I believe you,” you manage between lips and tongues. 

He pulls away again, “And the only reason I’m pursuing this is because I can’t fucking resist you and you’re not going to be my student again after this semester,” he adds, then more kissing. 

“Got it,” you mumble into his mouth. 

Again he pulls away, “Seriously, even if you don’t quit law school I can never have you in class again, okay?” 

“Yes! Fuck that place, I’m done, and even if I wasn’t - I wouldn’t take you again, you’re an uptight jerk of a professor, remember?” you tease him, then desperately pull him back onto your lips. 

He shoves you harder against the car, his knee coming between your legs and you press yourself down on his thigh. You moan softly into his mouth and his hand smacks the side of the car. 

“Get in, fuck, please get in the fucking car.” 

He scrambles around to the drivers side as you jump in. 

“Your place or mine?” he asks, turning the ignition. 

“Which is closer?” you ask, pulling the seat belt so hard and quick that it locks up. 

“Uh…mine… mine I think.” 

“Then there’s your answer,” you tell him. 

Five minutes of him burning rubber down the highway is too long for you not to be touching him. You reach over and caress his thigh through his jeans, moving higher and higher until you find what you’re looking for in the darkness. 

He hisses as you stroke and massage his hard length through the fabric. 

You unbuckle your seat belt, “Are you as good a driver as you are a professor?” 

“I…why?”

You scoot as far as you can and lean over, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, sliding your hand through the opening of his boxers until you feel the warm, velvety skin of his cock in your fist. 

“Oh fuck…oh my fucking…” he pants, his knuckles turning stark white around the steering wheel. 

You unbuckle his seatbelt as well and help him get it out of the way before pulling his cock from the confines of his jeans. 

You stroke him a few times, then let a glob of spit drip from your lips onto him so you can continue stroking more comfortably. 

“God…” 

You take him in your mouth and suck, running your tongue over the tip. The way he’s nearly whimpering, eyes so wide on the road, delights you. You put your mouth on him again, taking him deep in your throat, taking turns stroking and licking. 

“I’m going to cum,” he whispers hoarsely after several minutes, “I don’t have anything to…” he looks around frantically but you shake your head, popping your mouth off of him momentarily. 

“I can take it,” you whisper, then suck him between your lips once more. You can feel the base of his cock twitch and brace yourself, spurts of hot cum follow seconds later and you take it all from him greedily, swallowing then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Holy shit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That was so fucking hot.” 

“Thank you,” you grin, pulling down the visor so you can fix yourself in the mirror. The “kiss proof” lipstick you wore today is evidently not “road head proof” and you clean up the edges of your mouth. 

He reaches over and grabs your hand in his, squeezing and rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb while he speeds down the road. 

📖 ❤️

The door to Minhos apartment isn’t even locked before he shoves you against it and presses his mouth to yours. 

“I want to make you feel so fucking good,” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck. He drops to his knees and unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs. You kick your shoes off so he can get the pants off completely. 

He looks up at you and grins, tracing the lines of the black lace thong that toppled over at your apartment, “I was wishing very much that I’d get to see you in these,” he says, pressing his tongue against the tiny bit of cloth. 

You gasp at the way his lips move, teasing and licking through the thin lace, “Are you really going to eat me out against the door?” 

“Mmm,” he moans against your clit and your legs jerk, “Yes,” he says hooking his fingers in the strings and pulling the soaking wet cloth down your legs. 

“No patience at all Professor, I’m shocked,” you tease. 

“So… you can call me Minho,” he smiles, kissing and licking trails back up your legs, “but in class and when I’m fucking your pretty pussy feel free to use Professor.” 

“Absolutely Professor Lee,” you rest your head against the door as his tongue wiggles between your slick. “Fuck!” 

He finds your clit and wraps his lips around, gently sucking. You lay one of your thighs over his shoulder and try to steady yourself while he laps and sucks you off. You grab his hair with your fingers and move with him, fucking his face and listening to the delightful slurping, wet sounds erupting through the quiet room. 

“Oh…just like that, right there,” you whine when he begins to softly lick the perfect spot, “fuckfuckfuck…yes!” you release his hair from your fist and hold yourself against the wall as your legs begin to quake, cunt throbbing in rhythmic spasms as he milks you with his lips. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, trying to stand straight. He finally gets around to locking the door then picks you up, carrying you down a hallway. He pours you onto the bed and you watch as he strips himself of clothing, you follow suit, though half your outfit is in his foyer. 

You lay back, bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him crawl over you, positioning himself between your legs. 

“You’re sure this is okay?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours, the head of his cock leaking against your open cunt. 

“Yes, fuck, yes I want you,” you assure him, nails digging into his shoulder. He makes a gruff noise deep in his throat and lines himself up with your opening. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push into you and he does, slow and deep. You both moan into each other at the sensation of it.  

Slowly he begins to move quicker, still deep, but urgently. The sound of skin against skin intoxicating. He sits up a bit, your hips coming with him and he grabs them, using you as an anchor to thrust into you. 

“Minho…” his name comes out as a whisper, your eyes screwed shut. “So close…” 

“No, no,” he tsks, slowing down and pulling himself out, pushing the head of his cock against your clit. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

He slides his cock against you until you start squirming beneath him, your clit still sensitive from his front door excursions. “Please? Fuck…” you whine loudly. 

“You want it?” he asks in a growl, stuffing himself inside you then pulling out again. 

“Yes! Yes! Please!” you cry, your nails scraping against the sides of his legs. 

“Are you sure baby?” he smirks, pushing into you and pulling out slowly several times. Your orgasm begins to build again and you meet his thrusts with your hips, chasing it. Until he pulls out again. 

“What are you doing?” you groan, half laughing and out of your mind. 

“Beg a little,” he urges, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock but pulling away every time you try to push against it. 

You snap your eyes open, the sight of him looking down at you makes you unhinged. “Please, Professor Lee, please let me cum,” you say it as sweetly and earnestly as you can muster. 

His eyes practically roll back in his head as he lines up with you again and pushes in deep, his hands fly back to your hips and he drags you on and off his cock until your vision goes white with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

“Sit up, please,” he begs breathlessly as he pulls away, stroking himself. You do as you’re told and watch as his lips part, his hand stills and shots of pearly strings shoot across your breasts. 

“Hold on,” he says when he can move again, then disappears behind a door, emerging a few moments later with a warm damp hand towel. He kisses you deeply as he cleans his cum off your chest. 

“That was so fucking good,” you whisper, taking his face in your hands. 

“Yes,” he sighs, pulling you down beneath the blankets with him, “Yes it was.” 

He holds you close to him, your eyes getting heavier, “I think my books are still in your car. We could go over the paper on tort law I bombed over breakfast tomorrow?” 

He chuckles and nods, “It’s a date.” 

📖 ❤️

You sit in Professor Lees classroom as he passes back the latest exam. Term is almost over and everyone seems to be reeling with nerves around you. 

He slows beside your desk and lays your test down, “Much better, Miss ___, much better.” 

Seungmin looks over at your test, “Hey! Not bad,” he smiles cheerfully. 

“I’ve had a lot of help this semester,” you smile.

At the bottom of the last page you read the note of thin red ink,

See you at my place tonight?

The End

Endnote:

I am in my Lee Know slut era. I will not be taking questions about my worship of him at this time, thank you. As always, if you made it far enough to read this, please accept my virtual smooch.

Also as always this is unbeta’d bc that’s typically how I roll so it could be absolute trash but that’s okay bc we’re just having fun.

[littlefluu]

𓍯𓂃𓏧 E N H Y P E N F I C R E C S

AUGUST 19th, 2024 RECOMMENDATIONS

WELCOME TO A SMALL LITTLE COLLECTIONS OF RECENT WORKS I ENJOYED (I was really busy with uni so there isn´t that much new material here! For more recommendations check out my main masterlist) ⤷ GO BACK TO THE MAIN ENHYPEN MASTER LIST WITH EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

ALL OF THE MEMBERS

love. f. moments where they realize they are in love or when they fall harder than they did before ᝰ fluff, short scenarios, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Maybe in another universe !? by @leaderwon a. enhypen members texts after you pass away ᝰ sad, angsty SMAU, all members .ᐟ₊ ⊹

LEE HEESUNG

teeth by @gyuuberryy f, sug. you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy. ᝰ enemies to lovers, vampire!heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

talk tomorrow by @soobnny f. drunken confessions ᝰ best friends to lovers, heeseung x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

predictable predicament by @timextoxhajima f,s. so you're best friends with the campus hottie who happens to be the quietest one in his group of friends. he's different with you though. ᝰ best friend! heeseung, fluff, smut in the least explicit way .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK JONGSEONG

7:18 AM by @ashtxrie f. jay surprises a very sleepy y/n with breakfast. ᝰ established relationship, pure fluff, heavy domestic content timestamp, jay x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Naturally by @ikeuverse f,s. ★ jay has always been very private about his love life and physical contact in front of his friends, but a comment from his work colleagues made him rethink some things. ᝰ established relationship, fluff, smut, domestic , chef!jay x fem!reader  .ᐟ₊ ⊹

How you get the girl by @jaylver f, a. ★ Beach parties are supposedly fun and exciting, aren’t they? Wrong. Experiencing college parties is rare for you, but you decided to give this one a go after your best friend’s constant pleas. Things were alright until everything turned sour when trouble found you and eventually you were roped into a fight alongside the campus’ famous hockey playboy. As if that wasn’t enough, the devil himself conjured up an idea that you found yourself being entangled in. It was all fun and games up until confusion arose, feelings being confessed and played, in the end, Jay had to learn how to get the girl, his girl. ᝰ strangers to frenemies to lovers, fake dating au, college sports au, romance, fluff, angst, secret pining, ice hockey player!jay x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SIM JAEHYUN

Car rides by @jlheon f. a sequence of events from your and jake’s senior year ᝰ neighbors to lovers, fluff, highschool au .ᐟ₊ ⊹

SOUL SISTERS f. where layla shows how much she cares about the growing life inside you. ᝰ fluff, heavy domestic content, husband!jaeyun x pregnant!reader, .ᐟ₊ ⊹

break the ice by @jaylver f, a. ★ Punching a guy in the club then kissing him not long after at a hockey game wasn't exactly a fairytale, but for you, it was your reality. The worst part of all it wasn't even the incidents that happened, but the fact that you didn't know him or his name. That was until another stir of events that happened which caused you and him to actually meet, so what was the best way to break the ice after a disastrous punch and a shocking kiss together? A date. It could be love at first sight, or more accurately, it was love at first punch, or … kiss? ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, angst, ice hockey player!jake x afab!reader.ᐟ₊ ⊹

Midnight train (back to you) by @jaylver f, a. ★ You declared to the world that this summer will be yours. Ever since you’ve left home to chase your dream further in Europe, you never dared to look back, leaving your friends and family along with the precious memories there, including your silent love for your closest friend. Years passed, you were making a name for yourself and chasing that fame, settling in perfectly fine and eventually moved on with life. All was well until the transfer window came, announcing a new addition to the men’s first team, who also happened to be your childhood best friend, Jake Sim. Summer in Spain wouldn’t be what it is without experiencing lots of rekindling, heartbreaks, fallout but also a shot at love. ᝰ childhood friends to lovers, college/professional sports au, romance, angst, pining, (slight) slow burn, pro-footballer!jake x pro-footballer afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

PARK SUNGHOON

Insatiable by @moonhoures s. your vampire bf suddenly becomes clingy which can only mean he’s hungry or horny . . . or both ᝰ non-idol!au, vampire!au, smut, sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

Fatal trouble by @gyuuberryy f. your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go. ᝰ roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au, vampire!sunghoon x reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MS. & MR. President by @jlheon f. seeing your ex in public leads to hiding in a small photobooth with your annoying student council vice president park sunghoon ᝰ non-idol!au, frenemies to lovers, sunghoon x freader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE by @jaylver f, a. ★ Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that.  ᝰ strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish, ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader .ᐟ₊ ⊹

RIKI NISHIMURA

supernova by @star-sim f,a,h. riki was the city's top hero, you were the top villain. when your archnemisis pulls up to your apartment late at night, all battered and bruised, you just sighed and took him in. you were a villain, not a monster! ᝰ hero! riki x femvillain! reader, superhero! au, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, a lil bit of angst .ᐟ₊ ⊹

duck by @jlheon f. you want a sonny angel hipper ᝰ Idol bf! nishimura riki x fem! reader, established relationship, fluff .ᐟ₊ ⊹

MY FAVORITE AUTHORS THIS MONTH @jlheon ★ @jaylver ★ @gyuuberryy

[alexiapp]

Next Step With You

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You and Alexia finally have the talk about Kids…

Note: I’ve been gone for so fucking long because of how insanely busy i’ve been but, i’m totally hoping on posting constantly and not keeping empty promises 😭..i’ve had an insane amount of writers block also so keep that in mind!! This isn’t my best work but it’ll have to do !

You never thought that you would be in love. You thought you were unlovable or maybe incapable of finding your ‘true one’. You presumed that maybe it was your strong personality or your high standards that caused these problems. You always had trouble with relationships, and had a couple horror stories when it came to your past love life. You always that you were the problem, until you met Alexia. She made you feel something that you never thought you would be able to experience. You felt giddy inside, and content. There wasn’t a dull moment between her and I.

Alexia was charming, and very charismatic and she also has a strong personality which drew you into her. Recently you guys have been entering a new chapter of your relationship. This year would be marking the 4th year you have been together. You couldn’t see your life without Alexia, it just wouldn’t feel right. You wanted to bring new milestones to you guys relationship. Everything you envision had Alexia in it.

You wanted to add an addition to you guys relationship badly..You wanted to build a family between the two of you. You only started feeling this way until you saw how attentive Alexia was towards kids, it always made you wonder how she’d be if you guys had kids. You knew deep down in your heart that Alexia would be an amazing mother, but you didn’t know if Alexia wanted to take that next step with you or if she was even ready. It’s something you’ve been hesitant to bring up, these loud thoughts always stayed in the back of your mind. You don’t wanna scare her away..imagine how crazy you’d looked if she didn’t feel the same way..i mean what if she thought you were a total nut case. This steered you away from Alexia, making you kind of cold and distance.

This situation made you second guess a lot of things. You took an immature approach, usually the average person would talk it out with there significant other in an healthy manner, but you being you, were quite stubborn and decided to isolate yourself. You started declining her offers to go out when she put the idea out there. You guys once long text messages turned into short and brief on your end no matter how hard the poor woman tried to carry the conversation.

You assumed Alexia didn’t notice how cold you’ve been ..Oh boy were you wrong. She was was in deep stress her mind was constantly racing wondering what she could’ve possibly done wrong. Trying to remember moments where she could’ve possibly said the wrong thing that might’ve hurt or offended you in any way. She was determined to get to the bottom of this and handle it quickly, she genuinely couldn’t take not having you around any longer.

After settling down and drowning in her thoughts she decided the only way to get your attention is by catching you at in unexpected moment. She decided she’d venture to your apartment without giving you any head’s up. She didn’t want you to find another excuse to brush her off and ignore her, she wanted to talk to you and get you back. She was determined and ready to do whatever it takes.

The determined blonde quickly grabbed her phone and car keys headed straight for your flat ready to corner you.

You were brought out of a day dream when you heard a knock on your apartment door. You got up and walked over to your door with confusion written all over your face. You weren’t expecting a visitor or any packages. Shock washed over you when you were met with a very agitated and worried blonde. The last person you wanted to see.

Your once confused face was replaced with a very shocked expression.

“Um..hi?” you muttered out in surprise at what you were faced with.

“Why have you been ignoring me” Said the hazel eyed woman as she pushed through into your apartment door.

“i..i haven’t been, i’ve just been very busy i-“ you said as you staggered your words.

“Don’t like to me, you know how much i hate when people lie” the blonde woman said cutting you off in your lousy excuse as to why you haven’t been very present in you guys relationship.

“You’ve been brushing me off, you’ve been texting me less and less. I want to know what i did wrong so i could fix it”. She said with fury in her voice.

“There’s nothing you can do, to stop me from me feeling how i feel right now Alexia” You said nervously.

“Then what is it! I need to know what it is so we can fix it. I want us to fix this” she said waving her hand between you and her.

“I feel like if i tell you what it is, our relationship would be over” you said with a meek expression.

“amor whatever it is we can try and get past it, i just have to know” she said gently as she walked towards you grabbing your hands as a form of comfort. She could tell you were nervous about what you wanted to say next.

“There’s things that i want to do in our relationship that you might not be ready for Alexia, and i don’t want that to jeopardize what we have.” You said conflicted on weather you should open up to her or not

“Hey, no matter what is bothering you, we can fix it and hopefully move past it..i promise” she said as she rubbed her thumb across my hand.

“I want us to have kids..i want to have kids with you, and i didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to scare you off i didn’t want you to think i’m so crazy person. I see myself starting a family with you..” You said with fear in your voice. You were almost quivering with fear on how she would react. You were shut down when you heard the woman in front of you hysterically laugh.

Oh no…she thought you were a joke, she must think you’re a loser..you told yourself, emotions bathing in a pool insecurity. You broke your hand away from her turning away in rejection. “ I knew this would happen, i just knew you wouldn’t take me seriously” you said with hurt and regret in your voice.

You turned your body away from her not wanting her to see how hurt you truly were.

“I’m sorry, come here” she said trying to make you turn towards her.

“i’m not laughing at you about what you said, i’m laughing because why wouldn’t you think i want that also?” she said chuckling lightly. She placed her fairly large hands on her face cupping your cheeks softly and said “why would i want to do that. There isn’t anyone i wouldn’t rather start a family with” she said shaking her head at your ridiculousness.

“I just thought that maybe you’d think that we’re moving to fast, i was just scared” you said looking into her hazel eyes.

“vale, firstly their isn’t anyway i could see life without you..let alone my future with you not being in it, if you told me how you felt ahead of time this wouldn’t be our outcome” she said has she brushed her thumb against your cheekbone

“Amor, you have to communicate with me when you’re feeling this vale ?” she said shaking her head to try to get me to understand. Which i nodded in response.

I leaned in and pecked the blonde’s lips, you were suddenly thrown over her shoulder, making you giggle in surprise “Let’s practice making that baby sí!” as she carried you to your apartment bedroom.

I’ll grammar check later !!

[ambswoso]

could’ve been ii - leah williamson

the weddings over. you have to return to barcelona but you didn’t think you’d be seeing leah again so soon and she’s determined to get her girl back, in any capacity.

5.9k words. somehow it's longer than the first part.

leah williamson x mead!reader

“right beth, pack it in. i’m gonna miss my flight.” you laughed as you pushed out of her tight hug.

“you sure you’re gonna be ok?” beth stroked your hair, tucking the hair that had fell from your ponytail behind your ear. “it’s a two-hour flight bethy, i’m sure i’ll be fine.”

“yeah, a two hour flight by yourself to a foreign country!” beth emphasised, ever the protective big sister. “i do live there beth.”

“i know and i hate it. i miss you already.”

“i miss you too, but i really do have to go.” you once again released yourself from beth’s grasp, leaning over to give you new sister-in-law an equally big hug.

you headed over to security and waved at beth and viv one last time. “call me when you land, or i’ll send lucy to your apartment.” you heard beth call as you went, giggling to yourself.

now you just had two hours to kill, by yourself, until you were due at your gate. you may as well get back up to date with paperwork having been away for just over a week. airpods in you started powering through your work, or at least you were until a song you’d long deleted from your playlist started playing in your ears.

your song. both of yours.

leah had a habit of calling everyone ‘my girl’, particularly you when you were together because once upon a time you actually were her girl. the first time she called you it was on your first date. she picked you up, took you for a picnic on an unusually warm february day and dropped you home like the charming woman she always was. as you left leah’s car she called after you, “see you soon for the next one, my girl.” and if you weren’t already smitten from the date then that certainly sealed the deal. the next time she picked you up, ‘my girl’ was playing through her car radio and you decided there and then that it was your song. you only let leah know about it after you’d made things official, but she was fine with it. 

the same song that used to fill you with love and remind you of the love of your life, now just made your heart sink. you weren’t her girl anymore and she wasn’t yours.

you gave yourself only 30 seconds to enjoy the song before you skipped to the next. your shoulders had been rid of a particularly heavy weight since yours and leahs blowout at the wedding and you didn’t really feel like having it back just yet. besides you had work to do and a flight to barcelona to catch. 

other than that one slip up at the airport, you barely had time to think about leah, being thrown straight back into your work had helped distract you.

“hola chica.” you heard a voice call from outside your office, “¿cómo estás?” (how are you?)

“simplemente perfecta” (simply perfect). you told the tattooed woman who’d since made herself comfortable on your other chair.

“i think that was sarcasm” mapi observed. “tell me all about the wedding.” she leant forward resting her chin in the palms of her hands, smiling at you so innocently.

you’d become very friendly with a lot of the girls that played for barca since starting there, having lucy and kiera introduce you to them had helped. they liked finally having a physio who was similar to them, that enjoyed football, that was around their ages. as of recent and thanks to a knee injury, you had a new number one fan by the name of maría pilar león. she was in your office most days for rehab so naturally you learned a lot about each other.

“nothing to tell, maps. my sister got married, i wore a nice outfit, got drunk, had an argument with my ex-girlfriend, drank some more and flew back.” you quickly explained whilst pulling her file up on your computer, only turning to glance at her once you’d finished talking. 

“perdone, repita eso.” (excuse me, repeat that.) mapi gasped. you talked in her physio sessions, a lot, but you’d never discussed you and leah deeming it not fair on her to spread her relationship history around barca femenis football team. 

“wore a nice outfit, got drunk.” you smiled.

“you argued with leah? leah williamson?” mapi exclaimed.

“woah, how’d you know it was leah?”

“lucia loves to talk, everyone knows. it’s sweet you didn’t want to tell anyone though.” she smirked at you. “so why the argument?”

“well we never discussed the breakup properly so, i guess it all just came out that night instead.” you told her, glad to have someone impartial to vent to. “hop up on the bed please, mapi. i need to check your still okay to get back on the grass today.”

“and how do you feel?” she probes as she lays back. you’d both gotten very used to talking about your personal lives during mapi’s appointments. the pair of you had spent so much time together that there was no way you could end up not being friends.

“i don’t really know. there’s like a weight lifted off my shoulder because i said everything i’d been dying to say for a while, but it hasn’t like helped. i still miss it, even after getting that bit of closure.”

“was she unkind?” mapi asked. 

“not at all.” you responded quickly. “i don’t think she really knew why it had ended to be honest. she seemed a bit shocked. we were both sat there crying for a while.”

“the leah williamson crying?” mapi’s head shot up from where it lay, leaning back on her elbows. “god you must have really done a number on her.”

“trust me she’s not as tough as she makes out, or she didn’t used to be anyway.” mapi took notice of how you fondly you still spoke about leah, of how you still held the memories of you and her close to your heart. 

“i don’t think she’s tough at all anymore based on what keira says.” you heard mapi mumble under her breath. “what do you mean? what did keira say?” your questions came at rapid speed in mapi’s direction, the concern and worry you held for leah would probably never go away. 

“i’m staying silent.” mapi held her hands up in defence as you gestured for her to sit up from the bed. “but i do think you should talk to keira for once, i can tell it’s been a little awkward between you two.”

“i mean she’s leahs best friend i don’t want to get in the middle so i just stay out of it completely.” you brushed mapi’s comment off. it wasn’t only keira you’d distanced yourself from after yours leahs split and you knew you’d lost a lot of friends in the process, probably through your own fault rather than anyone else’s. “right, you’re all clear. get your ass back out on the grass maria. i’ll come check in in a little bit.” sending her one final smile to send her off.

you thought mapi had left, thoughts of the team knowing about your previous relationship and what keira may have possibly said ran through your head as you began to wipe down the treatment table where mapi once lay. 

 “lo siento if i’m overstepping but i feel as if we’re good enough friends that i can say this to you.” mapi’s voice scared you from the doorway that she evidently hadn’t moved from yet. “i can see you still love her, i mean you’ve been here for over a year and you’ve not been with anyone else or even tried.” 

“well i-“ 

“don’t even try because i already know you haven’t, mi amiga.” she sent you a knowing look as you rolled your eyes. “you should fight for it, for her, if it’s something you really want because from what you’ve said and what i’ve heard it sounds like she wants to fight for you. i don’t know what happened at home between the two of you, but it must have hurt, but you said yourself you miss the relationship and i think you miss her as well. everything you get is meant for you, y/n/n, and i know you believe that too. just ask yourself if in 5 years, you’re still going to be wishing you’d never left because i think you will.” this time maria actually left the room and with it left you with a lot to mull over. 

“stupid footballers, always giving their stupid advice. idiota.” you scoffed.

“i heard that.”

you filled out the rest of mapi’s paperwork before you went out to see how she was doing back on the grass. it’s quite hard to fill in someone’s medical forms whilst simultaneously having thoughts of your ex-girlfriend spinning around your head but nevertheless you got it done and made your way outside. you were happy with what you saw from mapi, shooting her a quick thumbs up as she waved before trying to disappear back to your office as to not disturb the other girls.

“hola guapa.” (hi beautiful). alexia shouted to you from the pitch as she saw where mapi’s attention was momentarily diverted. 

“te hemos echado de menos.” (we’ve missed you). salma called out as she ran to where you were and pulled you in the hug, others following along in her footsteps.

“hola chicas, i’ve missed you too.” you smiled with salmas arm still wrapped around your shoulders. “vuelve y entrena por favor.” (go back and train, please.)

“tu español es tan bueno ahora, hermosa.” (your spanish is so good now, beautiful). alexia smiled at you as she was the next to pull you into a hug. most people who you met were surprised to hear how welcoming and friendly alexia had been to you. 

when you first moved to barcelona, it’s safe to say it wasn’t under the best circumstances. just coming off the back of a painful end to your relationship, you’d retreated inside yourself and in hindsight moving away from both your family and friends probably didn’t help but you knew you couldn’t stay where you were. keira and lucy were there who you of course knew through leah and beth, but the last thing you wanted to do was cause any friction for them and their national captain, so you kept to yourself and just got to work.

alexia was near the end of her acl recovery when you started your new position, immediately being put in charge of alexia’s rehab and care as you’d had more than enough acl experience working for arsenal. she was a lot sweeter than you’d imagined, her injury putting her in a vulnerable position and you were right there alongside her. you were both healing in your own ways, alexia physically and you emotionally, and your bond quickly formed through that. you didn’t just become alexia’s go to for her physical needs but also her emotional, supporting her through many ups and downs that came with her recovery, and she could never thank you enough for that. when the both of you had spare time, she’d take you around barcelona and had introduced you to her friends and family. you were right there on the side lines watching proudly as she made her comeback in the la liga match against sporting huelva and the friendship continued to blossom even after her recovery. 

“training is nearly finished. no te preocupes.” (don’t worry.) the famously hardworking and driven captain brushed off the end of training, knowing how excited the girls would be to see you again even if it had only been just over a week. “cenamos esta noche?” (dinner tonight?)

“sí, suena bien.” (yeah, sounds good.). alexia had also been a big help in you learning spanish, something you’d been determined to do since arriving in barcelona and you’d come a lot further than keira put it that way. 

“y/n, can i talk to you for a second?” speak of the devil, keira came over to grab you as the rest of the girls headed into the changing rooms.

“yeah, of course. everything okay?” you asked her, secretly hoping she’d be coming to talk to you about an injury rather than leah, but you had no such luck.

“i heard about the wedding.” keira starts and you let out a sigh. “i know this probably doesn’t help but she’s really torn up y/n.”

“yeah, me and her both.” you scoffed defensively. you weren’t really angry at leah anymore, so you weren’t sure why you were acting like this, especially towards keira, but after being pretty torn up yourself for nearing a year and a half you didn’t feel like hearing how it was only now affecting leah. “i’m sorry, it was just a lot that’s all.”

“she keeps asking about you. told me to keep an eye on you, check if you were doing okay.” kiera revealed, “even before this.”

“really?” eyebrows raised, you questioned keira, thinking that leah pretty much continued having the time of her life after you moved away. 

“all the time. she still cares about you and you were really good together. you were good for her.” 

“she was good for me too, until she wasn’t.” you recalled, a sad smile gracing your face which didn’t go unnoticed.

“and i’m sorry you lost the rest of us too. she’s not the only one that’s been missing you. i feel like we haven’t had a proper conversation in ages.” she laughed.

“yeah, probably not.” you laughed a long with her. “but that’s probably more so my fault, just didn’t want to cause any tension, you know? so i’m sorry.” 

“you really don’t have anything to apologise for, y/n.” she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and lead you inside so she could get showered and changed before the hot water was no more.

“i’ve done enough crying this week, don’t make me start again.” you joked as you parted ways, you heading back to your office to get back to work for the afternoon and keira to the changing room. “oh and heads up, she’s coming to the game on saturday, bye!”

brilliant. great. fuck.

you’d expected to have a little bit more time before having to see leah again, let alone speak to her. you and her hadn’t had to come face to face for a year and a half and now you were seeing her twice inside of a month. you’d hoped you could get over your meeting by doing the same thing as last time, avoiding her, but turns out the universe had different plans this time. stupid universe. 

you tried to distract yourself from the imminent encounter with leah and went to dinner with alexia, ingrid and maria, knowing that was a safe place where leah wouldn’t be bought up for a couple of hours. you always had a good time with those girls and were grateful that they’d took you under their wing even though they really didn’t have to, you weren’t even on the team. 

another story post of you and alexia looking particularly friendly at dinner. leah had seen enough of these over the last year and a half but this one for some reason stung her just a bit more than the rest. she used her secret instagram account enough to realise how close you were with certain members of the barca team. she was happy that you’d settled in over there and yet she felt a pang in her heart at the fact that used to be you and her and her teammates. it still should be. 

leah wasn’t sure whether you knew about her coming to the game. she wasn’t sure whether she should go at all really but she hadn’t seen keira in a while, having missed out on the last national camp due to her knee. you came first though, more so now than ever. after your intense conversation, if you can call it that, at beth’s wedding, leah realised how much she’d dropped the ball towards the end of your relationship. you weren’t coming first to her; you weren’t being prioritised and yet you still did that for her. perhaps she was a bit naïve to think that you’d simply fallen out of love with her and that you’d grown apart naturally. everyday she regretted the fact she just let you walk out the door without fighting for you. she truly didn’t realise what she had until it was gone. she used to come back to a warm home with candles lit, dinner prepared and a stupid cheesy film ready to watch. realising that the warm home she felt she had, that you made, felt the exact opposite to you elicited gut wrenching feelings for her. 

had she ever stopped loving you? absolutely not. had she stopped appreciating you? yes, which she now realises had been her fatal flaw. stuck in her own head coming off the back of the euros success, dealing with fame and recognition that she didn’t realise she’d ever have. everybody wanted a piece of the england captain but she forgot to save a vital part of herself for you. this realisation had triggered something in leah, she needed you more than you’d ever know and she knew you needed her too. she’d give you everything you ever wanted, she’d pull the sun out of the sky for you if you asked and she wanted to show you, in one way or another. if you shot her down, or if she was too late then so be it but leah would be damned if she didn’t try her very hardest.

getting lost in her own thoughts she hadn’t realised she’d liked the instagram story you’d posted of yourself at dinner. thanking god, she was on her second account, until she realised she wasn’t religious and she was most definitely on her actual public verified account. you’d definitely seen it. you were out to dinner with your new friends, potentially a new girlfriend, and she’d just liked your story. your ex-girlfriend had just liked your story. maybe it would make it less weird if she followed you again and then liked your story, so she did, and it was still weird. leah felt a little like a stalker and maybe she was doing a bit of stalking, but she thought it was safe. now she was definitely nervous about seeing you on saturday.

you’d long been home from dinner, only posting about it once you’d all left the restaurant. fans could be a little bit crazy sometimes and you knew both barca and arsenal fans followed you on social media with you being both beth’s little sister and heavily featured on the girl’s accounts at one point or another. the notification came through to your phone as you were mindlessly scrolling through tiktok having tried to fall asleep and failed, your mind running rampant with thoughts of seeing leah again. as if someone had read your mind a notification came through from that exact woman. oh god, she’d liked your story. why would she like your story? why would she like your story and then follow you? maybe she was trying to make it less weird before the weekend. well, if that was her aim she hadn’t succeeded. 

“pick up, pick up, pick up.” you mumbled under your breath, pacing back and forth across your bedroom. “hello?” a voice came from the other side of the line.

“hello? oh, thank god you answered.” a sigh of relief left your mouth as your best friend picked up the phone, albeit she didn’t sound very happy to be answering but, nonetheless. 

“what do you want? it’s like midnight, i’m trying to sleep.”

“well if i can’t sleep neither can you. leah just refollowed me on instagram.” you practically shouted at her down the phone.

“okay, and?”

“and liked my story.” you paused and she didn’t answer, only hearing a huff down the phone so you continued, “of me and the girls out to dinner, specifically a picture of me and alexia.”

“no, i meant and as in like ‘and what’s your point?’. she followed you, you also used to sit on her face until like a year ago.” she pointed out, crudely. 

“oh my god!” you grimaced, “she also stopped following me as soon as i stopped doing that so this is a big deal.” 

“y/n/n, i’m not being funny but it’s really not. i mean you saw her like last weekend. she’s probably just trying to make amends.” she points out, just wanting to go back to sleep at this point and trying to make you feel better before she goes. 

“but this just makes this weekend so much more awkward now. like-“

“wait hold on, the weekend? what about the weekend?” she cuts you off. you realise you may have failed to mention that you had an inevitable encounter with leah approaching, having been distracted since keira told you earlier in the day. 

you sighed, “she’s coming to the quarter final. to see keira.” 

“well why didn’t you lead with that?” she was definitely awake now. “you’re gonna see her. she’s gonna talk to you.”

“do you not think i know that? that’s why i’m freaking out even more.”

“no don’t freak out. it’s a good sign.” she reassured you. ���she’ll probably try and speak to you and you didn’t leave things on a very good note, so the follow and the like is a good sign.”

“do you think?” you asked, biting down on your freshly manicured nails. another €40 down the drain now you’d have to get them done again. 

recalling the wedding your best friend tells you, “i know it’s a good sign. you didn’t see her after you argued at the wedding. you might’ve been crying in the bathroom, but she was in bits too. when i saw her, she was practicall shaking y/n, like really upset. i mean she made sure i knew where you were and went to you so it’s obvious, she still cares about you.”

“keira said the same thing.” you smiled to yourself.

“so, stop panicking. try and get some sleep, okay?” she tells you and you nod, forgetting she can’t actually see you, so you hum in response instead. “right, i have to go because i have a normal job that starts at 8am. not all of us can be a doctor to the stars.”

“i’m a physiotherapist.” you corrected her.

“you say tomato, i say tomato. goodnight, love you.”

“love you too.”

trying not to think about it, the next few days passed like a blur, filled with twinges of knees and possible injuries to which thankfully none were serious. with little anticipation, gameday rolled around. were you for sure going to see leah? no. was it a strong possibility? yes, especially with keira’s meddling. 

having a lovely view, thanks to alexia’s assurance, you watched from crowd as barca beat brann with a comfortable 3-1, earning themselves a place in the champions league semi-final. you applauded and cheered for the girls from your seat. frido soon noticed you though beckoning you to come join their celebrations on the pitch. as soon as the other girls noticed, it was clear that no one was taking no for an answer so you climbed over the barriers and with security reassured you weren’t a very dedicated fan, alexia helped you down to the pitch. 

you hadn’t seen leah yet today, beginning to think that maybe you’d come away unscathed, but she’d spotted you within the first 5 minutes of her arrival. maybe it was because she was actively looking for you but there was no proof of that so. she watched on from the pitch where keira had summoned her as the barca girls made you come down from the stands to celebrate with them. you never missed an opportunity to do that at arsenal either as leah’s girlfriend, beth’s sister or their physio. you were always there for the matches come rain or shine, win or lose and it was becoming increasingly more obvious that you weren’t there anymore. the conti cup final was happening in a couple of days and leah wished nothing more than for you to be in the stands where you belonged cheering her on, but instead you’d be here. 

“oi!” keira shoves leah out of her thoughts, “did you listen to a word i just said?” and looks around to see what had garnered leahs attention to which she found you in her sights. “stupid question, obviously not.”

“sorry.” leah mumbled, still yet to actually look away from you.

“you’re not sorry. you should go talk to her.” keira began her meddling. 

“yeah maybe in a bit.” leah smiled sadly at keira, the falseness of it not fooling her best friend for a second. 

you finally caught eyes with leah as alexia turned you in the direction of a funny sign that had her attention, but you found the blonde stood 15 metres from you a lot more interesting, especially the fact that she was already looking at you. so interesting that you hadn’t noticed alexia leaving until you felt her squeeze your arm and heard her tell you she’d be back in a minute. well now you were alone, the girls making their walk around the pitch to celebrate with the fans on the other side. you distracted yourself with a conversation with one of the medical staff that had been on the staff for today’s match, they informed you of the little niggles and twinges some of the girls had complained of during the game and half time. 

“muchas gracias. que pase buena noche.” (thank you so much, have a nice evening.) you thanked the woman with a smile as the rest of the medical team packed up to leave.

“de nada. buenas noches.” (you’re welcome. goodnight.)

pulling your phone out you made a note of what she’d told you. “hi.”

there she was. you wondered how long it would take between you seeing her and her approaching. 10 minutes apparently. “hi.”

“hello.” she said again, you giggling at the awkwardness she never seemed to grow out of. “wait i already said that.”

“yep, you did.”

leah was relieved that you were laughing, better yet that she was the one making you laugh, or even speaking to her after the way things had been left at beth and viv’s wedding. “can we talk?”

“ye-“ you were interrupted by a hold on your arm from a certain spanish midfielder. 

“estás bien?” (are you okay?) alexia asked, directing her attention to you not yet looking at leah. alexia knew all about your past relationship, you’d told her in one of your numerous physio sessions as she had told you about hers. well you hadn’t ever told her who it was only that said ex-girlfriend played alongside your sister but she’d figured it out with the small help of mapi telling her exactly who she was. 

“si, soy buena.”(yeah, i’m good.)  you smiled at her, not sure why she looked so worried for you. leah noticed your smile reached your eyes, a real genuine smile you were sending alexia. one she hadn’t coaxed out of you in some time, and she felt her heart sting once more. it was one thing seeing yours and alexia’s friendship or whatever it was through her phone screen but seeing it stand directly in front of her was worse than she thought.

“hola, leah.” once she saw that you were okay and seemingly unaffected (you were affected, just keeping it under wraps) by leahs approach, alexia turned her attention to her fellow blonde national captain. 

“hi. good game.” leah pulled alexia in for a handshake, trying not to let the jealousy that was bubbling inside her show on the outside. 

“oh, thank you. nice to see you.” alexia gave her a tight smile as she squeezed your hand and headed to follow the rest of the girls back inside. alexia was worried for her new friend, not wanting to see her return to the headspace she was in when she first arrived in barcelona. 

you and leah headed back towards the stands where coincidentally you’d only been sat a few rows apart. “how are you?” she asked as she gave you a hand to help you back over the barrier. 

“yeah, i’m good. how are you?”

“been better.” she sent you a sad smile. “i know you probably haven’t got much time but i just wanted to see if you’re up for getting a coffee or something before i go home on monday?” 

you were both surprised and not surprised at leah’s question. you’d expected to have a conversation with her but thought it might’ve happened today. mapi’s words of advice rang through your head. you did miss her a lot, you thought about her all the time. maybe having that closure without the arguing would help you process this. clearly, you’d been doing a pretty shitty job by yourself for the past year and a half if every time you saw her all the feeling came rushing back. 

“yeah actually, i’d like that. i’m free tomorrow morning?” you proposed.

“wait really? are you joking?” the smile appeared on her face. shed asked the question half expecting you to say no.

“obviously i’m not joking you idiot.” you laughed at her expression.

“tomorrows good. tomorrows so good.” she told you, still smiling widely. in reality, tomorrow wasn’t good. she had plans to go for breakfast with keira and her girlfriend tomorrow, but keira could wait. they’ll get lunch instead. 

should someone be this stressed to see their ex-girlfriend again? probably not. should they also be this stressed over what they look like to see their ex-girlfriend again? also, probably not.

you’d been up 2 hours before you were supposed to be after not sleeping much at all in the first place. you’d gotten your outfit ready last night, declining your invitation to the club with the team to celebrate to ensure that you had a fresh head in the morning. deciding that the outfit you’d chosen last night wasn’t good enough and you hated your entire wardrobe ended with about 4 outfit changes before you finally got in your car, 20 minutes after you were supposed to leave.

“i’m so sorry i’m late leah.” you rushed out as you sat across from her at the table shed been perched at for 25 45 minutes. 

“don’t worry, just had me thinking you weren’t going to show up.” she chuckled nervously, sliding the drink shed bough you over to you. “one iced latte with oat milk and one shot of vanilla and a shot of hazelnut.”

“you remembered.” you smiled at her. your coffee order had never changed in the years leah had known you and it hadn’t since. if you needed to be in work earlier than leah, there would be an iced latte on your desk promptly when she walked through the doors of the training centre. 

“hard not to remember when you probably consist of 90% iced latte.”

“so has keira shown you the barcelona sights?” 

“a few. found my favourite one yesterday at the game though.” she flirted. old habits die hard, i guess.

“i see you haven’t lost your charm miss williamson.” you laughed lightly. both of you dancing around the real reason leah asked you to meet.

“you seem really happy here, y/n/n.” leah pointed out. a bittersweet feeling to know that you were thriving somewhere else when she believed you should be in london, with her, but at least you were happy.

“yeah its been rough, i wont lie to you.” leah winced at your words, realising she’d been the reason for your move in the first place so she had no right to wish you were back in london. this was your home now. “you were a big part of my time in london so we said goodbye and then i had to say goodbye.”

“i know we left beth and viv’s on a sour note, but i really am genuinely sorry. for everything. the breakup, the neglect, the argument at the wedding. all of it.” she reaches across the small coffee table to grab your hand, something she always did to stop you biting at your painted nails. 

“you still have it?” you borderline gasped at the sparkle you noticed on leahs hand. as soon as you noticed she retracted her hand, as if moving it would somehow take back what you’d seen, but you held tightly.

“erm-“ she cleared her throat, not expecting you or anyone else to see that the ring you bought her still holds pride of place on her hand some days, today being one of them. “yeah, i just like to have it on sometimes. reminds me of a better time.” in reality, she was wearing it at the wedding and hadn’t taken it off since. how could she take the ring off if she hadn’t stopped thinking about the girl who gave it to her? 

“i didn’t mean to be so harsh towards you the other week, le.” you told her as you let go of her hand, falling back into your seat. “i think i just got overwhelmed. the whole day was a lot, you just got the brunt of it.”

“trust me i deserved it. if all i get of you these days is to be your punching bag, i’ll take it. it’s the least i can do.”

you chuckled sadly, knowing exactly what lead you and leah to this point but still wondering how you got here at the same time. “i miss you, y/n/n. i know i said it at the wedding, but it’s been a year and a half and some days i think i might be over it, that i might be ready to move on but i’m not and i’m really scared that i never will be.”

“i don’t want you to think that i don’t miss you because i do. all the time.” you confessed to her. “but that doesn’t change the fact that what happened and what you did really hurt me, leah. towards the end i was so afraid of you going to an event or a trip and leaving me that i didn’t realise i’d left myself behind already.”

leah hung her head. never in her life had she been so ashamed of how she’d treated someone, especially someone who loved and cared about her so deeply. you would have done anything for leah and a lot of the times you did. she always came first with you, and you did to her, until all of a sudden you didn’t. deep down you knew that it was partly to do with leah dealing with the sides of fame she never had to deal with before, becoming a household name within the space of a few weeks during the euros, but you also knew that you just weren’t her priority anymore whether she meant to do it or not. 

“but i’m really tired of being angry leah.” you continued, the word ‘but’ sending a slither of hope through leah as she looked back towards you. “and i do miss you, so id really like it if we could be friends again.”

“i’d really like that too. having you back in any capacity is more than i deserve and more than good enough for me.” leah smiled wider than you’d seen in a while. even on your stalks through instagram you knew that half those smiles were fake.  

“friends?”

“friends.”

the long awaited part 2! decided there will be at least 1-2 more parts of this just bare with me. enjoy🤍

[tsukimefuku]

the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery. 

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him. 

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long. 

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage. 

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it? 

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago. 

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling. 

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip. 

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary. 

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself. 

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. 

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days. 

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.” 

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity. 

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic. 

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you. 

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest. 

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt. 

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t..​. We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable. 

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else. 

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips. 

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?” 

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves. 

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering. 

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline. 

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed. 

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it. 

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again. 

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you. 

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him. 

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him. 

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out. 

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it. 

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.​

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so. 

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face. 

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.” 

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

-

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

[gay-dorito-dust]

❛ c’mon, we’d look cute together. ❜ promt with Aegon! I feel like he would be a little shit even to the ones he likes.

Summary: Aegon has been on your ass for a while now, so you barricade yourself within the library for a moment of reprieve.

Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, bane of your existence and a pain in your fucking backside. The twerp was like a thorn lodged in your side, too fickle to be removed by traditional means. For as long as you could remember Aegon had been your shadow, following you wherever you went whether that be the gardens, courtyard, library, kitchen, even to your own fucking chambers, Aegon was there with a smug smirk that you’d love nothing more then to wipe off by the means of your first to his face. His entire existence annoyed you to the point that you intentionally hide from him in whatever room was within the closest vicinity.

Once you hid in the library for an entire day knowing for certain that Aegon wouldn’t ever dare step foot in there; Especially when Aemond was known to occupy the library as though it were his chamber. The younger brother was made more then aware of Aegon’s incessant pursuit towards you by how often he would see you rush into the room; Slamming the door shut behind you whilst looking as though you had just set one of the dragons loose within the castle. “I have never, not once, ever seen my brother so determined about something before.” He said as he quickly finished reading a passage out of his book. “You haven’t slipped anything into his drink by any chance.” You only gave the prince a glare, “ha ha, very funny Aemond, don’t you think I would’ve done that just if it meant getting him off my arse for a fucking second?”

“Considering that this is Aegon we are talking about, I’m certain he’d rather be in your arse then on it.” Aemond put it bluntly, his lips graced with a small smirk when you groaned in annoyance, “all joking aside, I have never seen him this determined in perusing someone. It’s quite frankly horrifying to see him up so early.” Aegon was known to be a heavy sleeper, more so during his ventures out to the streets of silk; So seeing his brother get up anytime other then midday brought a lot into question for Aemond. The answer to all of his inquiries was currently attempting to blockade the door with a chair. “Well tell him to quit it or find another, less invasive method in perusing me before I end up hitting him where his future kids will most definitely feel it.” You replied, stepping back to view your work before turning your attention to Aemond who’s eye was gleaming in amusement.

“So your telling me there’s an slight window of opportunity for you to accept my brothers advances?” He hummed, his chin resting within the palm of hand as he caught onto the look of realisation that flash across your face as you recollected the phrasing of your prior words. “No I didn’t.” You curtly answered. “I’m afraid you did, sweet y/n.” Aemond taunted, thoroughly enjoying what he was now learning, “your putting words in my mouth.” You hissed as you turned to addresses the prince who looked about as smug as a cat in his chair. “Am I? Or are you in denial of the possibility that you do, in fact, like the attention my brother has been giving you recently?” You knew what Aemond was doing but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of getting under your skin, edging you to the point of an accidental confession; Mind games have always been his forte.

So you did what you could’ve done in that situation, change the subject and put him in the hot seat. “Why are you so invested in your brothers love life all of a sudden Aemond? Normally you wouldn’t give two shits with whom he fucks but right now your acting as though you were a gossiping lady of the court.” Aemond scoffs, fully aware of what you were doing. He didn’t blame you, forcing to admit favouritism towards his brother’s company was damming to one’s pride indeed. Even he has a hard time finding anything remotely favourable out of his brother’s company, especially ones that didn’t involve chasing him down the streets of silk and flea bottom whenever he were to allude his duties. “Oh please why would you-“ just as Aemond was about to finish his sentence, a voice from the other side of the door belonging to that of Ser Criston Cole.

“Prince Aemond, the Queen Alicent requests your audience.” You knew that Alicent didn’t liked to be kept waiting, so you walked over to the door and dislodged the chair from underneath the handle before suspicions were raised. “You wouldn’t want to keep the Queen waiting.” You told him, you see his eye linger on the stack of books on the table he was occupying and you sighed, “I’ll clear away your books, just get going.” Aemond wordlessly got up and crossed the room to the door, though not before casting you a thankful gaze before leaving the library with Ser Criston hot on his heels. With nothing else to do and no one else to talk with, you began clearing up and putting away books to their proper shelves which took you a substantial amount of time, and before you knew it afternoon had already fallen upon KingsLanding.

“I think I’ll head down to the gardens for a bit, just to stretch my legs and get some fresh air.” You told yourself for no other reason then verbal confirmation of what you were planning on doing as you stepped out of the Library, making sure to shut the door behind yourself before you were greeted with a pair of mischievously beautiful lilac eyes and a head of short platinum locks. “Aegon.” You breathed out, “what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine afternoon.” You continued through gritted teeth when the prince only smirked in response as he proceeded to grab a hold of your arm, linking it with his own before leading you both down the hallway. “No need to act so cordial towards me, I merely wanted to spend time with you today but couldn’t seem to find you anywhere. Little did I know you were tucked away in the library with my brother.”

The way Aegon’s voice seemed uncharacteristic towards the end made you look at him properly, just in time to see his lilac eyes darken with insecurity as his jaw subtly clenched whilst his grip on your hand tightened over yours absentmindedly. You almost completely forgot that underneath the facade was a boy born into a loveless family and crippling expectations; You almost felt upset for ignoring him, only to be rudely remembered that this was the same boy that tripped you over into a mud puddle and faked innocence along with the time he stole your clothes while you were bathing. How he had gotten in without you hearing his heavy ass breathing still alludes you and frightens you simultaneously. “Apologise my prince, I didn’t know my absence would affect you as much.” You replied, squeezing his hand.

“You can make it up to me by walking through the garden with me.” Aegon quickly suggested and when you didn’t reply fast enough for his liking, he began to whine and lean his weight into you. “C’mon, we’d look cute together, strolling through the gardens, hand in hand, arm in arm. Don’t you think?” Aegon at this point was on the brink of desperation. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he had been trying to find you, almost turned the red keep upside down in the process throughout the duration of his search for you. All he wished for is that he got to have your company even if it was for a short period of time. Aegon just wanted to let his guard down and the only way he could do that was whenever he was with you. So when you sighed and agreed to accompany him, the prince was practically dragging you do the hall with his long strides as you struggled to keep up.

Despite regretting your easy acceptance towards his offer, you found yourself looking upon Aegon’s face to see that the shadows of doubt and regret have retreated from his features and the worry lines usually seen across his forehead had subsided for far happier ones. If Aemond’s words from earlier were to be believed and that Aegon had been determined in being within your presence and how your body receipted to his…peculiar advances. Then yes, you might’ve favoured Aegon’s undivided attention being on you and solely you. The mere thought of being desired and sought after to the point it drives that person into desperation because of how sorely sought after you were. It made you feel things. It made you feel wanted. “You’re a brat you know.” You said softly as you rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the muscles within his body tense at your words, “however I’d rather you be my brat then anyone else’s. I’d want you to be my problem to deal with for the rest of my life.”

“As long as you be mine in return,” Aegon replied softer then usual, pressing a kiss to your head, “for now and for always.”

[vitaminseetarot]

Butterfly PAC: What Will Your Next Falling in Love Feel Like? 🦋💕

Some think love can be measured by the amount of butterflies in their tummy. Others think love can be measured in bunches of flowers, or by using the words 'for ever.' But love can only truly be measured by actions. It can be a small thing, such as peeling an orange for a person you love because you know they don't like doing it. Marian Keyes

Sup y'all and welcome back to my free PAC readings! Thank you so so much for your patience with this particular post. It's been a busy week and it'll only get busier! I haven't done many love readings in the past as my readings focused solely on the querent. I decided to keep it simple and focus on that (frankly addicting) feeling of falling in love for the first time with someone.

There are four butterflies to choose from today to show you how it will feel like for you the next time you fall in love. If you're already with someone, this can represent how it feels when your partner does something truly special for you, what the right signal feels like.

As always you can choose more than one.

Pile 1, Blue Morpho Pile 2, Orange Monarch Pile 3, Red Peacock Pile 4, Emerald Swallowtail Pile 5, Purple Emperor

Pile 1: Blue (Morpho)

XVIII Moon; Rest, Inspiration, Let it Be, 28. Blessed Sight; X Wheel of Fortune, 5 of Pentacles, XIII Death, XIV Temperance

I pulled your oracle cards before your tarot, and before I did I said "this must be my Pisces pile". Then BOOM I got the Moon card dead center. You may be drawn to this pile if you have a lot or important Pisces placements, but I think it also very well describes the general energy of this pile.

Your next falling in love will be like a dream, or something that came from your dreams. Your person may remind you of someone you once met in your dreams even. It will feel as though your crush will be as a glowing light in the dark that warms you as you move forward into the unknown. If you're with someone, they could be showing up in your dreams more and more--there could even be a case of you both receiving signals about each other.

You're comfortable with letting fate be the guiding hand in you you'll meet next and what your partner will be like. Notice how in two cards we see closed eyes? One is resting, while the other is still walking to where she wants to go. There is a certain faith about this pile, you feel in your heart that the one you're seeking is out there and that you will not need to put yourself in uncomfortable situations to find them.

With this, sometimes you may falter and feel disheartened when you feel other people meeting their match while you're still watching the clouds roll by in the shape of your dreams. Fate combines both luck and change. Don't be afraid to sit back and let the process unfold before you. It doesn't mean you can expect your dream crush to come knocking on your door (although they could!), you can put yourself out there and mingle. This is an internal sense, adopt the intuition of letting the little guiding lights connect together and guide you when they are ready to.

Pile 2: Orange (Monarch)

XII Hanged One; Abundance, Pause, Determination, 11. Inspiration; XI Justice, King of Cups, 3 of Swords, 10 of Wands

This pile has likely had relationships in the recent past which may not have worked out. Or there were some romantic prospects where things didn't line up right. It seems like you're working on bringing yourself back into alignment where you can focus more on your personal goals in life. While there's nothing wrong with that, this question is about what it will feel like the next time you're in love. And I have to remind those who need this message that it's okay to take the time you need to recover.

But when you're finally ready to emerge back into the dating world, or if you're planning to, you will need to do so with open arms. Not the same as naïveté. Not the same as being in the same situations or patterns that didn't work out before. But you will need to push aside negative feelings telling you it won't work out again before you can move further with other singles. If you're in a relationship it's likely that your partner wants to see your emotional qualities more, they want you to open up so they can do the same. They want to work side-by-side with you and help you.

You're a strong individual when it comes to reaching your goals. With that said, it's okay to let others, specifically your next partner, help you out in areas you normally excel in. It will help loosen the tension a lot and bring ease to your abundance mindset. Support is with you and you don't need to do it alone. Let your crush carry some of the extra bags for you and help you relax. And don't think that by doing this you're somehow limiting yourself from reaching your future goals. If anything, your crush will help you move ahead. Your crush will want to see you CRUSH it in the board room. You will feel 100% backed and protected by your next love.

Also I wanted to add that when I did the reading for this pile, a little moth landed on my door's window and stared at me upside down like the Hanged One! Not a butterfly, but close enough! Moths talk about what you're intuitively drawn to, but also confusion following paths (since artificial light messes with their navigation). Let moths be your animal sign for when you're soon to meet your next love. They will help to guide you towards the better light.

Pile 3: Red (Peacock)

7 of Wands; Mystery, Desire, Wisdom, 24. Heal Thyself; 3 of Pentacles, VI Lovers, Queen of Cups, 7 of Wands (x2)

Pile 3, I'm glad I chose the beautiful red Peacock butterfly for your reading because this pile is incredibly bold! You got 7 of wands twice. It doesn't seem as though you're scared to stand out of the crowd to attract your next crush. Similarly, you want the same in your partner. You may be looking for someone who's strong and assertive, and maybe loves to put on a good show for people (as we have Mars in Leo here).

You could be into punk, or darker music genres. Your next love will be fiery, but won't show all their cards. They leave just enough detail for you to want to know more, I think they'd like to egg you on or tease you (but not in a mean way). This person could be way more intelligent than they may let on initially. You'll feel challenged by them, in a refreshing way. They may invite you to debate or play something competitive with them.

I think there's one thing that must be greatly noted with this pile, and that's remembering to stop and take some time for yourself. It doesn't mean stepping out of the dating scene. There's a fine line to walk between meeting someone who's very attractive at face level and the love that comes from genuine compatibility. Lovers speaks about integrating these two parts as one instead of thinking it's one or the other.

You also need to make sure to prioritize your own needs as well rather than get caught up in the heat of passion. I don't think this pile struggles at all with passion, but some emotional discretion is advised here. There could have been people surrounding past relationships who weren't really supportive of who you were with. Whether or not they were in the "right", it's left you a bit defensive over who you choose to be with. Please remember to take time away from every influence to listen to your own inner voice.

Pile 4: Green (Emerald Swallowtail)

King of Pentacles; Stop, Pause, Goals, 23. Big Picture; 2 of Cups, XVII Star, XIV Temperance, 6 of Cup

Oh wow, pile 4. Stop and Pause side by side, and then we have Goals on the bottom. Stopping goals! Says who?! Not you, Emerald Swallowtail, with the King of Pentacles in front. You must be a very career or school driven group. Money savvy, ambitious, and unafraid to chart unknown territory. You'll definitely be a catch for the next person you fall for.

Except it doesn't seem like you're in the mood for the dating scene at all. Not in the fun and casual sense anyway. You want someone serious and committed, right off the bat. Someone who's fiscally responsible and likely as driven as you. You want someone who comes right in, sits down, and presents themselves as a good partner as though they're interviewing for a job hoping the star will stand out of the pack. Mainly, you want to know exactly what you're in for before sticky things like emotions even enter the picture.

This pile seems similar to my pile 2. Maybe somebody in the past told you that as soon as you marry or get serious with someone, it's gonna affect your career or your stability and that sacrifices will inevitably be made. That seeking any kind of relationship is like stepping over huge boulders hoping your ankle won't fall through between the cracks. The thing is, emotions are already involved in this. Your next love will make you feel stable and secure, knowing that you don't have to push too hard to get by.

Moreover, your next love will LOVE that you're career oriented. They will not be threatened by your achievements. They can help you bring balance between the adult side of you that's disciplined and focused and the little kid in you who wants to play and explore. Your next love will help you expand beyond what you thought was possible in a relationship. You'll be half of a real power couple who can tackle anything together with forces combined.

Pile 5: Purple (Emperor)

6 of Wands; Ideation, Open Heart, Hibernation, 2. Understanding; XII Hanged One, 10 of Cups, Page of Swords, 7 of Wands

Hi, lovely pile 5! Your next love will simply make you feel like you're actually radiating. Notice all the little diamonds on the 6 of wands as well as the Ideation card? Your next love will feel more rare than diamonds, it will have you shining like one. There is such warmth with this pile, it's like the sense of having a good looking musician with a great smile gently guide your hand up on stage to let you be part of the show. Even if you're the shy type to stand back, your crush will rave about you enough to have you blushing. They'll root for your success even when you'd rather be modest.

I get with this pile that you may be slow to open up with new people, and that you would prefer to take your time in meeting someone serious. You may be just starting to dip your feet in the dating scene, perhaps for the first time. You're realizing that it's one thing to imagine what it'd be like to go out and meet new people, but it's another to actually do it. But I don't see any reason to worry too much here. Even if you come off as shy, people can sense the glow of your aura. You have a quiet but unabashed confidence and may attract that in your next partner as well.

If there's one thing I can advise for you, pile 5, is to avoid being over critical about who you would rather be or NOT be with. I mean overcritical about the little things. Try to avoid saying things like "I can't be with someone who chews too loud" because you could meet the love of your life where that happens to be their one and only flaw. If you allow compassion to rule here, then it will return back to you ten fold.

Your next love feels so smooth and romantic, your next crush will want to woo you. They will really go out their way to impress you and while they can be comfortable inside the house on rainy days, likely there will be chances to travel and share new experiences abroad. They'll love being with you but will work to warm you up to the wonders of life. They will yearn for your happiness, pile 5, your bliss will be their success! When your heart tells you it's safe, allow yourself to wander into a new adventure with someone who lights up your world inside and out.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[hijinks-n-lowjinks]

fic recs masterlist pt 2

So here's a part two to my first fic rec list because I thought the first list was too long to add more or I've only read them more recently

Haikyuu!

you're all i see, you're all i need by DailyMelody: iwaoi fic where iwaizumi lies to his family that he and oikawa are dating and he slowly realizes they haven't been faking their feelings, nsfw in the last chapter

Sprout, Bloom, Grow by SpaceJammie: matsuhana and iwaoi fic from the perspective of matsukawa, this is probably my fav hq I'm keeping up with rn, the characterizations and story are so deep and well written, unfinished

Let the Light Out by UhohShouto: post canon kagehina fic where kageyama realizes he's super into hinata and they make a bet that leads to them smooching and doing much more, nsfw

what i really mean by solyn: kuroken fic where they're both sort of clueless about their feelings while everyone else around them knows they're in love, nsfw

it drives you crazy getting old by atsumusbiceps: a sakuatsu 13 Going On 30 au that's absolutely adorable, omi is in love from the beginning but atsumu thinks being angry and attracted to someone is normal

Gray in the Middle. by DeadDrabble (MisakillDatMonkey): crazy good sunaosa fic where suna is a model and osamu is his new assistant, the development of their friendship while osamu slowly gets to see the real suna and coming to see the toxicity of the fashion industry, unfinished, future nsfw

Sakusa Kiyoomi's Short and Unhelpful Guide To Falling In Love by honest_pebble: sakuatsu fic where omi asks for atsumu to kiss one drunken night and they can't seem to keep their hands off each other in the months after

i pretend you're mine, all the damn time by theglitterati: bokuaka high school fic where bokuto is nervous about his lack of experience when a girl asks him out so he asks akaashi to help him learn how to kiss, very cute and silly

sleeping with strangers by starbeyy: kagehina fic where kageyama is a lawyer that's afraid of attachment and only sleeps with strangers until he gets an extremely cute client that makes him less afraid, nsfw in later chapters

Take a hint by badreputation: sunaosa fic where suna doesn't realize osamu is trying to woo him and is just an oblivious dummy

i sing the body electric by viverella: iwaoi getting together fic where iwaizumi beings to realize he doesn't have entirely platonic feelings about his best friend

dearly departed by radiantradish: daisuga ghost au where suga is stuck in limbo while he's in a coma and daichi is a firefighter that keeps dreaming about him

Winter is Red by MeikoAtsushi: technically this is the sunaosa spin-off to their original sakuatsu fic but the premise is that osamu can see the red threads of fate that tie soulmates together but he doesn't have one and falls in love with suna anyway, this fic is fucking PAINFUL because osamu is determined to make his life miserable and try to push suna away but he can never stay away for long, nsfw

the posterior probablity by izayas: sakuatsu au where omi is a professor and atsumu is an m.d. who's taking his class and they fall in love lol

SunKissed by Paintbrushyy_Ducky98: bokuaka fic where akaashi's family's new pool boy is really cute and he sort of seems familiar... nsfw

favor from the boy you can't resist by crossbelladonna: bokuaka fic where bokuto asks akaashi to be his fake boyfriend and things go as well as you'd expect

Miles by lettersinpetals: kuroken post canon/during chapter 402.1 fic where kuroo is very aware of his love for kenma but is convinced kenma doesn't feel the same

Night Moves by fluorophoring: kuroken fic where they just keep hooking up at night without actually dating or discussing their feelings, heavy nsfw

What to Do (to You) by Mooifyourecows: iwaoi fic where matsuhana set them up on a blind date despite already being roommates and having crushes on each other, nsfw

take me the way i am by almostsophie1: kuroken fic where kuroo wants to know if kenma is willing to have sex with him just to "practice", nsfw obviously

spill my guts by wasted: bokuaka fic where akaashi is a massive pining simp and doesn't know what to do about his crush

Legend Has It by sifuhotman: sunaosa crime au??? i literally think about this fic all the time and how it's not finished, such an interesting plot with osamu as a detective and suna is a con artist who has connections to some underground crime syndicates, the last chapter posted legit made me cry, i really identify with osamu in this fic, nsfw in later chapters

Miscellaneous

Apple of Your Eye by Kattythingz: sk8 renga fic but it's if Adam became obsessed with Reki instead of Langa, highkey NUTS how good Adam's characterization is because you want to bash his skull in with a hammer

A Crown of Gems and Gold by Kattythingz: fma edling fic that's basically a rewrite of the entire series but if edling got together soon after their first meeting, the best characterization, action, and dialogue ever utilized in writing, unfinished but ongoing

Always an Angel, Never a God by oktsukki: jjk satosugu au where hidden inventory didn't end as bad as they did in canon, a lot of good healing and characterization

lights out by phollie: hxh killugon fic where killua is just very soft about gon as gon shows him around the island he grew up on

Sword of Damocles by orphan_account: mp100 terumob au fic where teruki asks mob out as a joke but he actually starts to fall for him

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-nineteen

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I realized today that Sarah and I have been working on this story for almost TWO MONTHS. Holy shit. Talk about a slow burn! I don't think it's ever taken me this long to write an active story. Also, there are a few sentences in Greek and Italian in this chapter. You can find the translations at the end of the chapter.

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic

NOAH

My knee bounced in a tangent along with the clock on the wall behind Dr. Poulos as she tilted her head towards me, waiting for my answer. 

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” I blinked slowly. 

She gave me a small smile, tapping her pen on her notebook; something I’ve realized she did when she was ready to ask me a hard-hitting question. 

“How have the panic attacks been?” Dr. Poulos wondered. 

“Uh,” I rubbed my jaw. “It’s been better, I suppose. I still feel them starting every once in a while but my friends have been great at helping me through them.” 

“That’s great,” she smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. I know it was a problem for you from our first session.” 

“Yeah, I’ve come to realize there were a few aspects of my life that hindered me more than helped me.” 

Dr. Poulos’ brows raised. “Like what?” 

“Up until recently, I would drink; a lot. And smoke weed every so often. People say it’s the lesser of the drugs but it affected me in such a way that I didn’t like the man I saw in the mirror. Same with the alcohol. So, I’ve decided to become sober.” 

That spread a wider smile on her face. “I’m proud of you, Noah. It’s not an easy thing to overcome but to see how determined you are makes me very happy.” 

I ran my hands over my thighs while standing up straighter on the couch; her positive praise made my heart beat a bit faster. 

“I just want to be the healthiest I can be. Your body is a temple, ya know? It’s only been a few weeks but I can already tell a difference in the way I sing.” 

“That’s exceptional, Noah. I’m happy to hear that. It’ll help the course of your life. But I must ask, do you feel it’ll leave a part of you open and willing to accept the love you think you deserve?” 

I pursed my lips. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, as you mentioned previously, it sounds like Y/N has had some complicated relations with a man who was in a state of addiction. Do you feel that maybe, a part of your being sober can help you leave that part finally open? Allow you to see that you can be loved.” 

When I remained silent, letting her words rest in my mind, Dr. Poulos shut her notebook and set it on the table between us; next to one of those sand zen garden things. 

“What you're doing with Bailey and hiding your true feelings for Y/N doesn't seem to be helping, right?” 

I shook my head with a long sigh. “I never meant for things to go this far.” 

Dr. Poulos leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, stippling her fingers. 

“Has Y/N ever given you a reason to doubt the things you say to her?” 

“No. Never,” I answered without missing a beat. 

“Then what’s stopping you from telling her how you feel?” She brushed a strand of brown-graying hair from her eyes. 

With Dr. Poulos’ words replaying in my mind, I sat down on the steps of her office while clicking on Bailey’s contact name on my phone. As it rang, I tapped my fingers on my knee to drum a random beat. 

“Hey, it’s Bailey. Leave me a message!’

Cursing to myself, I wished that she had answered because I didn’t want to do this with her voicemail but I had no other option. This needed to be done. 

“Bailey, it’s me- Noah,” I sighed while pinching my eyes shut. “Listen, I didn’t want to do this over text or on your voicemail. But I thought it best you hear me say this. I wanted to discuss it with you the other day but shit came up.” 

My eyes watched as a few people walked past on the sidewalk in front of me. 

“Look, I never wanted to hurt you, you’re a nice girl but this-us-isn’t working for me. I’m-I’m sorry if this hurts you. Truly. I’m not good at words all the time but I will say that I wish you the best and I hope you have a nice life.” 

After hanging up, I could physically feel the weight lift off my shoulders and heart. Breathing was easier and lighter, so with this newfound feeling, I quickly dialed Y/N’s number. 

“Mochi!” 

I could hear the smile in her voice.

“Hi, angel. Are you busy?” I asked while rising from the steps to walk a few steps to my car that was parked in the street. 

“I’m walking into an appointment right now. Can I call you later?”

Ignoring the way my heart dropped, I started my car and sat there for a moment. 

“Of course. I’ll be in the studio but I’ll always answer for you.” My hand ran over the steering wheel. 

“So sweet,” Y/N chuckled and my stomach fluttered. “There’s a reason why I gave you that nickname.” 

We quickly said our goodbyes and my mind was filled with the heavy conversation I needed to have with Y/N. I didn’t even realize the familiar figure bounding up the steps of the same office I left mere minutes ago, her yellow sundress flowing in the wind.

READER

My eyes were trained on the small sand zen garden on Dr. Poulos’ table as she tapped her pen against the notebook in her lap. The clock ticked annoyingly loudly behind her, almost mocking me as I continued to leave her question unanswered. 

“Y/N,” Dr. Poulos’s voice was firm, breaking me from my trance. “You mentioned your mother contacted you the other day?” 

I played with the hem of my yellow sundress. “Uh, yeah. She doesn't do it often but when she does, she really lets her feelings known.” 

“And what are those feelings?” 

“The same bullshit. My mom doesn’t agree with the lifestyle I’ve chosen. She thinks it's a waste of time,” I shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s who she is. Being Greek, I was raised to have large but realistic dreams. My father on the other hand wanted and still wants me to follow my heart, he wants me to go after what I want, what I need. There’s a line between both of them.”

“You know,” Dr. Poulos tucked a strand of her brown-graying hair behind her ear. “There’s a study that says insecure attachment styles can develop as a result of poor parenting. Research indicates that attachment in childhood affects the development of familial, social, and romantic relationships later in life. Do you feel this has deeply affected or influenced your relationships? 

I pursed my lips. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you’ve had a pattern of falling for men who aren't good for you yet believing they are real love when you know subconsciously you deserve better.” 

“Maybe,” the word trailed off my lips, uncertainty weighing heavy on my heart. 

Dr. Poulos hummed, crossing one leg over the other. “It sounds that way, doesn’t it? Are you running from Noah because you’re afraid you’ll disappoint him? Afraid he’ll do what your mother often does? You’ve seen the way your parent's marriage was like growing up, that has to be a hindering factor, doesn't it? 

My jaw ticked. “My mother was unfair to my father. I’d never do that or treat anyone that way.” 

“I know you won’t, Y/N. You know it yourself, deep down in your heart,” she patted a hand over her own heart. “Because from what you told me about Noah, I don’t believe that he would act the way your mother has. You won’t disappoint him. And he doesn’t want to do that to you either.” 

I shook my head widely. “He’s with someone else so it doesn't even matter.” 

A small smile lifted at the corner of her lips. “Quite the contrary, Y/N. You said it earlier you wanted to tell him the truth. He isn’t your mother and again, from what you’ve told me it sounds like you both may want the same things. You’re just not trusting yourself. You’re relying on your trauma and issues with your mother to get in the way.” 

“Wow, nice observation,” I snorted. “How am I supposed to fix that?” 

Dr. Poulos ignored my snarky attitude. “If your mother has been unreliable, then you may need to lean on other people who are for support. Socializing with friends and learning to be vulnerable with others can help increase emotional connection.” 

“Malcolm and Chase are reliable,” I stated. 

“It sounds like it, from what you’ve told me,” she nodded. “There’s also Noah. His support can take some time to develop but having stable relationships with others can be part of healing. And most of all, self-care.” 

I left therapy with a hopeful heart and bright smile. Dr. Poulos always knew what I needed to hear as much as I tried to fight it. Peaking down at my phone, my pulse quickened when I noticed a missed text from Noah.

Mochi 🍡: New episode of Attack on Titan dropped. I can pick up lunch. Your place or mine?

Giggling, I typed out my response, not letting anything ruin this euphoric high I felt.

NOAH

I stood outside Y/N’s front door, shaking out the nerves, and knocked on it. I had a bag of take-out food in my hand, something she requested from her favorite burrito place. 

“Hi,” she smiled while letting me in. “Did you remember the Dr. Pepper?” 

I chuckled while holding up the cup. “Light ice.” 

As we set out the food on the table in their dining room, I motioned towards the various easels and splattered pain on the carpet. “Studio?” 

“Yeah,” Y/N gave a sheepish smile. The lighting in here is better than my bedroom; although not by much.” 

I took in the various paintings of abstract lines and colors, some of random landscapes, and one of Salem. 

“These are really good, angel.” 

“I’m glad I decided to do this. Painting has been a great way to escape from reality, even for a little bit,” she took a bite of her burrito. “Oh, extra guac? How’d you know?” 

I shrugged. “I just do.”

We ate in silence for the next few long moments and as much as I tried to quiet the loud voices in my mind that screamed at me to tell Y/N the truth right now, it was extremely difficult. 

My eyes took in the glimmer of her bracelet as she reached for the chips and I couldn't stop the smile that spread wide to my lips. Y/N was still wearing the jewelry I bought her and it made me feel proud. 

“Where’s Chase and Malcolm?” I asked, noticing the quiet.

Y/N took a large drink of her soda, reveling in the taste. “Hiking. They left earlier this morning and typically don’t come back till later. So I have the place to myself.”

Just as I was about to speak, a persistent knock sounded on the front door, and she turned towards it with a confused stare. 

“Expecting anyone?” 

She shook her head. “Nope. Probably someone selling Girl Scout cookies.” 

“If they have Thin Mints, I’ll take four boxes,” I called after Y/N. 

Her laugh echoed throughout the room but soon seized when she opened the door. I noticed the way her body went rigid and I slowly rose in time to see a tall but petite brunette all but push her way inside. 

“Hi, koukla. I would have texted or called but it seems like you have an issue with checking your phone,” the lady peered around the space, a sour look on her lips. 

“Mo-mom? What are you doing here?” 

Shit. 

I knew there was a history with Y/N’s mom but never knew how deep it ran. 

“I was in town and thought to surprise you. Since you never talk to me anymore,” her mom tsked. 

Finally, her eyes landed on me, standing in the threshold of the living room and dining room; gaze hardening. 

“Who’s this?” She asked Y/N. 

Internally I snorted at how she asked Y/N rather than asking me. 

“I’m Noah,” I introduced myself while brushing away the strands from my face. 

Her mom hummed before nodding towards the back end of the house. “Give me and my daughter some privacy.” 

“Mom!” Y/N seethed. 

Noticing how the tension shifted, I gave Y/N a soft smile. “It’s alright. I’ll go say hi to Salem.” 

With my back to them, I walked down the hall and heard her mom mutter something in Greek. 

“Giatí échei makriá malliá?” 

“Eísai apísteftos,” Y/N responded in a stern voice. 

Sitting in the Y/N’s bedroom with Salem perched on my lap, I left the door wide open so I could listen in on the conversation. It may have been wrong to eavesdrop but something deep inside of me told me to be on edge, just in case.

“You should have called, Mom,” Y/N said. 

“You never return my calls.” 

“Gee, I wonder why. You exactly haven’t been that peachy the last few times we’ve talked.” I could hear the slight edge in Y/N’s voice. 

“I thought I’d told you I don’t appreciate the way you speak to me.” 

“It’s a two-way street, Mom. You get what you give.” 

Salem purred loudly in my lap and I continued to scratch him in the spot I knew he loved; between his ears. 

“I’ve always hated when your father used that line,” her mother sighed. 

Someone was pacing, their footsteps echoing loudly down the hall, and I peered down at Salem. 

“Your mom seems pretty upset right now,” I frowned at the feline. 

His bright green eyes stared back at me, simply demanding one thing silently; more pets to which I obliged. 

“Have you been to the doctor lately?” 

“Since when do you care, Mom? You never ask how I’m doing.” 

Salem jumped off of me when I slowly rose to my feet, deciding that I needed to be closer to Y/N, just in case. 

“I know how bad Endometriosis affects you, Y/N. I’m simply wondering.” 

I could almost hear Y/N roll her eyes as I neared the end of the hallway, out of sight but could still see just enough. Y/N stood with her hands on her hips while her mom sat comfortably on the couch. 

“I’m fine.” Y/N kept her answers short. 

Her mother pursed her lips. “And how’s the career?” 

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes at the way she said career. 

Y/N snorted. “Please, like you give a shit.” 

“Watch your language!” 

“You’ve never supported me with my music. Hell, with any of my dreams. So don’t start acting like you give a shit now. 

Her mom rose to her feet, narrowing her gaze. “That’s not true. I only want what’s best for you, Y/N. You don’t want to end up like your father and be stuck.” 

“He wasn’t stuck,” Y/N scoffed while clenching her fists. 

Her mother clicked her tongue while brushing away Y/N’s hair from her face. “Yes, sweetie, he was. And I’m telling you, no man will want to deal with someone that’s always on the road. What man is going to wait around or understand this lifestyle? What future are you gonna have?”

My jaw clenched at hearing those words because I knew it wasn’t true. There was a man who wanted Y/N; me. I would wait for years if I had to. Whenever she was ready, I’d be here. 

But hearing how her mom talked to her made me realize that there was a reason why Y/N never spoke of her and why she was so apprehensive of any future relationship. 

“We’re not talking about this,” Y/N stepped away from her mom to stand on the other end of the couch, giving more space between them. 

“Once again, you’re avoiding a tough subject. I didn’t raise you this way,” her mother chastised. 

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Raised me? Are you fucking kidding me? You barely were home, too busy focusing on your career leaving Dad home to raise me!” 

I smirked at hearing Y/N mock her mother in how she said career moments before. 

“Your father was always your favorite. But it was me you stayed with after the divorce!” Her mother's voice was raised. 

Fearing this would end in such a bad way, I pulled my phone to send a text to Chase. 

Me: Y/N’s mom is here and I’m afraid shit is about to hit the fan. What should I do?

His response came almost immediately. 

Chase: Fuck. Whatever you do, Noah. Don’t leave. Stay until we get there. Every time her mom either contacts her or shows up, Y/N goes into a dark place. Malcolm and I are leaving right now and should be back in an hour.

I swallowed thickly as my stomach dropped. If the guys were worried about Y/N’s mom being here, it could only mean one thing. 

Disaster. 

“I stayed with you because you made me feel guilty!” Y/N choked on a sob. “For years I wondered why I didn’t feel a connection with you so I thought staying with you would bring us closer. But instead, you dropped the you’re adopted bomb on me; on my birthday!”

Her mother had the audacity to shrug. 

“You probably would have found out eventually. I simply sped up the process.” 

Y/N shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“Because I tell the truth? You think people are going to stay with you with the lifestyle you’ve chosen?” 

“Oh, gods, we’re back on this again?” Y/N ran a hand through her hair. “I have a lot of people that support me.” 

 “Who? Your friend?” Her mom pointed a firm finger towards the hallway where I was still hiding around the corner. “Do you think he is going to wait around?” 

For years if I have to. 

“No. No one will, Y/N. You’re like your father with these pipe dreams.” 

“Pipe dreams? I didn’t realize wanting a family was a pipe dream,” Y/N spat. 

Her mother gave her a somber smile, clicking her teeth. “Kouklamou, I thought we talked about this. You can’t have a family, not the traditional way anyway. You need to realize that no man is going to want to go through all that trouble to have a child. It’s not worth it.” 

Y/N and I both flinched at the same time, those words almost verbatim with what Trey used to say to her. There I stood, my fists clenched by my sides, I rolled my shoulders back, glaring towards the petite brunette with dark eyes. 

I was feeling triggered while I observed this entire thing; it felt intrusive at first but now feels like I’m behind fifty feet of glass.

It made sense now, why this loving bond between Y/N and I was inaccessible. In this mode, I had to take great care not to damage these bonds of love, this relationship, this friendship, and this woman in front of me, who very early on became everything to my heart and soul. For in time, the glass disappeared and my love returned stronger.

I understood.

From my corner, I could see how the kitchen table had seen every emotion, from the sweet silent happiness of family times, when the only sound is contented enjoyment, to the rage that bursts out in the hard times; I understood. 

I refused to stand there and let it sour, not to her. Never to her.

Sobs played like a sad tune and I noticed Y/N was crying, hastily whipping away the tears. 

“I can’t believe I continue to let you in my life, knowing how you’ll treat me. Girls are supposed to look up to their mothers as idols, to learn from them how to be mothers. But you’ve shown me how not to treat my kids in the future.” 

“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. The chances of you becoming a mother are not in the cards for you. Neither is this musical career. You need to face reality.”

Fuck this. 

As I stepped into view of them, Y/N pointed to the front door. “I don’t need you to come in here and tell me how to run my life, I’m done with this.” 

“Y/n-.” 

“You heard her,” I spoke while standing next to Y/N, immediately wrapping my arm around her shoulder to pull her into my chest. 

My heart broke at how quickly she grasped onto my shirt, not wanting me to let her go. 

“Excuse me? This is a private matter between my daughter and me. This doesn't concern you,” her mom’s eyes sliced into me. 

“It does. Because it’s Y/N.” 

Her mom’s gaze bounced between the two of us, almost waiting for Y/N to object to my words, but instead, she stood firm, sniffing away her tears. 

“You need to leave.” 

With one final glare, Y/N’s mom snatched her purse off the couch while muttering something Greek under her breath before she slammed the door behind her; all the negative energy leaving in waves. 

“Y/N,” I tried to make her look at me but she kept her head cast down. 

“I can’t, Noah,” she cried. 

I lifted her chin with a firm finger and sucked in a breath as broken, bloodshot eyes stared back at me. 

“Don’t ever hide from me, angel. You know that.” 

Y/N kept her gaze firm on my face. “She does this every time. I don’t know why I continue to let her. I’m just a girl who wants her mother's love, is that so wrong?” 

“Angel,” I murmured while pulling her into my embrace, brushing a kiss across her forehead. 

NOAH

My fingers drummed against the marble counter in front of me while Davis set out various ingredients. We were currently streaming the two of us cooking BLTs, something for the fans to enjoy and watch. I was reading some of the comments, smiling at a few then cringing at some others. 

Davis handed me a block of cheese. “Cut this up for me, would ya?” 

With it in one hand, I playfully spit on my hand before giving it a nice smack. 

“Hm, imagining that someone's ass?” He smirked under his breath. 

I gave him a light shove. “Fuck off.” 

We spent the next long while goofing off and having fun for the stream. It was nice to let my mind focus on something else besides Y/N and her mom. I spent the rest of the night at her place, holding her in my arms as she cried herself to sleep. The familiar scent of her lingered on me as I tucked her softly in her bed. Before I walked out of her house, I ran into Chase and Malcolm, whose parting words stuck with me all day.

“She needs you more than she’ll admit. It may not seem like it but she does.” 

Y/N texted me this morning to thank me for being there for her and say that if she went M.I.A for a while today, it’s only because Hollow Souls were in the studio recording. I didn't ask how she was feeling after the surprise visit from her mom. Y/N would tell me, if she wanted to, when she was ready.

“Alright, let’s read some comments,” Davis suggested as we finished up the cook-off; me winning.

He held Max in his hands, every so often giving him kisses. As I read a few comments out loud and responded, the dog practically begged me for attention when a familiar username appeared on the screen. 

Y/NHollowSouls: Noah Sebastian, I swear to Hades himself. You kiss Max right now or I’ll come over there and kick your ass.

I laughed while shaking my head. “Alright, Max. Come here! Let me give you some love.” 

I scratched the dog's ear while leaving a soft kiss on his nose then looked back to the computer screen to see Y/N leave another comment. 

Y/NHollowSouls: Good, that’s better. Now I need to taste this famous BLT that won. 

“Then get your ass over here. Bring some coconut water because Noah drank the last one,” Davis said once he read the comment. 

My heart began to beat widely in my chest at the thought of seeing Y/N again. 

Y/NHollowSouls: fuck yes. Noah, have that sandwich ready for me.

We ended the stream shortly after that but my eyes lingered on the black screen for a long moment. Davis immediately picked up on my quiet mood and knocked on the countertop.

“Noah?” 

My name was white noise, still staring at zoning out in front of me. 

“Earth to Noah! Come in Herc! Come in Herc!” 

“What?” My eyes snapped over to Davis, finally breaking out of my trance. 

“What I thought.” He smirks before getting serious. “Are you alright?” 

I gave a weak smile towards Davis. “Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

He motioned towards the laptop. “I know you’re not actually fine right now but-.” 

I ran a hand over my face, doing my best to keep my breathing calm and even. “I’ll be fine, I promise. It just fucking hurts.” 

Davis shifted on his feet, hesitation clear on his face. “Why? No disrespect to Y/N at all, you know I love her-we all do. But why did you choose to stay in touch? After all the hurt you’ve gone through.”

My vision was direct with his. “Because I’d rather have her from afar to make sure she’s alright than to not have her in my life at all. Besides, she’s going through a lot of shit, something no one should go through alone. I won’t let her.” 

A grin spread across his face and he nodded. “I knew it. I just wanted to hear you admit it. But you need to end this shit with Bailey.” 

“I already did.” 

“Fuck,” Davis’ eyes widened. “Finally. How did she take it?” 

I nervously rubbed the back of my neck. “That’s the thing, she didn’t answer. I left her a voicemail.” 

“A voicemail? Damn, do you think she got the message?” Davis wondered while be began cleaning up the mess. 

I, instead, began making another sandwich for Y/N, knowing she’d be here soon. “I fucking hope so. If not, then she’s probably testing me to see if I’d change my mind.” 

“But you won't, right?” 

I snorted. “Fat chance.”

Davis turned towards me, drying his hands on a towel. “So you broke up with Bailey. What’s the next step with Y/N?” 

“I need to talk to her first. There’s a lot we need to talk about,” I said while pulling out a cold can of Dr. Pepper from the fridge. 

“Hey, that’s the last one,” he exclaimed. 

I merely shrugged while setting a place at the kitchen table for Y/N. “It’s for Y/N.” 

Davis, as much as he tried to be upset, chuckled. “In all seriousness, Noah, you know we’re here to support you. We have your back.” 

I smiled at one of my best friends. “I know.” 

Just then a knock sounded on the front door and before Davis could answer it, I quickly closed the short distance and opened it with a smile; only for it to drop seeing Y/N standing on the other side with a frown. 

“What’s wrong?” I questioned while allowing her to step inside and led her to Davis’ kitchen. 

“Chase’s birthday is on Friday and the venue I booked for it just canceled on me. Something about a pipe bursting and the room is flooded,” she exasperated while falling into the chair at the table. 

“What are you going to do?” I questioned while sitting across from her. 

Davis joined us at the table, taking the coconut water from Y/N with a small smile. 

“Thankfully since they have to cancel, I get my deposit back but Malcolm is freaking out,” she waved her phone around. “We have two days to figure out somewhere new for this surprise party.” 

“You can have it at my place,” I suggested. 

Y/N took a long drink of her soda. “Are you sure? Don’t you think you should talk with the rest of the guys first?” 

I snatched a chip off her plate and shrugged. “They won’t mind.” 

“Sei un tesoro, mochi,” she patted my cheek. 

Davis choked on his drink and my eyes snapped over to him. “I don’t want to hear it!” 

He held up his hands. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Y/N smirked before taking the first bite of her sandwich and groaned. “Oh shit, this is good. No wonder you won, Noah.” 

With a prideful smirk, I motioned to the rest of her plate. “Finish up. I’ll call the guys and have them meet here and we can plan Chase’s party.” 

At one point, Davis left to take Max for a walk, leaving Y/N and I alone. We sat silently and enjoyed the world around us. This has taken a lifetime to learn. It seemed only the old could sit next to one another, not say anything, and still feel content. The young, brash, and impatient, must always break the silence. It’s a waste, for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is the great paradox.

“Oh, I never noticed the great view Davis has,” Y/N mused while pushing away her empty plate. 

Realizing it was almost time for the sun to set, I quickly cleaned up for her and motioned towards the back door. 

“Let’s go sit outside for a bit, yeah?” I suggested. 

READER

Noah and I sat comfortably on the patio bench, a blanket draped over both of our legs as we stared out at the vast greens of Davis’ backyard. The sky was painted in bright oranges with hints of pink and purple. Silently, I thought to myself that I should have brought my art supplies, noting this would be a beautiful experience to paint. 

The silence between Noah and I was comforting, something you don’t find all that often. People always needed to talk rather than just listen to the world around them. The way the birds chirped, the faint noises of evening traffic, or the sound of the wind as it blew a chilly breeze. 

“Angel?” 

I hummed while looking over towards Noah. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Is there-I don’t know-anything you really want besides music right now?”

“I want a studio, with giant canvas’, paint; just an art studio galore! I’ve gotten into the hobby and love it,” I answered with a bright smile. “I was even thinking of using some of my art for the album artwork. Just playing with ideas.”

Noah’s smile matched mine as he let his hair loose from the hair tie, letting it fall to his shoulders in waves. “I love that you found something else you’re so passionate about, angel.”

“I love painting. I really do,” I leaned farther back against the couch and rested my head against it. 

“So paint. You should do whatever your heart desires, Y/N.” 

“Thank you, mochi” I nudged him. 

Noah rested his head against the couch, inches away from mine as another thought came to mind. 

“You know,” I started with a long sigh. “When I was a kid, I would have given anything to be exactly like everybody else” 

“You wanted to be petty and dishonest?“ He joked.

“Not everyone is like that,” I defended with a shake of my head. 

“Yes they are,” Noah retorted back. “But not you. You’re not like that.” 

This had me sitting up straighter, Noah following me. “How do you know what I’m like?”

“I see you,” He shifted closer to me, hand brushing across my knee over the blanket. “I’ve seen you for a long time. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met”.

My heart beat widely in my chest, the noise deafening in my ears and I cleared my throat. 

“I think you are too. If I’m being honest, I think I’ve always sorta known that,” I admitted. 

“You know,” Noah’s hand rested on my knee. “With me bouncing between homes and couches growing up, I always thought I’d be alone. I’d never expected to have such an amazing group of friends.” 

“Sometimes maybe it’s better to be alone,” I shrugged while looking past his shoulder to an older couple watching in the neighborhood. 

“Why do you say that?”

I still kept my gaze off Noah, voice dropping low. “Nobody can hurt you.”

“Y/N,” Noah sighed and lifted my chin so I could meet his intense gaze. “I would never, ever hurt you.”

Those eyes. I’ve dreamed of those eyes almost every night since our first meeting so long ago. I won’t say I’m in love, not out loud, but I am. I came to terms with that a while ago. 

“I know, mochi,” I finally whispered. 

Noah’s thumb traced over my jawline. “I understand why it’s hard for you, Y/N. But know that when I’m with you, I don’t feel alone.”

That magnetic pull that always seemed to connect us with that invisible string made me lean closer to him needing his warmth to envelop me. 

“I’ve never had this instant connection with anyone. I know you understand it too,” he continued. 

With my continued silence, Noah sat up straighter but kept his grip on my chin. “Are you freaked out? Because not hearing you say anything kind of-.” 

“Noah- no,” I rested my hands on his chest. “I feel it too.” 

His hand grasped the back of my neck now, tilting my head up towards him, as we began to lead in closer, and when his warm breath fanned over my lips, I let my eyes flutter shut. 

“Hey guys-oh shit.” 

Quickly pushing away from Noah, I peered over my shoulder to see Malcolm leaning against the back door. 

“We’re all inside ready to talk about the party. Whenever you two decide to grace us,” Malcolm winked before slipping back inside. 

Clearing my throat, I let the realization sink in what Noah and I were about to do. He’s with Bailey and I was ready to kiss him. I’m not this kind of person but yet here I was again being caught between him and my conscious. Bailey, as intrusive as she was, didn’t deserve this. 

Noah tried to bring me back to him but I quickly stood up, giving us more space. 

“We can’t do this. Not again,” my hair shook widely around my shoulders. “It’s not fair to Bailey.” 

“I ended it.” 

I blinked. “Wha-Oh? You did?” 

As ecstatic as I was hearing this, I did my best to hide it. I didn’t want Noah to know inside I was jumping for fucking joy; like a kid on Christmas that received the toy they’d been wanting. 

Noah stood from the couch now, standing in front of me. “I think Bailey saw me as Noah on the big screen, not me the person and after everything at that dinner I just knew it was time.” 

“I’m-I’m sorry,” I stammered, not knowing what else to say. 

His brows furrowed. “Why? It wasn’t serious. There wasn’t that connection; like the one we have.” 

As my lips parted, it was Jesse now who interrupted us, taking a bite of the apple in his hand. “Are you guys coming or what?” 

Noah cursed while running a hand through his hair and I shakily pointed over his shoulder. 

“We should head inside. Talk about this party.” 

Not wanting to spend another second out here, afraid to finally give in to the thoughts that were screaming at me, I gently brushed past him to return inside.

GREEK TRANSLATIONS:

Koukla-doll

Kouklamou- my doll

“Giatí échei makriá malliá?”- Why does he have long hair?

"Eísai apísteftos"-you're unbelievable

ITALIAN TRANSLATIONS:

Sei un tesoro-you're a sweetheart.

[moni-logues]

Kintsugi 15

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 6.8k

Content: references to self-harm, description of self-harm scars, some chat about self-harm; oral sex (m. and f. receiving), fingering, protected sex

A/N: I said I'd make it clear, so let's do that: IT'S THE END! THE FINAL ONE!! THE LAST CHAPTER! IT'S DONE!!! IT'S FINISHED!!! NO MORE!!! NO MAS!!!! FINIT!!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!! 끝!!!!

I was so relieved to finish this yesterday and thought I would be glad more than anything to post this and finally (FINALLY!!!) bring the series to a close, but I honestly do also feel kind of sad it's over. We've been together over a year now, these characters and me; I've been actually writing them for a year but they first popped into my head 18 months ago. And now we're at the end.

Huge thank you to everyone who has beta'd for me, inc. for this chapter @quarter-life-crisis2 and @here2bbtstrash, @minttangerines, @blog-name-idk, and Amethyst

Thank you to everyone who has left comments and come along on this journey with me; it has meant SO much to me to have your investment in and enthusiasm for this story. It has made it so rewarding to tell and I hope you like their ending.

Without further ado...

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

Chapter Fifteen - Spring

Chapter Fifteen - Spring 

You rested your head gently against the window, watching the people come and go. The cherry blossoms had fallen already, gathered in gutters and collected in corners. You were always sad to see them go, but this year, you felt like they had given you something. Summer, of course, as always: the heat, the sun, the long days, the blessed relief of an ice-cold drink and even colder air-conditioning. This year, the cherry blossoms had brought you something else. Truly like confetti, they had blown around you, whirled around you, celebrating your first week of From Now On.  

You didn’t say that you were getting ahead of yourself. Not this time. Because you weren’t that anxious about it, as much as that surprised you. You had all the anticipation of your first day at school with none of the nerves. The cherry blossoms had gone but they hadn’t left a hole; you couldn’t feel their absence because your life felt abundant. Last year, when you had watched them bloom and fall and fade away, you had been empty. All the joy they usually brought you couldn’t touch the sides of your despair. It hurt more to see them ushering in spring when you felt stranded alone in winter. But now you weren’t alone. Not even close. 

It was a fairly mild day, just the cool side of hot, and still. You had been impatient and got ready early, hence the sitting and staring. Yoongi wasn’t due for another five minutes, but you’d been there for twenty already. You imagined you might see him on his approach to your building and get to observe him, unnoticed. You wondered what he was doing right now – driving? In a taxi? On the subway? Was he already on his feet, close to you? Was he nervous? You thought he would be. His shyness recently reminded you of when you first met, those tentative overtures of friendship, the thrill you felt when he opened himself up to you. 

It was not unlike the thrill you felt now, waiting for him to pick you up for your very first date.  

When he was due in no less than two minutes, you stood and moved to your mirror. You had, initially, planned to wear something that you considered sexier – that is to say, more form-fitting, a little more scandalous, a dress that showed off a little more of what your mother gave you – and then you changed your mind. You didn’t need to do that, because Yoongi already knew. He had already seen what lay beneath and it was all for him now anyway. So you dressed a little more comfortably, in a dress with a little more give, a little more fabric and flounce. You looked cute; you wanted Yoongi to think you looked cute.  

Then, as you always did, you heard his footsteps. 

“Babe!” you cried, leaning out of your door to see him coming from the end of the corridor.  

But you almost didn’t manage to say anything at all because, whilst you had expected Yoongi, you hadn’t expected Yoongi in a suit, holding flowers. It stopped you short; you had been about to run out to him, jump into his arms, do something silly. Instead, you were flustered, grinning at him from your doorway, your heart going like the clappers and your blood roaring in your ears because god-fucking-damn, had he always been that handsome? 

“No!” he called back. “Go back inside! What are you doing?” 

What were you doing? Short-circuiting, a little. His hair was still long and you imagined it twisted between your fingers, soft and pullable; he was smiling, even as he scolded you, all his little teeth on display. You had always liked a man in a suit – you must have said it a thousand times – but you had not been prepared for how much you liked this man in a suit. You were going to have to get some kind of grip if you were going to make it through dinner.  

“I’m saying hello!” you called back, a little too loudly now that he was closer. “I was going to run out to meet you!” 

“Get back inside! I’m supposed to be picking you up! I need to knock on your door!” 

Truthfully, Yoongi would have loved to have you run out of your apartment and into his arms, even if he’d tumbled, you’d stumbled, you’d both fallen to the floor in a bumped, bruised heap. He’d have loved to have thrown all caution to the wind and run away with you. But all of that was still overwhelming, far too much good for a boy who still thought he was bad, and there was a process to be followed, procedure. He was clinging to that. Like a life raft.  

Yoongi had practised. In as much as you can practise speaking to a friend without actually speaking to them. He had forgotten, in all his anxiety about dating you, about being with you, being seen by you, that you were his friend. He’d had these feelings for you from the very beginning and they had never paralysed him like he felt they were now. He knew sex was not the (only) answer, that sooner or later, he was going to have to remember how to act around you. So he called each of his friends in turn to hang out with them, to remind himself, firstly, that he had them, that he was likable; secondly, that he enjoyed their company—he enjoyed company in general, more than he would ever let on; thirdly, that he could be good company: he got a laugh out of every one of them. That had to count for something.  

And he bought you flowers. Because they would provide a good distraction in case all of these remembrances fell out of his head the second he saw you. And because he wanted to, because that’s what you should do when you take someone out on a date. He knew you liked tulips and it was tulip season. It felt right. And it released a little of his impulse to shower you with things, to buy things for you and haemorrhage cash to make him seem worth it.  

For the longest time, money had been all he had. He had laughed out loud in his therapist’s office when he said that because, for the longest time, money was all he didn’t have. The not-having of money was the very thing that defined his life and set him on this path; it was the bedrock beneath the biggest of his life’s decisions. And then it became all he had. All he had to offer. He was still learning that maybe there were other things, too. 

You did as you were told and shut the door, palms pressed against it as you listened to your heart and tried to make it slow. Then you waited six seconds until you heard his first knock. 

“Oh my god, hi!” you exclaimed. “I had no idea you were here!” 

Yoongi pretended he wasn’t grinning and shot you a look. 

“Shut up,” he replied. “I bought you these.” 

Tulips. Your favourite flower. You didn't remember ever telling Yoongi that, but maybe he just knew. They were another reason that April was your favourite time of year. Seoul Forest was full of them, hundreds, thousands of them blanketing the banks. There was a rainbow of colour in every direction; tall heads on sturdy stems barely touched by breezes, swaying like a choir. It was like a pilgrimage; you went every year. Maybe this year, you would take Yoongi.   

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” 

You took them from him, not bothering to try to restrain your smile from splitting your face in half, and leant in to kiss him. Then you stopped. 

“Are we allowed to kiss?” you asked, one inch from his face. Then you moved away and started looking in cupboards for a vase you weren’t sure you owned.  

Yoongi looked confused.  

“Y’know, kissing on a first date?” 

He still looked confused. Then you remembered. You laughed. 

“Oh, of course, that’s right. You’re Mr Fucks on a First Date, aren’t you?” 

You expected him to be surprised; you hoped he would be a little flustered, hoped you would get to see that pink creep onto his cheeks in a way that was just too cute. Instead, he grinned and you felt your own cheeks heat. 

“Is that a promise?” he asked and your stomach swooped.  

You had found a vase, tipped flower food into it, and were gently arranging the stems. You abandoned them in favour of moving closer him, then a little closer, slowly closer, until your lips were almost on his.  

“Cheeky,” you muttered, eyes flicking down to his lips, amaranth pink and just a little pouty. You bit your own. 

Yoongi hummed. 

“So is that a yes?” 

“Only if you play your cards right.” 

You dragged your eyes up and slowly pressed a kiss to his mouth. His hands settled on your hips and you couldn’t stop yours from reaching up, tangling one in his hair, using the other to rake through the dark locks you hoped he never cut. It wasn’t exactly the kind of grip you needed to get, but every atom of your body was asking for more. It was intoxicating to be kissed by him. 

It was Yoongi who broke from you (you did not have the same level of restraint), his mouth lifting in a grin as he nodded his head slightly towards the counter, where your tulips stood in their vase. 

“Did I mention I got you flowers?” 

“You might need to tell me one more time.” 

You weren’t nervous. Not at all. On the one hand, you felt like you should be, because it was Yoongi and this felt enormous. When you stood back and looked at it, it was huge. He was one of your two (2) friends in this world and you were ruining your friendship good and proper. You could still remember the sharp-toothed despair that wound around you like a strait-jacket after what happened with Sungbin; you remembered the suffocating heartbreak of San leaving you. You knew that it could happen here. There wasn’t a guarantee that Yoongi was The One, that you were The One for Yoongi. It should have scared you.  

But it didn’t. It was too hard to be anxious sitting across from him at dinner, as if you hadn’t sat and done this very thing with him dozens of times before. It was impossible to worry about whether or not he liked you when he looked at you like that, when he smiled in that way that you had always suspected was just for you. You knew he liked you because he was here. He had asked for this date and bought you flowers and he was laughing and teasing and being exactly the person you knew him to be. That didn’t make you nervous.  

Yoongi had picked the restaurant carefully. Not too fancy, not too quiet, not too busy, not too empty, not too casual. He had spent a great many hours trawling the internet for reviews and photos and listings. He wasn’t usually this obsessive, but so much about it all had felt out of his control and this was in it. So he was going to get it right. 

Sitting across from you, he knew he needn’t have bothered. Because he knew you didn’t really care. He wasn’t even sure, sometimes, if you knew what you were eating, because you barely stopped talking to shove it in. You spoke around the food in your mouth and whirled your chopsticks around as you gestured. You picked things off his plate and dropped pieces of your own food onto it. You had this way of creating a world around yourself, such that he forgot where he was; he forgot there was anyone else around, anything else to think about. And he realised he could have taken you anywhere and it would have been just exactly this good. Because it was you. 

“Do you want to go for a drink or something? I looked up a couple of bars not far from here,” Yoongi said as he led you, your hand in his, from the restaurant. 

You leant up against him, shook your head and pouted. 

“No?” 

You shook your head again. 

“Ice-cream?” 

Not that either. 

“Ok... Do you want to go home?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Yoongi seemed surprised and you saw his eyes dim and realised—too slowly, clumsily for too much wine—that you had not exactly said what you meant. 

“I want to go home with you, please,” you clarified, still pouting up at him. 

“Oh.” 

It took Yoongi a couple of seconds to recalibrate, then he smiled down at you with a twinkle in his eye. 

“Miss Fucks on a First Date, is it?” 

You punched him playfully in the arm and he didn’t bother to act like it hurt.  

“Do you want a drink?” Yoongi offered as you slipped off your shoes inside his apartment. 

You shrugged. You would have one if he wanted, but you didn’t need one. You felt lush and warm and relaxed enough already. And truthfully, you were at home now, in the privacy of his apartment; you didn’t want to waste a minute with your mouth on anything that wasn’t him. 

You kissed him, soft at first, because you did want to fuck on your first date, but you weren’t an animal; you had some patience. Or, that’s what you thought as you pressed your lips against his, but the thought washed away like writing on the sand as soon as you tasted him. All your impatience, all your greed, all your excitement came rushing forward, into the fray, a tsunami of feeling, all good, all for him, all surging through you like a stampede. 

“I never,” you started, interrupting yourself with another kiss, one more. “I never want to stop kissing you.”  

“Then don’t.” 

You moaned into his mouth and pressed your body against his, suddenly too warm, hot, the fabric of your dress burning where it brushed your skin. You pushed Yoongi’s jacket off his shoulders and pulled at the knot of his tie. He laughed against your lips and pulled back. 

“You know you’re just making it tighter?” 

You whined and let him take over, deftly undoing the damage you’d done and loosening it properly, pulling it through the collar of his shirt and dropping it on the floor. You thought that was quite long enough to not be kissing, to not be held so tight against him, you could practically feel his heartbeat in your chest, but he held you back.  

When he started walking away from you, you rushed after him, grabbing his hand as he opened his bedroom door. 

“Cherry?” he called softly, padding over to the bed, where she was curled up on the pillow. “You have to get the fuck out of here, ok?”  

She ‘mrowed’ at him and rolled onto her back, exposing her exquisitely soft underbelly for strokes, purring when Yoongi put his hand on her. You thought to yourself that you would quite like to be the one purring under his touch, but had to accept that being jealous of a cat was insane, even for you.  

“Come on,” he said encouragingly, lifting her up and walking away from you yet again, taking her out to the living room and placing her on the sofa.  

“You mean you don’t even give her a free show?” you asked when he returned to the bedroom. 

Yoongi’s face flattened and he looked at you, pretending not to be amused.  

“Would you like to fuck in front of my cat?” 

You jumped up and skipped over to him with a giggle. 

“No, thank you!”  

You wrapped your arms around his neck and wasted no time reconnecting your mouths. Yoongi, now the cat was out of the room and the door firmly shut, seemed as impatient as you were, his hands sliding under the skirt of your dress and up, slipping beneath your underwear and squeezing at your backside. His mouth moved to your jaw and then your neck, sucking soft kisses into your skin, holding you firmly close to him. 

You were impatient because you wanted more, more, and even more of him and you wanted it now. But you also wanted each moment to last. Every time his lips met your skin, they felt softer; every time his tongue rolled over yours, he tasted sweeter; every time his hands squeezed, you felt your heart race a little faster. You wanted him immediately and you also wanted it to last forever. You couldn’t get enough of him. 

He moved his hands upwards, outside your dress, and made light work of the buttons at the back that had honestly taken you forever to do up by yourself. You hummed. 

“You’re good at that.” 

“Hm?” 

“Good with your fingers.” 

He chuckled and flicked you lightly with one hand whilst his other freed a button from its clasp.  

“Is that right?” 

“Shut up, you know what I meant.” 

“I know exactly what you meant.”  

You shivered, even in the warm room, in the bright light of the sun streaming in through the window, when he pulled your dress off and you let it pool on the floor. You didn’t have time to be self-conscious, even if you might have otherwise, because Yoongi was on you, pushing you towards the bed until you were flat on your back, his mouth exploring your body as if he’d forgotten every inch of it in the last week. He hooked his fingers around your underwear and tugged down; you shuffled in response, lifting your hips and wriggling out of it in a way that was less than dignified, and less than efficient, but you didn’t want Yoongi to move off you, didn’t want to sit and then stand so you could do the job properly.  

Naked, again, beneath Yoongi, fully-clothed, you held tight to his shirt collar and hoped he would let you know what he wanted. You wanted to let him lead. 

And lead he did. He pulled one of your hands to his shirt buttons and you experimentally popped one open. He led your hand to the next one. You worked your way to the bottom, pulling the ends from his trousers, kissing him: his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He wouldn’t look at you and you could see the red on his ears; if you pressed your hand against his chest, you could feel the thump of his heart like a hammer.  

“Baby,” you whispered as you slowly slid your hands under his shirt, his body warm against them, soft, not smooth.  

He gave no reply and you nudged him gently with your nose. 

“Baby, look at me.”  

It took seconds that felt like minutes before his eyes met yours. They were guarded, unsure, a little bit afraid. You kissed his lips and smiled. 

“We can stop here,” you reminded him but he shook his head.  

“Go on.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He nodded but his eyes were elsewhere again.  

You pushed your hands along his chest, around his shoulders, forcing the shirt to fall to the bed. You let your hands see him first, your lips still employed on his neck. He was soft and warm and the dip of his spine slightly damp with sweat. You felt them before you saw them, laddering down his arms, criss-crossing his chest, a handful near his hip that were rough and scabbed, still healing.  

It hadn’t occurred to you until that moment that you had never seen Yoongi in a T-shirt. That he always wore long sleeves. You hadn’t noticed. Now you knew why. 

Yoongi’s face was pink now, a little pained, uncomfortable. Embarrassed. Yoongi wanted to burst into flames and drown himself both at once. He didn’t dare open his eyes because he knew he’d not be able to see for tears. He was holding his breath, waiting for something he desperately didn’t want to happen, even though it always had. The shock, the disgust, the reluctance, the holding at arm’s length. 

You took his hand and kissed his palm, kissed the single, thick, raised scar on his wrist and all the smaller ones that followed. You turned him around, guiding him gently so he lay against the headboard, so you could kiss him all over, each and every one of them.  

“Babe,” you called to him, crawling up his body until you hovered over him, resting on your hands.  

Then you lowered yourself on top of him, skin to skin, and stroked through his hair. 

“Hey,” you tried again and Yoongi nodded slightly. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Are you ok?” 

He nodded again.  

“Gonna look at me and say that?”  

When he looked at you, it was a Yoongi you had never seen before. Shy and defeated and embarrassed and sad and there was something hurt in his eyes that almost made you angry – because no one was allowed to hurt him. That wasn’t supposed to happen.  

You kissed him once and then again and he cleared his throat lightly. 

“I’m fine.” 

“Are you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yoongi...” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“No.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Some of the hesitation in his face left him then and he looked at you. 

“Have you changed your mind?”  

It was a little defensive, the barest hint of a challenge in his voice. 

“No,” you answered. “Why would I have changed my mind?”  

He looked away again, not answering, though you didn’t need him to. You both knew. But that would never have changed your mind. He could have been covered in slime or secretly a lizard-person and you’d have been just as soft for him as you were now.  

Though you were glad that he was neither.   

“It doesn’t bother me,” you continued. “Well, it does--” You noticed the clench of his jaw-- “because I know what it takes to do it...” You traced your finger lightly over the scars on his arm. “I know exactly how it feels and I hate that you know, too. I wish I could take it all away from you. So that bothers me. Because I don’t ever want you to feel like it’s something you have to do.  

“But-” you pushed yourself up a little, sitting on his lap and pressing your hands to his chest- “actually, also, they’re proof you’re still here, y’know?” Your hand circled his wrist and you pressed your thumb against the worst scar there. “You might not have been. Any one of these could have been the last one, right? But they weren’t. It’s like... every time you do it, it’s a little bit of effort towards staying alive because there’s something worse you could do but you’re not doing that. So it’s proof. Proof that you’re here and trying and you’ve been trying and I, for one, am very glad you are still here. More than glad.” 

He didn’t reply. You shrugged. 

“And you’ve seen mine. My body is not exactly unscathed.”  

“There’s nothing wrong with your body.” His voice was stronger, more like his own. 

“And there’s nothing wrong with yours.” 

Yoongi had to get out from underneath you, had to stop you looking at him, at least for a moment. He knew that it had to happen, that you had to know, but this was too much. Too much of what he didn’t want and not enough of what he did. He didn’t want to talk about it or think about it. His chest was tight and he felt unsteady and he so badly just wanted to get back to you: you, naked in this bed, with him. 

He sat up and his arms came around you and you relished the feeling of your skin on his, nothing but warmth between you. He kissed you, insistent this time, impatient again. He wanted you on his tongue, in his hands, enveloping him. He wanted to serve himself up on a plate for you, kneel and kiss your feet; he wanted to lose himself completely in the sound of you coming undone.  

You shuffled off him and fumbled at his belt, at his zip, pushing them to the floor. You barely noticed the skin there, that was really more scar than skin; you didn’t see the light lines and the dark ones, crossing and re-crossing, thickening, fading, all over. Because it didn’t matter to you. That he wasn’t fresh out of the box, perfect and unblemished. No one was. And you shared a pain; the pain that led to these blemishes, these marks, these scars, it was yours, too.  

So you didn’t see them as they were un-covered, as he stepped out of his clothes, as you took his cock in your hand. Hot and heavy, you pumped slowly, but Yoongi had other ideas.  

He lay you on the bed and spread your thighs, trailing kisses up one side and down the other. You shivered when his hot breath hit your core and again when his mouth met your lips, his tongue licking through your folds. The pleasure felt brand new as he drank you in and you felt the exact right amount of drunk.  

If you’d been sober, this would have been too quick; you’d have been too easy, too alert. It would all have been over too soon. But the alcohol blurred the edges, dulled your senses just enough to allow you to luxuriate in it: the soft, wet pad of his tongue brushing over your clit, then hard as it pushed inside you; the press of his kiss-plump lips, their seal as he sucked at your swollen bud. Like swimming through champagne, everything was fizzing and golden.  

The sun hit Yoongi’s head, so bright it made his black hair brown and it shone. You tangled a fist in it, pulling his mouth closer, tipping your hips and he flicked his eyes towards you. They were deep and glazed and only half-open, his tongue still pressed against you. You whined and rolled your hips, then did it again and he let you rut against his mouth until all your pleasure was coiling tight, down into a heavy ball in your core.  

Then he pulled back and shifted his weight, lifting a hand from your hip. 

“Good with my fingers, right?” he said, a lopsided grin on his face, mouth sticky and shining.  

“Y-e...eess.” 

You answer was punctuated with the slip of those fingers inside you, and your breath hitched by the curling of those fingers, the pressing of them against your front wall. Yoongi lowered himself again and put his mouth back around your clit, the suction hard and sure. You were squirming now, all your muscles tightening, everything drawing down, deep into your core before bursting forward in a wet rush of heat.  

You sighed as your limbs flopped against the mattress and your chest heaved. Yoongi wiped his mouth and knelt back, similarly breathless. He took a hand to his cock and squeezed lightly at the base, hissing slightly as he did.  

You slithered off the bed, to your knees, and tapped Yoongi’s knee, asking him to turn towards you, reaching for him, for his dark, heavy cock, your mouth growing wet at the mere thought of it.  

Yoongi looked hesitant. 

“You don’t have to,” he said. 

You tipped your head to the side and frowned. 

“But... I want to, though?” 

He hesitated a second longer and you thought he was going to say no, but he turned and you did nothing to hide your enthusiasm. You pressed a kiss to the tip and let your tongue lick at the pre-cum dripping from it. Yoongi grunted and you grinned because it had actually been a long time since you’d had this kind of fun. 

It had been a long time for Yoongi, too, since he’d had his dick in anyone’s mouth. He couldn’t even remember the last time. He’d forgotten the heat of it, the softness and strength of a tongue, the looking down at them looking up. It was frankly criminal, he thought, that you could be so cute with a cock in your mouth. It was every bit as good as he might have dreamt, as hot and wet as he might have imagined. You pushed forward and he could feel the back of your throat, see the tears sparkling in your eyes, caught on your lashes. 

He had to stop looking. He tipped his head back and studied the ceiling. He clenched his fists and tried to slow his breathing down because, god, it had been so long and it was you. It was you and you had kissed him all over and you were looking up at him with wet stars in your eyes and your mouth was doing all that to him and he closed his eyes. Then you moaned with the tip of his cock at the very back of your mouth and he almost lost all control. 

He swore, his throat tight, his thighs twitching. He placed a hand on your head and pushed back your hair, tugging ever so slightly to pull you off him. You wiped your mouth and grinned up at him; it was such a sweet, filthy gesture that he almost came again. 

“You ok?” you asked and Yoongi fell to his knees. He answered with a kiss, licking into your mouth, pulling you against him. 

“Yes,” he answered, mumbled against your lips. “Want to fuck you now.” 

“Yes, please.”  

And it was everything you had wanted. Everything you had forgotten sex could be. Yoongi held you close and fucked you slow and you kissed him and caressed him and the world could have fallen apart outside and you would neither have noticed nor cared.  

There was something tearing inside Yoongi and he didn’t know what to do about it. Because you were holding him tight, pulling him so close to you, kissing him and moaning into his mouth and no one had wanted him this close, this soft, this slow for a long time. Ever. He had tried to pace himself before, tried not to rush through it but it was a blur to him now, the frenzy and the nerves and the uncertainty of it all rendering it choppy and indistinct. Whereas this was full high-definition. This, you, the way you touched him and looked at him, the way you said his name... it was like a dream. Like something he never thought he would have. The luxury of your warm body so close to his; the indulgence of your lips against his and your eyes sparkling like you had never seen a sweeter sight than him. That you wanted him. That you wanted him and let him know it. That you wanted all of him, as you ran your hands down his arms, as you squeezed at his chest and pressed your hand against his back, pulling him closer.  

Because it wasn’t just physical. It wasn’t just the thrust of Yoongi’s hips, his cock buried deep in your wet cunt; it wasn’t just the slap and slick of damp skin and arousal; it wasn’t just the pleasure you felt in your core expanding outwards, the heat in your blood, and tingling in your toes. It was all-encompassing; it was everything. It was this person who knew you, all the bad bits as well as the good, knew you and saw you and held you like you were precious. It was feeling safe and cherished and valued. It was knowing that your feelings were reflected, returned, reciprocated. It was the sweetness of finding someone who lit you up and being able to light them up the same way.  

When you lay, side by side, spent and sated, you felt like you were glowing. You rolled onto your side, into Yoongi, as he rolled into you and you kissed him again, for the hundredth time or thousandth, it still wasn’t enough. 

You slept soundly, without dreaming, without waking, until the sun was high in the sky again the following morning. You turned onto your back, throwing an arm behind you as you went, expecting it to hit Yoongi next to you.  

But he wasn’t there. You rubbed your face and pushed yourself into a seated position, assuming he was in the bathroom and would return momentarily.  

Then minutes passed and he was nowhere to be seen. You stood and scanned the floor for your underwear. Your dress was already picked up and placed over the back of a chair; Yoongi’s clothes, you could only assume, he had put in the laundry already. Your underwear was not hiding under your dress. You dropped to the floor and onto your hands and knees, to look down under the bed. 

“Aha!” 

“Aha, what?” 

You hit your hand on the bedframe as you quickly pulled it back and span to face Yoongi, standing in the door with an iced coffee in each hand and a paper bag hanging from his wrist. He looked at you with his eyebrows raised, bemused but charmed. 

You twirled your knickers on one finger.  

“Thought I’d lost them. They were under the bed.” 

Yoongi merely ‘ah’ed and nodded, placing breakfast on the dressing table and swapping his jeans for light pyjama trousers.  

“Did you bring me coffee?” you asked sweetly, knowing the answer. 

“And pastries.”  

You jumped to your feet and gratefully accepted his offerings, taking a long draw from the straw of a coffee so sweet and milky it might as well not be coffee anymore. 

“Do you know how much sugar is in those, by the way?” 

“Yep! That’s why they’re so delicious!” 

“They’ll kill you.” 

You shrugged. 

“Oh well. I died doing what I loved: drinking sugary coffee.” 

Yoongi chuckled and stepped forward until you were within arm's reach. You could feel his hesitation, so you took it from him, stepping into his body and offering him a kiss.  

“Thank you.”  

“Do you want to get back into bed?” 

You couldn’t imagine anything you wanted more.  

* 

You could hear something out in the hall, something maybe like a cat’s purr, but also not a cat’s purr. Some sort of buzzing, intermittent enough that you told yourself you were imagining it at first. But it just kept coming. 

“Do you hear that?” you interrupted Yoongi to ask and you held your hand up for silence as you listened for it.  

A jarring, quiet kind of noise.  

“Sounds like a phone vibrating,” Yoongi offered.  

“Oh fuck!” 

You scrambled, ungracefully, out of bed, still in just your knickers, and found your phone, buzzing against your keys, half falling out of your bag.  

Taehyung.  

“Hi, baby!” you greeted, overly cheerful because you hadn’t checked the time and you were almost certain he was calling because you were late. 

You had planned to have brunch and a debrief. You had forgotten all about it. 

“When are you coming home? I’m bored.” 

You pulled your phone away from your ear and, upon noting the time, realised that you weren’t late at all. Not even close. 

“What do you want, Teddy? I’m seeing you later.” 

“I know, but I’m bored now and you’re a dirty, little stop-out.” 

“Entertain yourself! I’ll be home when I’m home. I'm not leaving now just because you’re bored.” 

He sighed dramatically at the other end of the line. 

“So I suppose it’s love, then, is it?” 

The word made your heart skip a beat and you didn’t turn around, just in case Yoongi was looking at you.  

“Maybe.” 

“You sicken me.” 

“Fuck off. You’re happy for me.” 

“Yes, I am, babygirl. I’m very happy for you but I’m also very lonely and bored. Can’t you just come home a bit early? Yoongi will still be there tomorrow but I am fading away by the second.” 

“Dying from lack of attention?” 

“Exactly.” 

“I’ll be home when I’m home, Teddybear. Try to make it until then.” 

“Alright, but you’ll be sorry when I'm gone.” 

“Extremely. Now leave me alone!” 

He heaved another dramatic sigh before hanging up and you skipped back to the bedroom. 

“Everything ok?” Yoongi asked as you settled back in his arms. 

“Teddy’s being needy.” 

“Do you need to go?” 

“Absolutely not!” You snuggled in tighter and pressed your lips to his chest. “Not until the very last minute, please.” 

Love. You thought about the word when you left Yoongi’s apartment very late that morning. You wanted to say it then and there, tell him, but it felt like a lot. It felt like your usual Too Muchness coming back. You had only been on one date. It was a lot of pressure to put on a person and you didn’t want to pressure Yoongi. You didn’t want to push him. You didn’t want to take control and careen this fledging thing straight into a ravine.  

It felt natural. It felt easy. It felt like everything you had wanted. It felt so right that it was maddening to you that it had taken you so long to see it. But you also understood that that had to happen. The time it took you to see Yoongi like you did now was time you spent getting things wrong and hurting and healing the wrong way and then the right way and you knew that this, this happiness you had that made you glow, that made your steps feel light, it was a result of that time, that patience. So you didn’t want to rush. Didn't want to push. You would still love him tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that and on and on and on. It could wait. 

* 

Until six days later, when you were sitting on the subway on your way home from work and you snapped. You didn’t want it to wait. You wanted to tell him. And you knew you could. You could say it and he could not and you would survive that. You would understand. And it wouldn’t matter because you knew he was in this, knew he would get there if he wasn’t there already. You chided yourself for waiting at all, because love should never have to wait. Love should be shouted from the rooftops, shouldn’t it? 

So you got off at a different stop and changed lines and you walked as fast as you could to Yoongi’s building and you let yourself in. 

“Babe!” you cried as you hastily kicked off your shoes and rounded the corner into the kitchen, a little out of breath. 

“Are you ok?”  

Yoongi had his apron on, a knife in his hands, vegetables on the chopping board in front of him and it was so sweet, so domestic, a perfect vision of everything you wanted. He was looking at you with concern, as well he might, given you had just burst in, unannounced, in all kinds of a fluster. 

You nodded. 

“Yeah,” you panted. “I just had to tell you. I love you.” You moved closer to him; he put the knife down and wiped his hands on his apron and you held tight to it. “I love you. As in, I am in love with you. I love you so much. And I know, I know, it’s been no time at all and it’s too soon and it’s too quick and you don’t have to say it and I don’t want to put any pressure on but I just want to tell you. I have wanted to tell you and I wasn’t going to because- because all of the above! But I love you and I want you to know that I love you. I’m in love with you, Min Yoongi.”  

He blinked a little and then a bit more. 

“Oh.” 

He sounded surprised and you laughed because you were nervous and because you felt giddy and silly and so in fucking love. You tugged him closer with his apron and kissed him, firmly at first, then softer when he kissed you back and rested his hands on your hips.  

“I love you.” 

He said it quietly, his mouth still close enough to yours that you could feel his lips move with the words. You laughed again and kissed him again and whispered it back to him.  

“I love you.” 

Chapter Fourteen | Masterlist | Bonus Drabble 1

Taglist: @chimmisbae, @idkjustlovingbts @miriamxsworld, @tarahardcore, @simp47koreancrackheads, @xyahrinx, @olyd, @diorh0seokie, @thelilbutifulthings, @acquiescence804 

[rubikqiub]

Secrets of the Heart

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Part [ 1 / ? ]

Warning : +18 + a bit incestuous(?

____ was born as Rhanyera Targaryen's second daughter… Which was a privilege itself but also a fact that complicated the things, as she held affections towards Aemond Targaryen.

From a young age, she always reproached her brothers and her uncle Aegon about their treatment and teasing towards Aemond.

As for Aemond, he always had a kind of love for her. Always so gentle and protective of him.

Though there were times when he imagined a life with ____, soon a feeling of resentment and hatred reminded him that it was the princess's brothers, the ones who mistreated and mocked him all his childhood. If he were to marry her, he would have to deal with the existence of his brothers-in-law….

In any case, such feelings were not usually enough to make him feel less for the princess. Even if it was silent, it was clear the affection they had for each other. No matter the inter-family conflicts, ____ would always contemplate her uncle as that little boy who suffered the attitudes, words, and actions of cold and apathetic people who only sought the power of the throne. And that weirdly would just make her love him more. The very idea of someday being able to give him the love he never had tickled her soul.

At parties and feasts, the two of them would try to stay together, trying not to be obvious. They would brush their fingers in soft caresses condemned to remain hidden.

They would exchange glances whenever they kept each other company in the castle library. Aemond would accompany her on her usual walks in the garden, hinting more than once how ungraceful the flowers looked compared to her.

____ would practice with sword and bow in secret, as she really longed to be a woman capable of defending herself. Aemond would discover her and fall even more madly in love with her. He loved knowing how strong and bold his princess could be.

Secretly they would meet to practice the arts of combat. ____, more than once, finding herself defeated. But that would not discourage her.

While Aemond well enjoyed their practice meetings, the truth was that he enjoyed them more for the pleasure of being able to spend time with her. Watching her be competitive and fierce, yet persistent and strong. He saw her in what he wanted to believe was her purest side. One that didn't hesitate to present herself as genuinely as she really was. One who seemed to completely forget her titles and her education as a “miss”. One that Aemond was beginning to suspect might perhaps be attracted to him.

—You seem to see me less as a lady by every passing day, my prince— she said amused as she remained on the floor and vaguely wiped her dirty hands against her clothes.

—On the contrary, princess, as far as I'm concerned, you look more and more like one with every day we spend together— he said with a sly smile as he bent down to sit next to her.

—"Silly"— she mumbled with a pout that she undid as she felt a stinging pain on her lower lip. And Aemond noticed.

With a frown he leaned down careful as he gently stroke his thumb over the small bleeding cut on her skin.

—I'm sorry my princess, I didn't mean to hurt you….

As he continued to caress gently, with his gaze fixed on what he had caused; ____ could only watch him.

How was it possible that a entire kingdom saw his uncle as a cold-hearted man that should be feared?

He knew very well that this was the truth. He would never be a friendly and gentle prince…. but for ____…. Aemond was determined to be a different man. One who was worthy of his niece's affection. One who could show compassion and affection. He was bent on building a version of himself that was reserved solely and exclusively for ____.

The tension was palpable even in the silence. Their breaths still hitched from the recent combat they had. Aemond squeezed ____'s lip lightly, managing to get a small trickle of blood to drip out. She frowned a little from the pain. But it faded away as soon as she felt Aemond's warm lips on hers.

A shaky sigh escaping her lips as soon as she felt the touch of his tongue against her wound. ____ felt herself melt.

Her reaction only encouraged Aemond to finally show his feelings openly. If she did hate him, she would have turned away by now.

Gently, he lifted her enough to place her on his lap. His hand sliding to her cheek to deepen the kiss. A tangible smile across his lips each time ____ let out a gasp.

____ wrapped his neck to pull him even closer. She gave a little prance as soon as Aemond's cool fingers began to fumble with the straps of her corset. She too set about untying the prince's clothes. He gasped in despair as he hurried to completely undo the bindings. When his shirt was completely unfastened he slipped it over his head.

____ traced tenderly each of the small scars that adorned the exposed skin. Aemond felt himself melt under the girl's affection and care. With a hand on her lower back, he made her lie down on the cold rock of the cave they were in.

____ rubbed her thighs in a gesture that made Aemond let out a giggle. She looked cute being so desperate for him. But Aemond wouldn't rush something he had been wanting for so long. No…he would do it as slow as he could to memorize every second of the act.

He leaned in to bring their lips together again, this time deepening the contact with gentle nibbles on the wounded lip. Savoring in between the taste of rust that the sparse blood from earlier had left behind. His hand still rested on her face, while the other rested on her lower back. Tortuously he set about sliding the corset down to reveal her skin. ____ moaned with a tiny bit of pain as Aemond squeezed one of her breasts.

The contact of their lips broke momentarily as Aemond began a trail of wet kisses that went from her neck to stop at the valley of her breasts.

Aemond was gentle with every caress. His adoration for the girl palpable with every touch. ____ squirmed under the touch of the lips that toyed with her nip.

As she writhed under the prince's nibbles, he began to slide his hand down, feeling the wetness beginning to form on the princess's clothing. Gently, he moved the fabric out of the way, brushing his fingers over her skin.

—A-Aemond….—

The noticeable desperation in ____'s voice, made Aemond smile. Carefully he began to slide his fingers, his gaze fixed on the princess's expressions as to whether or not he should stop. ____ clung even tighter to his back, trying to find the support her legs could no longer provide. She hid her face between the valley of the prince' neck, trying to contain her gasps. Aemond planted a little kiss on her neck.

—No one would hear us, princess….

—Mjum— a mumbled hum was the only thing the girl managed to formulate as soon as Aemond's fingers went deeper.

His fingers, which at first were gentle and considerate, began to move with more fervor. ____ muffled her gasps against the prince' neck, while he planted little kisses on her shoulder to soothe her.

It didn't take long for ____ to reach her climax and get all dizzy by the overwhelming sensations her body was experiencing. Aemond laughed softly as he stroked her back affectionately.

The woman, still in small spasms cradled Aemond's face, fixating on the violet eye that watched her so adoringly. Instinctively, the prince' face leaned down seeking more of the soft contact.

Her free hand slid behind the prince, seeking the binding of the cloth covering the eye that had so long ago been pierced by Luke's dagger.

As soon as Aemond sensed her intentions, he stopped her by grabbing her suddenly by the wrist.

____ flinched with a little fear of messing things up, but if she was going to do this she wanted to do it well. Seeing him as he was. Scars and all.

Lovingly and a little hesitantly, she reached over to leave a little kiss on his eyelid. Then on his cheek and finally on his lips.

Aemond felt himself melt under the gesture, making him surrender to the girl's silent insistence to remove the cloth that hid what had once been his eye. Though still reluctant, he loosened his grip on ____'s wrist, puckering slightly as soon as he was fully exposed before her. He avoided her gaze, expecting to meet the same pity with which his mother the Queen would give him.

But when ____'s touch brought him to see her face to face, he found anything but pity.

—I'm so sorry about this my prince…I should have been there…—she said with affection and a hint of guilt.

He smiled softly. ____ was as warm and gentle as ever.

How had he spent so much time refraining from expressing his feelings for such a lovely person?

—It doesn't matter anymore… I have you now…—

The girl filled the scarred area with kisses and caresses, and Aemond couldn't lose his mind much more. Between caresses and kisses full of desire and repressed affection, both spent the rest of the afternoon exploring each part from their bodies. With prolonged silences in which words were superfluous. The friction and touch of the other expressed more than anything else.

Aemond loved her madly, and now he understood that it was reciprocated.

What happened between them since that afternoon only fueled his passion and affection for the princess; who little by little began to repair his soul which was once broken.

₊ ︵︵︵﹒໒·͜:)𑇓ㅤ﹒︵︵︵ ₊˚⊹

This is the first time I write something so “graphic” jsjsjs. Do I feel embarrassed? Yep. Did I enjoyed it? Eeeeem ^^;

The good thing is that everything I write under this user is basically anonymous. So if anyone asks, nope, it wasn't me.

( I was thinking of making a 2nd part for this shot so if you guys are interested let me know Uwu)

[midnight-pluto]

Hello hello, may I request a Stelle x m!reader (or gn!reader) oneshot please?

Stelle finding drunk Y/n while walking around in Penacony, blabbering about how their beloved raccoon is the best gal that ever appear in their life (and singing all praises imaginable)

Y/n said all of that in front of her face, not realizing that they're talking to their said beloved raccoon.

Stelle's ice cream dropped.

And they're not in a relationship. (Oof lol-)

DRUNKEN DAZE — stelle

TROPES: crack, pining, accidental confessions

PAIRINGS: stelle x male!reader

UNIVERSE: canon-ish

WARNING(S): alcohol

A/N: in all honesty, me creating this is like a shot in the dark since i have no clue wtf im doing 😭

THE DRINKS IN Penacony's were in strong hotel bar, that's for sure. A few shots in and you could feel yourself beginning to get tipsy; it was difficult to classify if you were a lightweight or not, all planets had varying strengths to their liquor as well as classifications to them.

But it wasn't hard to determine that the drinks you ordered were strong enough to render you hazy. Knowing that it was getting relatively late, you pay your tab and unsteadily leave the bar counter. 

As you were walking aimlessly, you lean against a railing trying to mentally put yourself together at the very least. Letting out a sigh, you look towards your right and spot a familiar head of grey hair also leaning on the railing; ice cream in hand.

Propping your elbows back up on the railing, you squint your eyes at the figure next to you. She meets your eyes and turns her whole body towards you, "Hey, do you need something?"

You merely hum in response, resting your head on your hand, "No, it's just that you remind me of someone."

"Oh really?" she tilted her head, taking another lick of her ice cream.

"Mhm," you nod, "She's amazing, one of the best things to ever happen to me. Her and the Express Crew. I never really had people like them in my life before the Astral Express, and I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"I'm glad you see us— uh, the Express that way," she smiled, scooting closer to you.

"Best people in my life, not that I had anything else to work with before them, but still; we gained a new crewmate — ha, crewmate — recently. Well, not really recently y'know, we've already been through a lot together."

"And what do you think about this new, 'crewmate,'" she questioned, gazing at you as you look up at the ceiling of the hotel.

"Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping, spectacular, never the same," you rant on and on about your admiration for her, something she knew you would've never told her directly to her face.

"Really?"

"Really," you nod, assured in yourself, "I wonder if she thinks the same way about me."

"She does," she affirms.

"What makes you so sure?" you inquire, turning to look at her straight on.

"Just trust me," she pats your shoulder.

You close your eyes in thought for a moment, "Then, it would be safe for me to confess to her?"

Stelle lets out a noise of shock, mouth agape for a moment, "Y'know, I think it's about time to go to the dreamscape." Ushering you to the VIP elevator while you mutter disagreements and questions.

It took a moment for you to lie in the 'bed' but she managed to leave your room with a small sigh, "Hopefully you aren't drunk in the dreamscape too."

Eyes widening, she realizes her hands felt oddly empty.

Rushing out the hall and frantically looking each way of the corridor, she ushers over to the railing, looking down and seeing a familiar shade of ice cream below.

"WHO THE FUCK DROPPED ICE CREAM ON MY LUGGAGE?!"

On second thought, it might've not been her ice cream after all.

[fourswordsannotated]

akira himekawa are unbelievably cool.

soooo here's the thing. i was looking at akira himekawa's website on a whim and found a public blog, with posts that go all the way back to 2009. many hours of google translating later, and i've developed an even stronger admiration of these two women and their exceptional career as manga artists. they share so much in these posts about the creative process, their thoughts on social justice, their connections with nature, and their most major original story, gliding reki, which seems to have always been a passion project in the midst of commercial work.

from what i could gather, reki is unique in that they were determined to do it in full color. and they did it, because after reading about their career, it's clear to me that when these women set their mind to an idea, they make it happen. see also: they just recently produced and distributed their own art book, because no publishers were offering to do it in a way that pleased them.

their stated goals for reki were to make something more adult than their previous children's manga, taking place in a city, involving a lot of mechanical art, and featuring stronger romantic and self-described erotic subtext. good for them. before i get into the four swords-related stuff, i'm sharing what i could find on the internet about reki.

more under the cut, because there's quite a bit to discuss :)

not much that i could find on the blog specifically references four swords, but they have many fascinating insights about nintendo, the zelda fandom, and the franchise as a whole. i can't know for certain because this information was surmised from translated text, but it seems as if their manga with chibi link made them feel a little stifled, which is why they took a long break before returning to do twilight princess. it's not lost on me that even a work like four swords, which they may regard as not their favorite or best, still has inspired and brought together so many passionate, creative, and diverse people. this is especially sweet because it seems as if they met each other, and formed their creative partnership, because of a shared fandom interest of their own.

honda and nagano have shared their thoughts and feelings on this blog for more than a decade, and they have a lot of thoughts and feelings. throughout their entire career they've made commentary on work-life balance, their experiences as women in a male-dominated field, and their desire to create original art while simultaneously enjoying some commercial work as well. they are passionate about social justice, particularly re: women and indigenous people, and offer insights on aspects of culture and history and the state of the world that really could resonate with anyone. and they really seem to appreciate fans of their work, and emphasize repeatedly the care and thought they put into their manga in the hopes it will inspire and bring catharsis to readers. they love animals (especially wolves), being outside in nature, being nerds about art they enjoy, a certain subgenre of romantic manga that appealed to and empowered female readers in the 90's and 2000's, and traveling around the world to partake in activities like horse riding and falconry.

the coolest part is, they're still updating the blog to this day :) in fact they seem to have recently returned to it, reflecting that twitter is not their preferred manner of sharing things online. they seem very familiar with and fond of older-school blogging culture.

there's a lot more i could say here about my findings, some of which do pertain to... certain ships 💜🖤 . but i don't want my genuine appreciation for these authors to be overshadowed by that kind of conversation. in addition to a link to the blog itself, i'm including a few translated posts of interests, which you can interpret and incorporate into your perception of the media however you please. at the end of the day, it's a really cool gift that these artists have chosen to share so much over such a long period of time. by making their personalities, beliefs, and insights more visible to fans of their work, i hope it brings new context to the stories we already love.

a modern-day insight:

re: the zelda mangas. these are from several points throughout their career. please note that they have so many fond things to say about zelda as a franchise and their work on the mangas, especially regarding the way they've affected fans. i encourage you to look for yourself, on their blog and their other socials!

re: gliding reki

re: the creative process (and in the latter two, the fandom that seems to have inspired them!)

re: their two goofyass adorable tiny dogs that they dress up in outfits while also loving wolves like a lot, they love wolves (both domesticated and wild), they really love wolves

re: wolf day (every day is wolf day,)

re: indigenous rights

re: painting serious works on commission vs their manga. i can't know for sure exactly what it means, but it really does kinda hit

re: a fan and manga artist in training bringing them art and a note

and a moment from a twilight princess manga interview i found very sweet :)

okay. you've made it to the end. i know you're wondering. here you go. please remember that this is and always has been a public blog, and these posts are actually from 2009 and 2010. also please remember that the point of this post is not to cause or fuel fandom discourse, but to appreciate these authors and the things that they choose to express.

(also, this is the column they were referring to in image 1. it's FASCINATING. give it a read if you'd like!)

the dots are there. you're welcome to connect them.

thank you for your beautiful work and insights, honda and nagano. please never change.